The car moved silently through the empty roads.
Aanya sat stiffly, her hands clenched in her lap, afraid to move… afraid to breathe too loudly.
He hadn't said a word since.
That scared her more than anything.
"Why me?" she finally asked, her voice shaking. "You don't even know me."
Aarav kept his eyes on the road. Calm. Controlled.
"I know enough," he replied.
She turned to him. "Enough for what?"
He stopped the car suddenly.
Aanya gasped as her body jolted forward.
Slowly, he turned to face her.
"For you to stop lying to yourself," he said quietly.
Her breath hitched. "I'm not lying."
"You were running," he continued, his voice steady. "People only run when they're scared… or guilty."
Her eyes burned. "You don't know what I've been through."
"You're right," he said.
"I don't."
Then he leaned closer, his presence suffocating.
"But I will."
Her heart pounded violently.
"Get away from me," she whispered, even though she didn't move.
Aarav studied her face — the fear, the confusion, the fragile strength she didn't even know she had.
"Look at me," he ordered softly.
She shook her head.
His finger lifted her chin gently, forcing her eyes to meet his.
"No one has touched you like this," he said. "Not because you're weak… but because you're guarded."
Tears welled up in her eyes. "Please… don't."
Something flickered in his gaze.
Not mercy.
Interest.
"You should've chosen a better place to run," he murmured.
"Because now… you belong to my world."
The car started again.
Aanya stared out the window, her reflection trembling in the glass.
She didn't scream.
She didn't cry.
But deep inside, she felt it—
The beginning of something dangerous.
Something she might not survive.