" Bound by Blood , Burned by Love "
* The first encounter
[[ “She was born of blood, but she never wanted to taste it.”]]
[[ Devi’s Cottage – 5:00 AM ]]
[Her days began at 5:00 a.m., like clockwork. Not because she had to — but because sleep never came easy.]
[Every morning, she ran. Earphones in. Music low.
Like she could outrun the ghosts in her memory.]
[ Her mother’s scream.
The sight of blood.
The last breath her mom took — right in her arms.]
[ By 6:30, she’d be back.
Quick shower. Coffee, strong. No sugar.
She’d tie her hair up, put on her pale pink lipstick, and grab her hospital ID from the counter. ]
[ She’d avoid the guards that still followed her everywhere — her father’s silent warning.
She wasn’t allowed to be normal.
Not really. ]
[[ Inside the Hospital ]]
[[ City Grace Hospital | Doctor’s Lounge]]
[[ Piya’s phone rang while she was reviewing an emergency case file. The name flashing on the screen made her jaw clench. ]]
[She didn’t want to answer.
But she did. ]
Piya ( fl)
Piya (flatly):
“Papa. I told you. I don’t need your mens behind me when I’m saving lives.”
Mr . Mehra
(stern, almost amused):
“And I told you — this world doesn’t forgive softness. Especially not for a Mehra daughter.”
Piya ( fl)
“I’m a doctor. Not your pawn.”
Mr . Mehra
“Fine. I’ll withdraw the men.”
Mr . Mehra
(calmly, but with finality):
“Except one.”
Mr . Mehra
“One man. Highly trained. Silent. He won’t bother you. He'll there to keep you breathing. That’s non-negotiable.”
Piya ( fl)
(firmly, furious):
“Then tell him to stay invisible. Or I swear, Papa… I’ll leave. You’ll never see me again.”
Mr . Mehra
“I’ll tell him. But you better not disappear again.”
Mr . Mehra
" He’ll come to you at night "
[Piya sighed deeply, already mentally checking out of the confrontation. She had more important things to do.]
[She pulled her coat on and walked briskly to the ER, where a critical patient had just been rushed in.
Within moments, she slipped back into her rhythm — commanding, focused, gentle.]
[[ Abandoned Warehouse – Outskirts of Mumbai | 12:08 AM ]]
[[The night air was still, but thick with tension.]]
[Abhimanyu Raichand stepped into the warehouse with quiet authority. Dressed in charcoal black, his steps echoed on the cold concrete. His expression was unreadable — the kind that made lesser men uneasy without a word.]
[ Three of his trusted men followed close behind.]
[Ahead, Jatin Malik, a younger associate with shifting eyes and nervous energy, stood waiting.]
Abhi ( ml )
(calmly):
“You requested a meeting. I came. Speak.”
Jatin
(forcing a smile):
“Just… needed to clear the air, Abhi bhai. Thought we could talk things through. No misunderstandings.”
[Abhimanyu said nothing, just watched him. Studied him. Something felt off.]
[Then, from behind, a faint noise — a metallic clink.]
[Before anyone could react, a shot rang out.]
[Pain ripped through Abhimanyu’s side. He staggered slightly, one hand pressing to his rib where the bullet had struck — not deep, but dangerous.]
abhi's men
(shouting):
“Bhai! Are you okay?”
[Abhimanyu raised a hand to silence him, his eyes fixed on Jatin.]
Abhi ( ml )
(quiet but sharp):
“You were never here to talk.”
[Abhimanyu stepped forward despite the pain, and within moments, his men had secured the area.]
[He leaned slightly against a crate, breathing shallowly but eyes sharp.]
Abhi ( ml )
(to Jatin):
“The mistake wasn’t betrayal. It was thinking I wouldn’t walk away from it.”
[He turned and signaled to his guards.]
Abhi ( ml )
(gritted voice):
“We’re leaving. Now.”
[But by the time they reached the exit, his legs were weakening. The blood loss, the adrenaline crash — it was too much. There was no time to get to the car. He ordered his men to take a different route to avoid being followed.]
[And then — he slipped away from them. Alone.]
[Bleeding, limping, and walking into the shadowy back lanes.]
[A lone alley. Dim lights. The city oblivious.]
[He didn’t know where he was heading.]
Abhi ( ml )
(barely audible):
“...Fucking traitors…”
[[Near the hospital | 12:40 AM]]
[The night was unusually quiet.]
[Piya tugged her coat tighter around her as she stepped out of the hospital’s back gate, stifling a yawn. Her shift had ended an hour later than usual. Emergency cases. A last-minute surgery. A child with a fractured rib. Her feet ached, but her mind was still alert.]
[ She didn’t take the main road. She preferred the narrow lanes — the familiar ones that cut through the quieter parts of the city, where street vendors packed up for the day and the scent of rain lingered on old bricks. ]
[As she walked, the faint sound of a groan stopped her mid-step.]
[ Nothing. The alley to her right was dim, barely lit by the flickering streetlamp above.]
[ Another faint sound — pained, ragged, almost muffled.]
[ Her instincts kicked in.]
Piya ( fl)
(softly to herself):
“That sounded like someone’s hurt…”
[ She took a hesitant step toward the alley, her hand reaching into her bag to clutch her small emergency torch and pepper spray.]
Piya ( fl)
(calling gently):
“Hello? Is someone there?”
[ A man, slumped near the wall, his figure half-hidden in shadows. One arm pressed tightly to his side. His shirt—dark, wet.]
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