Kanika's House, 6:00 PM
Kanika was getting ready.
Her curvy silhouette draped in a maroon shimmering saree that clung to her frame like second skin, paired with a full-length silver blouse with a sweetheart neckline.
Her jet-black, hip-length hair was neatly combed into a sleek mid-partition. A stroke of ruby red lipstick and a sharp liner framed her already large, expressive eyes—no kohl needed.
A tiny dark maroon bindi sat gracefully between her brows, enhancing the charm of her delicate face. A single silver chain rested on her collarbone, accompanied by small gold studs and a few elegant rings—minimalist yet enough.
As she spritzed her favourite vanilla perfume behind her ears, her phone buzzed.
Anakveer.
She picked up, holding the phone between her cheek and shoulder while screwing the cap back on the perfume bottle.
“Hello?”
“Open the door. I’m standing outside.”
Kanika glanced at the wall clock—sharp 6 PM.
“Wait a second, coming,” she replied, voice slightly rushed.
Tucking the perfume away, she dashed to the door and opened it with a bright smile.
Anakveer stood there, dressed in a sharp black suit paired with a silver shirt, his attention buried in his phone. Without even a proper glance at her, he walked past, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him, still scrolling.
Kanika stood there a moment, stunned, before finally snapping.
“Anak! Don’t you have any manners? Shouldn’t you at least compliment me or my look? Any other guy would’ve been drooling by now. But you? Stone-faced!”
He finally lifted his lashes and gave her a slow, nonchalant glance.
“You always look beautiful, Ani. Makeup and clothes don’t define that.”
Her lips twitched in suppressed annoyance, and she rolled her eyes.
“Whatever.”
Anakveer gave her another scan from head to toe.
“You look done. Shall we go?”
Kanika hesitated, biting her lower lip as if something was stuck in her throat.
Anakveer noticed.
“Ani, say it. We don’t have all day.”
She stammered.
“Wo... Actually… uhmm…”
“‘Actually’ ke aage badhengi? Ya mujhe khud samajhna padega?” His voice had turned firm now.
She swallowed hard but didn’t speak. Instead, she turned around, her back facing him, and swept her long hair over one shoulder, revealing the open blouse.
Clutching both sides of her saree in discomfort, she mumbled,
“Wo… strings… I can’t…”
Before she could finish, he stepped forward. Not wanting her to feel more vulnerable.
“Got it.” His voice had turned low—gruff, nearly intimate.
Without another word, he took hold of the blouse strings and tied them with practiced precision, careful and quick. Not even a whisper of skin contact. Once done, he immediately stepped away without looking at her.
Kanika, cheeks burning, rushed upstairs to grab her clutch and phone.
When she came down again, she saw him standing with a tie in his hand. He looked at her and silently held it out as if this was routine.
She raised a brow.
Without saying a word, she took it, looped it around her own neck—thanks to their height difference—and expertly formed a perfect Windsor knot. Then she transferred the knot to his neck, adjusted it neatly, and fixed his collar.
“Anakveer, don’t you think it’s high time you learned to tie a tie? You’re the future CEO of Rajput Corporation.” She teased.
He smirked and responded in the same tone,
“And you’ll still do it for me. Just because you’ve cleared your prelims and are on your way to becoming an IAS or IPS doesn’t mean I’ll give you some princess treatment. Samjhi?”
Kanika grinned wide.
“Mr. Rajput, we’re not kids anymore. We’re soon getting married. And FYI, I won’t be coming from my sasural to tie your tie. Plus, I’m a one-man woman. I won’t touch any other man except my husband. And I’m pretty sure your wife wouldn’t like me being too close either. So, better learn it now.”
Anakveer’s face darkened suddenly, his expression shifting into something unreadable—something dangerous.
“Why are you so desperate to get married all the time? First focus on your exams,” he said, voice rough.
Kanika's POV:
I swear I wasn’t wrong when I nicknamed him Sanakveer. No one really knows what goes on in his head or what might trigger his sudden tantrums. Huffing, I marched to the shoe rack and picked up my block heels.
If he doesn’t want to get married, fine. But why does he have to sound like a mausaji every time and drag exams into every conversation?
Sanki Sanakveer!
Leaning against the wall for support, she raised one foot to buckle the heel strap. But she lost her balance and stumbled.
Before she could fall, Anakveer caught her.
Then, without a word, he crouched down on one knee, gently placed her foot on his thigh, and fastened the strap—one foot, then the other.
He stood up slowly, his eyes locking with hers.
“Chalna to aata nahin abhi tak. Bina gire chal bhi nahin sakti. Aur shaadi karni hai? Pehle chalna seekh lijiye.”
Poker-faced, he turned and walked out, leaving her dumbfounded.
Kanika’s POV:
God knows what’s gotten into him today. Snapping at everything. Is he on his period or what?
Grabbing her things, she followed him outside and locked the door behind her.
“Come,” he commanded.
Out of nowhere, two tall men dressed in all black appeared before her like shadows. Their 6-foot combat-trained builds and sharp, alert gazes made them look more like warriors than bodyguards.
“They’ll guard the house while you’re away,” Anakveer said simply.
Both men bowed to her with silent respect. She gave a small, polite nod in return.
She didn't know they were just the surface layer—mere decoys. Eleven more shadow guards were already surrounding her house, placed by Anakveer long before she even asked for protection.
The thought of it brought a smirk to his lips as he settled into the driver’s seat and hit the road.
Kanika, still unaware, was busy fixing her makeup in the mirror—oblivious to the world, but watched over by a man who’d go to war for her without even letting her know.
In the Middle of the Journey
The city lights passed in a blur outside as the car cruised silently along the road. Kanika sat beside Anakveer, her mind momentarily lost in thoughts—until his eyes subtly flicked toward her hands.
Without taking his focus off the road, his voice came low, calm, but unmistakably firm.
“Why aren’t you wearing anything on your hands? Your wrists are bare.”
Kanika blinked, looked down at her hands, then replied with a soft, casual pout,
“Actually, I like it this way. Bangles or bracelets feel too much with a full-sleeve blouse. It looks more aesthetic without.”
But Anakveer didn’t seem satisfied. His tone turned a notch deeper—more commanding.
“I don’t like them empty. Next time, wear something. And if you’re bored of your old collection, we’ll go shopping tomorrow.”
There was a layer of possessiveness hidden beneath the words—subtle, but sharp. His voice had the air of a man who didn’t ask, but decided. A control freak, maybe. She wanted to argue, tease, or throw in a witty comeback—but the raw authority in his tone melted all her words.
All she could manage was a mumbled,
“No… I have enough. I’ll wear something next time.”
He didn’t respond. Instead, he shifted slightly back in his seat, still driving one-handed. With his left, he reached for the gold chain around his neck, gently tugged it off, looped it twice into a layered ring, and took her right hand in his.
Without even glancing at her, his fingers slid the chain onto her wrist, the larger loop resting snugly like a bracelet. Then, with the same effortless motion, he hooked one loop around her middle finger—tightening it into place. An improvised bracelet-ring that shimmered with quiet intimacy.
And he did it all while steering the car with his right hand—steady, controlled.
Something shifted inside Kanika.
Her heart leapt violently, crashing against her ribcage like a drumbeat gone rogue. Her throat tightened, oxygen felt like a privilege, and she reached for the water bottle with a trembling hand, trying to compose herself.
*It’s just a gesture. A harmless act by your best friend. Nothing else,* she told herself, over and over. But her body wasn’t listening.
Meanwhile, Anakveer remained completely focused on the road—unaware or uncaring of the storm he had just stirred in her.
The thick silence was broken by the ringtone vibrating from the car’s dashboard. Anakveer wasn’t wearing his earbuds.
“Kanika,” he said calmly, “Check who’s calling.”
She leaned forward and picked up the phone, eyebrows furrowing as an unfamiliar name lit up the screen.
“It says… SOVRANO?” she said in a confused tone, about to accept the call.
That name hit Anakveer like a bullet.
His body tensed immediately.
Without warning, the car screeched to a sudden halt, jerking both of them forward in their seats. The phone slipped from her hands and fell somewhere near her feet.
Just as she instinctively leaned down to retrieve it—
“Sit still! I’ll do it!” he barked—louder and more desperate than he meant to.
Kanika froze in surprise.
Before she could respond, he had already unbuckled his seatbelt and bent down towards her feet, frantically reaching under the seat to retrieve the phone. In a swift, secret motion, he pressed the power button and turned it off before slipping it into his pocket.
Then he sat back up, face unreadable.
Kanika looked at him like he’d lost his mind.
“Is everything okay with your brain? That was seriously dramatic.”
He forced a tight-lipped smile and responded smoothly,
“It’s just… not appropriate to let a woman bend down for something when there’s a man already there.”
She leaned toward him, suspicious now.
“Hmm…” She sniffed the air around him, causing him to subtly shift away from her.
“What are you doing?” he asked, puzzled.
“Trying to figure out if you’ve been drinking. Because the way you’ve been acting since you arrived—it’s weird,” she said, still sniffing like a detective.
Anakveer cleared his throat, adjusting his posture, and restarted the engine.
“You know I don’t drink or smoke when I’m around you,” he said quietly, eyes on the road once more.
__________________________________
By the time they arrived, the clock had already struck 7 PM. The party was coming alive with each passing second—soft lights glowing warmer, music louder, laughter heavier in the air.
As soon as they stepped inside, all eyes fell on Anakveer.
No one had expected him to actually show up. For most, his presence was nothing less than a celebrity sighting—elusive, unapproachable, mythical. The crowd whispered. Heads turned. Phones subtly tilted for candid shots.
Kanika walked beside him, calm and poised.
The event organiser hurried toward them, visibly elated. He first extended his hand toward Kanika, who received it gracefully with a polite smile. But as he turned to greet Anakveer, the latter was already about to shove his hands into his pockets, his expression bored.
Reluctantly, Anakveer extended his hand, shaking the organiser's hand for exactly two seconds, his expression stone-cold as though the man had some chronic disease.
Still, the organiser looked star-struck.
“Thank you, *Hukum*, for showing up! We never imagined you’d actually consider our invitation. Please, this way!”
They were guided toward the lounge area where plush couches and modern decor framed the mingling crowd—people chatting over mocktails, music vibrating in the walls, and servers floating around with silver trays.
The host personally ushered them to a central couch, giving them the best seat in the house. A bartender was signaled instantly.
Kanika accepted a mojito with her usual elegance. When she noticed Anakveer sitting like a sulking *shaadi mein ruthe hue fufa ji*, man-spreading with his phone in hand, she sighed. Picking another mojito from the tray, she handed it to him with a glare that clearly screamed *Behave.*
Anakveer took it from her, his gaze flicking toward the group standing nearby.
“We were batchmates once. No need for the VIP act,” he said, his tone commanding. “Go enjoy yourselves.”
They scattered at once—half smiling, half terrified.
---
Kanika, meanwhile, was struggling with the lighting for her selfies.
“Anak,” she said, tapping his knee, “Let’s go to the balcony. The light’s better there.”
With the grace of someone resigned to eternal servitude, Anakveer followed like a bound assistant.
She was busy adjusting angles when a small group of girls approached. They crowded around Anakveer, clearly excited, exchanging smiles and greetings.
He hated the attention, but with Kanika nearby, he kept his tone polite. Distant, but polite—no eye contact, no accidental brush of arms. Complete physical distance.
“Can we take a picture with you, *Hukum*?” one girl asked.
He was about to refuse, but Kanika gave him a slight nod—*Don’t be rude.*
Reluctantly, he said, “Sure.”
The girls closed in around him for the picture. Seeing that, Kanika quietly stepped aside, thinking he’d be more comfortable without her looming around.
Kanika and Anakveer had studied in the same college—same campus, same corridors, yet their academic paths had always been different. Different departments. The girls now fluttering around Anakveer were all from his course—girls who had seen him in classrooms, group projects, presentations.
So, Kanika instinctively stepped back.
She thought she should give them space.
She didn’t want to linger like an outsider or make things awkward. Quietly, with grace, she began to step away.
But she underestimated how closely Anakveer had been tracking her presence.
The moment the space beside him turned empty, his body shifted.
His gaze snapped sideways—shoulder tilting back just enough to catch her retreating figure, her back already to him, not even glancing once as she walked away.
That single act—her walking away without looking—made something snap inside him.
Without hesitation, and without drawing a flicker of attention, his hand shot out and wrapped firmly around her waist, pulling her back toward him in a single, seamless motion.
So fast. So subtle. So possessive.
Before she could react, she found herself standing at his side again, his palm resting protectively at her waist—hidden from view but deeply felt.
No one noticed.
But Kanika felt it like lightning.
The heat that exploded inside her chest left her stunned. A thousand sparks surged beneath her skin. Her heartbeat turned wild, loud enough she wondered if others could hear it too.
His palm rested securely on her waist—not letting go.
She tried to keep her composure as the girls smiled and posed, clueless. Her hand trembled slightly at her side. Eyes unsure, breaths uneven, she tilted her head the slightest bit to glance up at his face.
But his face remained neutral, cold even, as if nothing had happened. As if he wasn’t anchoring her to his side in the middle of a crowd, staking an unspoken claim.
Only when the girls walked away did he turn toward her.
His voice, low and rough:
“What was that just now? Why were you walking away?”
Kanika met his eyes—calm, yet carrying a weight of past trauma. There was something broken flickering in her smile as she replied,
“I’m like this only, Anak. I give up—just like that. Because I believe if something truly belongs to me, it will never let me go. And if it does, then it never was mine to begin with.”
Her voice was soft, laced with years of silent grief and surrendered acceptance.
“And I’ve mastered the art of making peace with it.”
She turned away, stepping back toward the hall.
But her steps halted when his breath brushed against her ear, his voice a promise forged in steel:
“And i will never let you go. Even if you want me to.”
Kanika chuckled softly without turning back.
“I know, *Mr. Sanakveer*.”
---
Just then, a loud voice rang out—
“Kanika!”
They turned. A group of girls waved excitedly from one of the corners. One of them gestured enthusiastically for Kanika to join them.
Kanika’s entire expression shifted—her smile now wide, genuine, the kind that reached her eyes.
She waved back.
But beside her, Anakveer’s jaw tightened. His face fell ever so slightly.
Then his phone screen lit up again.
And just like that, all color drained from his face.
SOVRANO.
Without another
word, he stepped aside, murmuring a half-hearted excuse, and walked out to attend the call.
It was unlike him.
He never took calls when he was with Kanika, especially not during a social event.
And the fact that he did now—spoke volumes.
__________________________________
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