The warehouse was nestled between decaying factories and wild overgrown plots, far away from the city’s rhythm. A crumbling beast of iron and time, it stood in silence like a graveyard—its rusting gates groaning softly in the wind, almost as if mourning what it was about to witness.

Aarohi’s eyelids fluttered open. The sharp sting of blood drying on her temple made her wince. Her vision blurred for a moment, then cleared to reveal the nightmare she had woken into.

She was tied to an old iron chair, her wrists rubbed raw by the coarse ropes digging into her skin.

Her saree, once a proud professional maroon she had worn to the office that morning, now hung stained and tattered. Her dupatta had been snatched off, used as a gag earlier.

Her heels were gone, her feet bare and cold against the cement floor. The chill seeped into her bones.

It was a darkness that didn't just hide; it watched. Every corner of the warehouse seemed to whisper threats.

A single yellow bulb swung overhead, its light flickering like a dying heartbeat.

Shadows danced erratically, flickering across her bruised face.

She struggled, but the ropes only tightened. Her heart thudded painfully against her ribcage, each second passing like hours.

A metallic clang echoed—someone opened a steel door on the far side. Heavy boots scraped across the floor. Her breathing hitched.

Nirvaan stepped out from the shadows. Tall, cruel-eyed, his features twisted with smug amusement.

“Finally awake, Raghuvanshi Queen?” he mocked. "Yeh toh bas shuruaat hai. Your loving husband will arrive soon, and when he does..." He paused, letting his words hang. "We end it."

Aarohi glared through tears. "He will come... and he will destroy you."

Nirvaan laughed. “I’m counting on it. Tum jaanti ho na, yeh personal hai. Abhinav Mehta doesn't forgive betrayal. Raghuvanshi ne uska rasta kaata tha. Ab uski biwi meri guarantee hai."

He crouched beside her, running a gloved finger near her cheek, making her flinch. "Scared? Good. Fear makes the game sweeter."

Aarohi jerked away. "Main Maanveer ki patni hoon... aur tum jaise logon se darne wali nahi."

His smile faltered slightly, irritation flashing in his eyes. He slapped her hard, the sound cracking across the walls.

Blood dripped from her lip. She didn’t cry. Her spine remained straight.

Silence fell again.

But somewhere in the wind, a vibration began. A storm gathering.

---

Outside, Maanveer stood near his SUV, his eyes scanning the warehouse. His jaw was clenched, hands tight around his gun. Every second without Aarohi was ripping him apart. The last 30 minutes had been a chase through dead ends, and now—finally—they had her signal.

He said in his mind

"If my wife gets even a scratch I swear, you don't need to die to see hell. I will show you hell on this fvcking earth."

Rehan stood beside him. "There are guards posted inside. But I have three men flanking the back. Once we go in, we go in fast."

Maanveer’s voice was low, dangerous. "I don’t care who I have to kill. I just want Aarohi back."

Rehan touched his shoulder. "We’ll get her out. I swear."

The men moved.

The iron gate groaned open. Maanveer stepped inside, every sense on high alert. The warehouse stank of grease, mold, and something darker—blood and death.

They were in.

---

Inside, Nirvaan stood now near a table with a bottle in hand. Aarohi was still bound, her eyes shut tightly as she whispered to herself, clutching invisible threads of hope.

Suddenly—

CRACK!

The main door was kicked open. Goons jumped to attention. Maanveer entered like fire and thunder.

His eyes landed on Aarohi. Her face. Her blood. Her ropes.

He lost all control.

"AAROHI!"

His voice echoed across the warehouse. Aarohi's head jerked up. "Maanveer!"

Gunshots rang out. Maanveer ducked behind a pillar, firing at goons. Rehan followed suit, his team moving fast.

One by one, the guards dropped. Maanveer advanced like a soldier possessed. He disarmed one attacker with a brutal blow, elbowed another, and kept moving forward—his only goal: Aarohi.

Nirvaan stood calmly behind a crate, gun raised.

"Too predictable, Raghuvanshi," he sneered. "But let’s see how fast you really are."

Aarohi saw it first.

"MAANVEER!"

He turned—

BANG!

The bullet tore through the air like destiny in motion.

Aarohi lunged—ropes tearing in her desperation.

It hit her.

Square in the abdomen.

Her scream sliced through the chaos. She collapsed to the ground, her hands pressing to the bleeding wound.

Maanveer roared, a sound more beast than man. He ran to her, catching her before her body hit the cold floor.

"AAROHI! No, no, no! Look at me! Aarohi, please!"

Her eyes fluttered. "Maan... veer... chod ke... mat jaana..."

He pressed his hand to the wound. "Main hoon na! Kuch nahi hoga tumhe! Aarohi... meri jaan... aankhein band

h mat karna."

Blood flowed through his fingers.

And behind him—Nirvaan was loading his gun again.