Not Coincidence.

Not Coincidence.

For a moment, silence stretched between them—heavy, suffocating. The air around them felt thicker than ever.

Did she think this was his choice to make? Or that he had any other option?

She could blame him all she wanted. But this? This wasn’t allowed. She didn’t get to question his intentions. Not when it came to her. His intentions had never been impure where her life was concerned.

His eyes hardened.

“You don’t get to question my decisions.” Then he let out a low, humorless laugh. “Not when you’re the one who put yourself in danger.”

“Are you even hearing yourself?” The words slipped out before she could stop them.

He leaned closer, his voice dropping.

“Careful,” he paused. “You’re starting to speak like you understand things you don’t.”

His gaze didn’t leave hers—not even for a second.

“You walked straight into something you don’t understand,” he continued, quieter now, but far more dangerous. “And now you’re standing here, questioning me?”

His hand tightened against the railing beside her, caging her in. His knuckles turned white, the strain evident as his palms flushed red.

“Do you have any idea what could’ve happened to you?”

The words weren’t loud. But they hit harder than anything else he had said.

She paused.

“Let go!” she snapped. “Why don’t you just leave me alone?”

As if.

He would rather set the world on fire than let her go. That was never an option. He would destroy everything—everyone—before giving her the choice to leave him. He wouldn’t even allow her to think about it, much less act on it. Not when her life was in danger. Not when it involved her.

His labored, uneven breath fanned against her lips as he held her head captive in his unyielding grip, not allowing her to move even an inch. His gaze burned into her.

If he had to bring destruction upon the world, he would. Nothing mattered—as long as he had her.

“Do you understand the gravity of the situation?”

Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she nodded.

His gaze didn’t waver.

“Tell me something…”

She bit her lower lip.

“Did it ever occur to you…”

A pause.

“That everything you think you know… is wrong?”

Her breath caught. She had no answer.

“Then why did you do it?”

Frustration finally snapped inside her. It was too much—his accusations, his questions, all of it.

“Did what?” she demanded, her voice trembling despite her effort to stay composed. “What exactly did I do?”

His gaze swept over her face, slow and deliberate. One brow lifted slightly. The dangerous aura around him only intensified, suffocating the air between them.

“Did you,” he said quietly, “or did you not walk out of the main gate?”

Her eyes widened in realization.

The fear, the tension, the anger—all drained from her at once.

Was that why he was so furious?

Realization dawned on her—and his reaction left her dumbfounded. Was it really something worth this much rage?

Did he truly think it was that serious?

Catching her reaction, his grip tightened, turning painful. She struggled harder.

He looked enraged. No—he was enraged.

His fingers clamped around her jaw, forcing her to face him as he repeated,

“Did you?”

His eyes held a dangerous, unhinged glint.

“Or did you not?”

Pain shot through her jaw under his brutal hold. The pressure was relentless, her skin reddening beneath his grip.

And yet—his face remained composed. Calm.

As if he wasn’t doing something so cruel.

“I—I did.”

Her voice broke.

“Why?” he asked darkly. “Trying to escape again?” He swallowed. “Was the first time not enough for you?”

A fresh wave of tears welled in her eyes.

“N-no!”

She tried to pull back from his grip, but he didn’t let her.

“Oh no,” he murmured, his eyes darkening further. “You don’t get to step back now.” The rage in his gaze deepened. “Do you even realize what you’ve done?”

“I—I wasn’t…”

The words failed her.

“Because it seems to me that you don’t,” he cut in coldly. “Since I have to repeat myself.”

“It—it isn’t—”

He cut her off again.

“Oh, you weren’t?”

His eyes burned with savage fury.

“Were you?”

He didn’t give her the chance to respond.

How was she supposed to answer when he had already made up his mind about her?

“No!”

Her scream came out as a whisper.

“No!”

“Then how come you were willingly following their instructions?”

“I wasn’t!”

The memory from an hour ago rushed back to her. They had only asked for directions—nothing more. They didn't seem dangerous. It had felt like nothing but a coincidence. She had been out for a walk with her brother when it happened.

“Those people had nothing to do with me…” The words felt weak even as she said them.

If fear hadn’t stolen her courage, she would have explained everything to him already.

“I see,” he said, his voice calm—too calm—contrasting the storm raging in his eyes. “And what were you doing outside?”

“T-they just wanted help…” she stammered. “I was with Shaur… we were just taking a walk. It just… happened.”

His expression didn’t change.

“Are you even in a position to help anyone?” The words came out bitter. But they were true.

And Radhika knew it.

Her voice cracked. “I wasn’t trying to run from you…”

The words hung between them.

For the first time, something in his expression shifted.

Just slightly.

His grip loosened—barely.

“Then what,” he asked, his voice dangerously quiet, “were you running toward?”

Her breath caught.

Silence.

Her once frightened eyes flared with anger, rising with every passing second.

“I-I am not bound to—”

“Bound to what exactly?” he cut in, his voice sharp.

His eyes smoldered with fury.

“Go on. Tell me.”

A horrified gasp slipped past her lips as his grip tightened further.

“Even if they were,” he continued coldly, “who permitted you to talk to them?” His expression remained deceptively calm. “Did I not tell you to stay away from people you don’t know?”

“You make me stay away from everyone!” she shot back.

“Do you have any idea who they could have been?” he snapped. “They could have been a threat to you.” His voice hardened. “They could have been sent to kill both of you before you even had the chance to react.”

His fists curled, knuckles turning white.

“Damn it.”

“No—they weren’t!” she insisted, her voice shaking. “No, they-they were simply just asking for directions!”

“Directions?”

He let out a quiet laugh.

But there was no humor in it.

“What directions?”

“I—I don’t know.”

“You told them that?”

“Yes…”

“What else?”

“They just said thank you—and left…”

He stilled.

“And that’s exactly what they wanted you to believe.”

He exhaled slowly.

His gaze darkened.

“You just told them everything they needed.” It was a statement.

“Describe them.”

She hesitated.

“I—I don’t remember clearly—”

His grip tightened.

“Think.”

Her breath faltered.

“One of them… he had a scar. Near his eyebrow.”

Silence.

Something shifted in his expression.

Not anger.

Not fury.

Something far worse.

Recognition.

He stepped back suddenly.

Running a hand through his hair, his jaw clenched.

“No…” he muttered under his breath.

Her heart began to pound.

“What?” she whispered.

He looked at her again—this time, not just angry.

Alarmed.

Even the smallest spark could burn an entire forest.

And that man—he wasn’t the threat.

He was the warning.

He looked at her, his expression blank.

Irritation simmered beneath the surface, the muscles in his arms tightening visibly.

“They didn’t ask you for directions.”

A pause.

His voice dropped. “They were making sure it was you.”

“They didn’t even know me!”

“They didn’t need to.”

A step closer.

“You being on my turf…” His gaze darkened. “…was answer enough.”

~•~•~•~•~