The fire had already swallowed the car. Smoke curled into the sky, choking sunlight and crowd alike. A firefighter forced the rear door open, metal screeching like it had a voice of its own.
"Sir," the man said, voice low, careful, "there's no one inside."
Rudra didn't reply. Silence wasn't absence—it was a weapon he wielded better than any gun.
Another firefighter crouched, brushing ash aside with a gloved hand. The ash fell in thick layers, grey and powdery, clinging like the remains of something once alive. Something solid emerged from beneath it.
"Sir," the firefighter said again, quieter now.
He lifted a half-burnt handbag. The leather had melted along one edge, the strap reduced to a blackened thread. The smoke, the heat, the loss—it wrapped together in one breath that made the stomach twist.
Rudra stepped forward without realizing it. The world narrowed. The murmurs faded. Even Ravi beside him seemed to disappear.
The firefighter opened the bag carefully, revealing its contents fused together into unrecognizable shapes. A wallet. A keychain. A phone, burned beyond repair. Ordinary things, destroyed in an extraordinary way.
The wallet was opened.
Inside lay an identification card. Half of it was burned away, the edges warped and cracked, but the photograph remained cruelly clear. Anaya Malhotra. Her name settled into Rudra's chest with devastating weight, familiar and unbearable all at once.
He took the card himself. No gloves. No hesitation. The plastic was still warm against his fingers. Below her photograph, untouched by fire, the designation stared back at him:
Senior AI Developer
R&D Division
Rudra's thumb brushed over the burnt edges slowly, deliberately. The corner pressed into his palm, sharp enough to remind him that this was real. That this was happening.
"No body found, sir," the firefighter said carefully. "We searched the surrounding land. The grass. The forest edge. Nothing. Only burned belongings."
Ravi's voice reached him, tight with disbelief. "Rudra..."
"They didn't burn this car to kill her," Rudra said, voice calm in a way that made Ravi uneasy. "They burned it to erase her."
Ravi swallowed. "And failed."
Rudra lifted his gaze toward the trees lining the road, dark and unmoving. "They touched what's mine," he said quietly. "That's where they made their last intelligent decision."
A pause followed. Then the firefighter added, "There was a partial shoe print. White sole."
Rudra nodded once.
He slid Anaya's ID card into the inside pocket of his jacket, right over his heart. The card stopped being evidence the moment it touched his skin. It became a vow.
"Ravi," he growled, low and sharp, "tell me you've got something."
"The CCTV… it's corrupted," Ravi said, desperation fraying his tone.
Rudra's hand tightened over the steering wheel of his patience, though he wasn't even driving yet. The sun hit full strength, midday heat radiating off the asphalt. He could feel the crowd edging closer, curious, unknowing.
"I'm going," he said finally, voice cold steel. "It's 1 PM. Smoke's pulling attention. I don't want… witnesses."
His wrist brushed the bracelet, black metal with a faint pulse at its core. The heart engraved in it flickered like it recognized the danger. The same heartbeat, the same pulse, that Anaya's gold bracelet would mirror.
Rudra's car roared to life, tires spinning against gravel. Ravi followed, panic simmering, voices from the crowd calling out, half-formed questions swallowed by fear of what Rudra could do.
He didn't say why. Not yet. His wrist brushed the bracelet, black metal with a faint pulse at its core. The heart engraved in it flickered like it recognized the danger. The same heartbeat, the same pulse, that Anaya's gold bracelet would mirror.
Rudra's car roared to life, tires spinning against gravel. Ravi followed, his own panic simmering as voices from the crowd called out, half-formed questions swallowed by fear of what Rudra could do.
"Who's she? Who's that person?" someone yelled.
Rudra's glare could have silenced them all. The ashes of the burned car behind him seemed to shiver under his stare.
The drive was tense. His bracelet pulsed faster, warning, guiding. He didn't need maps. He didn't need intuition. The device, a creation of his late grandfather, was doing his thinking for him, every electrical thrum whispering Anaya's exact state.
By the time they reached Singhniya Mansion, the sun was an indifferent witness. Rudra stepped onto the marble floor; his footsteps echoed, relentless. Carpets did nothing to soften the sound of a man carved from anger and purpose.
The family watched from a distance, frozen. Dadi Singhniya, Mrs. Singhniya, even Ria—eyes wide, calculating. No one dared approach. Rudra's expression alone kept them at bay.
The Singhniya mansion fell silent when Rudra returned. His footsteps echoed sharply against the marble floor, even the carpets failing to soften their sound. No one stopped him. No one asked questions. His expression was enough to warn them away.
༶•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•༶༺♡༻༶•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•༶
Rudra entered the meeting room, laptop in hand, and connected his bracelet to the system. Screens blinked alive, flooding the walls with the city's heartbeat. His heartbeat. Hers. Two signals dancing in the air—one visible only to him.
The bracelet wasn't jewelry. It was a lifeline. Intelligence. Pulse translated into data. Anaya's heart spiked. Stress indicators flared. Fear. Hyperventilation. Alive.
Rudra's thumb hovered over the controls, calm but every vein thrumming heat. "Alive," he whispered, low. Not relief. Ownership. A promise.
Ravi stood beside him, tension and relief knotted together. "Then we find her."
He laid the burned remnants on the table—a blackened phone, half-melted wallet, ID warped by fire. Yet her photograph stared back, cruelly intact.
"Senior AI Developer," he murmured, tracing the charred edges. He slid the ID into his jacket pocket, over his heart. Evidence? No. A vow.
Rudra's voice cut through the room. "Block the highways. Seal the exits. Find her."
"Rudra…" Ravi began.
"No questions," Rudra snapped. "We move. Now."
The bracelet pulsed faintly, syncing to a heartbeat. Not his. Hers.
He hunched over the laptop, fingers flying. Codes, signals, vitals—every second stretched like fire.
"Rudra… Anaya… she's—where is she?" Ravi's voice shook, barely contained panic.
"She's everything," Rudra shot back. "And alive."
"How… how do you know?"
"The bracelet. Connected. Feeding me her vitals." Rudra slammed his hand on the table, scattering charred remains. "Lose this… we lose her. All of her."
Ravi's fists clenched. "Whatever it takes, Rudra… block highways, exits… seal everything."
Rudra didn't look up, eyes glued to the screen, tracing every signal. "Do it. Now. Mobilize teams. Every exit, every road...find her."
"Rudra… the bracelet—"
"Later!" Rudra snapped, fingers flying. Pulses flickered, syncing, alive, alive.
The room erupted. Phones rang, commands shouted, teams mobilized. But Rudra stayed at the laptop, hyper-focused, jaw tight, eyes sharp. The ID card reflected on the big screen, reminding him exactly what was at stake.
Ravi hovered, fear and trust clashing. "Rudra… she's my sister. Don't fail her."
Rudra didn't answer. Fingers moved faster. Codes ran faster. The signal grew stronger. Alive. Fear. Stress. Every heartbeat a beacon.
"Found her," Rudra muttered, almost to himself. Then louder: "Everyone. Move. Now. No mistakes."
┈┈┈✧┈┈┈┈✧┈┈┈꒰ა ✦ ໒꒱ ┈┈┈✧┈┈┈┈✧┈┈┈
The Singhniya mansion was tense, thick with worry that felt like a physical weight pressing down on everyone. In the living room, Grandma Komal's hands trembled slightly as she clutched her cane, whispering prayers under her breath. "Hey Bhagwan… please… mere bachche ko bachaye… bachaye usko…"
Mrs. Singhniya knelt beside her mother-in-law, gently massaging her shoulders, murmuring her own prayers, "Bhagwan, please… meri beti ki protect karna… kuch bhi na ho uske saath…" Her voice trembled, the fear barely hidden behind the calm exterior she tried to maintain.
Janvi and Aarav entered the room together, urgency radiating from their steps. Janvi's eyes darted around, scanning the faces of every family member, and she spoke quickly, almost breathless. "Dadi… mummy… sab… suno… Anaya shows up in the last two clips. She's been seen… alive. We need to reach the meeting room… abhi."
Dadi Komal's body stiffened. Her health, already fragile, seemed to falter under the shock, a sharp worry flashing across her face. Mrs. Singhniya's hand tightened on her mother-in-law's, whispering reassurance, "Shhh… sab theek hoga… humare saath hai."
Rudra reached the meeting room last, dark eyes scanning everyone like a hawk. Every inch of him screamed controlled power, a predator coiled and ready. He leaned against the table, jaw clenched, muscles taut. "I won't let anything happen," he said low, almost growling, more to himself than anyone else. "It's the same person who tried to kidnap Anaya at the airport."
Ravi shifted beside him, unease clear in the tight set of his jaw. "This is our chance… I won't let anything happen to my sister," he said, voice taut with urgency.
Janvi gestured toward the big screen. "Bhai… Ravi bhai… Anaya shows up in the last two clips."
Rudra's gaze snapped to her. A dangerous glint of hope flashed in his dark eyes. Ravi's glance met his, unspoken acknowledgment passing between them—everything was in sync, aligned in that silent understanding of urgency and control.
Ria stepped closer, careful, taking the laptop from Janvi and connecting it to the massive screen. The room held its collective breath. Traffic scrolled across the lens, the sun reflected on asphalt, shadows shifting. Anaya's car had stopped, but the front camera caught only partial movement. The left side was blocked by a passing truck—one minute, twenty-five seconds of blank obstruction.
"Nothing here… weird," Janvi muttered under her breath, tension threading through her words.
The footage switched to a side-angle view. Anaya opened her car door to pick something up—opposite side to the camera. At that precise moment, a black car moved in, blocking the view entirely.
Rudra's fists slammed onto the table, the impact echoing sharply, reverberating in the tense room. "It's her car! No clue here—why isn't anything showing?!" His voice cut like a whip, charged with unspent fury. The devil in him radiated, every inch of his body coiled for action.
Ria rewound the footage carefully. "DSP, can you play it again? There's something in this black car…"
All eyes froze on the screen. The side window revealed a driver stepping out. Precise, deliberate movements, calculated. Rudra leaned closer, darkness pooling in his gaze. "Rewind. In order. Step by step."
Seconds ticked by, stretched tight with tension. Both Rudra and Ravi yelled together, "Stop!"
The frame froze. Anaya, wearing maroon sleeves, stepped out of her car. Janvi confirmed softly, "Yes… that's her color."
Another angle played, showing her exit again, but movement slightly obscured. Rudra's hand shot out, pointing. "Play the first front footage!"
Aarav muttered, "Bhai… yeh plan kiya gaya hai… too precise."
Rudra's palm slammed the table again, sharp enough to make the room flinch. "Stop!" Ria paused the video. The truck passed, obscuring everything.
"Rewind a few seconds," Aarav suggested. "Slow play… kuch to off hai."
Rudra leaned forward, intensity burning in his gaze. "Zoom. Bit more… stop! Stop!"
Ria obeyed, pausing exactly as the truck passed. White shoes appeared, a hand on the car door. Someone else was stepping into the car at the same moment Anaya stepped out.
Rudra's voice cut through the room like a knife. "Again… slow."
The video confirmed it. Another person slid into the car just as Anaya moved. Janvi's voice trembled, barely audible, "It means… someone switched with her."
Ravi's jaw clenched, his hand tightening into a fist. "It's right… but the burn spot, accident spot… there's no one there."
Rudra's gaze swept the room, fierce, hawk-like. "While ordering the search… officers, check everything. Believe me—we'll find her."
They left in haste, but Rudra didn't move. His eyes stayed fixed on Ravi. "Bring the last night's footage," he ordered.
Ravi hesitated. "Why now?"
"Something important… might be missing. That clip… it'll tell us." Rudra's voice was calm, but the tension coiled like a spring ready to snap.
The screens lit again. Rudra scrolled, frame by frame, scrutinizing every footstep, every movement. Silence pressed down. Fear crept through the room like a shadow.
Ria's voice trembled, low and fragile. "What… happened to Anaya? Kya… ho gaya uske saath?"
Rudra snapped his gaze to her, hard as flint. "Nothing. Nothing happened to her!" His voice sliced through the room, sharp and commanding. Ria's tears welled up, emotion spilling over. Janvi wrapped her arms around her tightly. "Shh… nothing happened… she's safe."
Ria's shaking intensified. "Rudra!" Ravi intervened, voice sharp. "Control your anger! You're scaring her!"
Rudra drew in a sharp breath, shoulders coiled, then exhaled slowly. "I'm… sorry," he murmured. The devil within him still simmered, but it was restrained.
Ravi's hand rested lightly on his shoulder. "I know, Rudra. But this isn't just your wife… she's my sister too."
The words landed in the room like a hammer. Aarav murmured, "Bhai… aur woh meri bhabhi hai…"
Ria's tears streamed freely. Janvi whispered, hugging her, "Aur meri best friend Bhi… mat bhoolna!!!."
Rudra stepped closer, slow, deliberate, every movement radiating protective fire. He wrapped Ria in a hug, strong, grounding, his voice low and steady. "I'm sorry… I'm controlling myself now."
The room exhaled collectively, but everyone knew: the fire behind Rudra's eyes hadn't gone. It was contained, coiled, lethal if provoked.
He stepped back, scanning the screen again. Every pulse, every movement, every decision mattered. The investigation was far from over, but Rudra was the calm eye of the storm. And everyone understood one truth: no one, nothing, would touch Anaya... not while he drew breath.
The footage glowed on the screens—the black car, the truck, small details invisible to the untrained eye. Rudra traced every frame, fingers poised, mind razor-sharp. The switch was deliberate. Someone had thought they could erase her. Someone had failed.
He leaned back, muscles taut, breathing controlled. "We'll find her. Every step. Every second. No mistakes."
Ria's tears slowed, Janvi and Aarav relaxed slightly, Ravi nodded. The devil might rule Rudra's face and fury, but his hands were steady, mind sharper than any blade in the room.
And in that silence, only the pulse of the city, the screens, and Rudra's dark determination remained. Dadi Komal whispered another prayer, Mrs. Singhniya clasped her hands, Janvi and Aarav's hearts raced, and Ria finally allowed herself to breathe—if only for a moment.
Rudra's eyes never left the screen, every movement, every heartbeat of Anaya mapped in his mind. The fire was contained, but the hunt had just begun.
✦ •─────────────• ✦ꕥ✦ •─────────────• ✦
Rudra's eyes never left the screen. Every movement, every heartbeat of Anaya was mapped in the glow of his monitors. The black bracelet on his wrist pulsed faintly, the heart engraved in it flickering with an urgent rhythm.
Not far from him, Ria watched, tense. Her own gold bracelet...the twin to Rudra's...sent its signals, glowing softly. The pulse, the light, the rhythm....it transmitted more than a heartbeat. It transmitted fear, stress, hyper-alertness. Anaya's body was reacting, and Rudra could feel it...through the bond of the bracelets.
His blood surged. Heart racing, mind firing at a hundred miles per hour. He scrolled through footage, checking street corners, routes, alleyways, every single road Anaya might have taken. He accessed each CCTV, hacking into traffic cams, analyzing angles, every movement. DSP Commissioner stood beside him, tense, watching the predator at work.
"Sir… her location…" the officer said, pointing to a flicker on the map.
Rudra's eyes narrowed. He typed rapidly, decoded the signals, cross-referenced the bracelet pulse with traffic cams, GPS anomalies, everything. And then—movement. The bracelet's pulse flared like a warning light. Anaya was moving. Alive. Hyper-alert. Somewhere. Not trapped… yet.
"Ria, check her bracelet signals again. I need precise coordinates. Now." Rudra's voice was low, lethal, but controlled.
Ria's fingers flew over the laptop. "Bhai… bhai… yeh..." she gasped, "her location… park… old park… outside of the city. She's there."
The room erupted into motion. Aarav and Janvi jumped into their car, engines roaring. Rudra didn't wait. He swept past the group, Ria hopping in behind him, laptop clutched tightly to her chest. Ravi slid in beside him, DSP Commissioner taking the rear.
Every second mattered. Mrs. Singhniya remained in the mansion, hands folded, praying softly yet firmly in a modern mother's way, eyes squeezed shut. "Hey Bhagwan… please… mere bacche ko bachaye… bachaye usko…"
The convoy roared to life, engines slicing through the city streets. Rudra's car led, black and commanding, Ria clutching her laptop, her bracelet now synced to his. The pulse from Anaya's bracelet flickered violently—fear, tension, urgency. Rudra's own bracelet mirrored it, pulsing in time, sending silent, coded messages through their bond.
Ravi's phone buzzed, connected to Janvi in the lead car. "Coordinates confirmed. Follow the signal."
Rudra's jaw clenched. The devil in him stirred, quiet but deadly. Every fiber of his being screamed, eyes sharp, fingers tight around the steering wheel. He pushed the accelerator harder, tires burning rubber against asphalt. Every heartbeat of his passenger, every flicker from the bracelet, was now guiding him.
The city blurred. Red lights, honking horns, the chaos of traffic—none of it mattered. All that mattered was the faint glow, the heartbeat, the signal telling him where she was.
Ria leaned closer, whispering, "Bhai… she's not far. But it's… she's scared. Someone's… near her."
Rudra didn't answer. He didn't need to. His focus was absolute. His mind, the road, the signal—they were one.
Behind them, Ravi coordinated with Janvi. "Stay on the GPS feed… don't lose the signal. We're right behind you."
The old park appeared on the horizon, trees swaying in the evening light. Rudra's hands tightened around the wheel, the bracelet on his wrist pulsing faster, warning him. Anaya was close. Someone was with her—he could feel it, through the flicker of light, the subtle change in heartbeat, the tension transmitted across their bracelets.
"Almost there," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. His lips pressed into a thin line, eyes narrowing. "Don't touch her. Not a step. Not a second. She's mine to find."
Ria swallowed, gripping the laptop. "Bhai… what do we do?"
Rudra's dark gaze flicked toward her, a predator's smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "We reach her… before they even realize she's moving."
The convoy surged forward. Engines roared. Every signal, every pulse, every second brought them closer. The bracelets flared in unison—gold and black, hers and his, transmitting fear, urgency, life, and connection. Rudra's heartbeat faster. Blood pumping. Devil in him awakened fully, but controlled—waiting, calculating.
As the trees of the old park loomed, Rudra's grip on the wheel tightened. Every shadow, every movement mattered. Every second counted.
The chapter ended not with a confrontation—but with the pulse. The signal. The bond. Anaya's location flashing across the screen, Rudra's eyes locking on it, and the city, the park, and the night waiting silently for what was coming next.
The hunt had begun.
And Rudra Singhniya… the Devil, the protector, the shadow in the storm… was already there.