Kabir Rathod's world was never silent.
Even on a business trip, even miles away from the city he controlled, danger followed him like a shadow that never left. The private jet cut through the night sky, lights dim, cabin quiet—but Kabir's mind was sharp, alert.
This trip wasn't just about contracts and factories.
It was about bloodlines, territory, and warnings.
Across the table, men spoke in low voices—names that never appeared on paper, deals that were never acknowledged publicly. Kabir listened more than he spoke, his presence alone enough to command obedience. When he finally did speak, it was calm, precise, final.
"No one touches what belongs to me," he said quietly.
Everyone understood what he meant.
---
Back in the city, Aara felt the absence before she knew its reason.
Kabir hadn't been at the office all day. His cabin lights were off, the glass walls empty. No tension in the air. No heavy silence following her movements.
She told herself she should feel relieved.
Instead, she felt unsettled.
At home that evening, Aara stood near the window, watching traffic blur into streaks of light. Her phone lay untouched beside her. She wondered where Kabir was—and immediately scolded herself for the thought.
Why did his absence feel louder than his presence?
She remembered his voice. His warning. The way he had looked at her when she asked for truth.
If I tell you everything, you won't sleep again.
Aara closed her eyes.
Maybe that was why she was thinking about him now.
---
On another side of the city, Rahul and Kavya sat in a quiet café, far from office politics and unspoken dangers.
"This place is surprisingly calm," Kavya said, stirring her coffee.
Rahul smiled faintly. "I come here when I need to think."
"About Kabir?" she asked.
"Sometimes," he admitted. "Sometimes about how much damage one man can cause without meaning to."
Kavya studied him. "You care about him."
"He's family," Rahul replied. "Even when he makes terrible choices."
Kavya hesitated, then spoke softly. "And Aara? Do you think he'll hurt her?"
Rahul looked away. "I think he's more afraid of hurting her than anything else."
Something shifted between them in that moment—an unspoken understanding, a shared concern.
Kavya relaxed slightly. "You don't talk like someone who trusts him."
"I trust his intentions," Rahul said. "Not his methods."
Their eyes met, and for the first time, the tension between them wasn't sharp—it was gentle.
---
Late at night, Kabir stood alone on the balcony of a high-rise hotel, phone pressed to his ear.
"Everything's moving faster than expected," Rahul's voice said. "Aara's restless."
Kabir's grip tightened. "Keep her safe."
"She doesn't want guards."
"Then keep them invisible."
A pause.
"You can't protect her from afar forever," Rahul added.
Kabir stared out at the unfamiliar city below. "I know."
He ended the call and looked down at his phone screen. Aara's name sat there, unsent messages beneath it.
He didn't type.
Distance was safer.
Or so he told himself.
---
That same night, Aara finally picked up her phone.
She opened Kabir's contact.
Then closed it again.
Because some connections didn't weaken with distance.
They sharpened.
And somewhere between an underworld meeting and a quiet city café, lines were shifting again.
Kabir Rathod was fighting battles she couldn't see.
Aara was fighting feelings she couldn't escape.
And neither of them realized yet—
Distance was only pulling them closer.