The corridors of the hospital echoed with urgent footsteps and hurried whispers. Fluorescent lights flickered above, casting long shadows across the pale tiled floors as two men arrived in a frenzy. One was tall, middle-aged, and visibly anxious—his tailored suit wrinkled from the drive, eyes darting for a room number. Beside him strode a younger man—broad-shouldered, regal in bearing, every step exuding a quiet dominance. His sharp jawline was tense, his eyes a cold storm of worry and fury. Aahil Shah.
"There she is!" the younger man growled the moment he spotted her.
Before she could react, Aahil had crossed the distance in long, powerful strides and grabbed her arm.
Raneya stood outside Room 203, her fingers wringing the edge of her shawl, her breath shallow. as she glanced between the glass panel and the hallway. Every second dragged like an eternity, waiting for the doctor's verdict. Her heart beat not with fear for herself this time—but for the frail woman who had nearly died because of her fate's twisted turn. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, her heart still recovering from the nightmarish chase and the bloodied accident.
"There she is!" the younger man growled the moment he spotted her.
Before she could react, Aahil had crossed the distance in long, powerful strides toward her like a tidal wave of fury.
"This is your doing, isn't it?" he thundered, eyes blazing. "You reckless—how dare you just stand here?!" Before Raneya could speak, his hand clutched her upper arm, shaking her as he spat, "What the hell did you do to my grandmother?!"
Raneya stumbled back, too shocked to respond. His words pierced through her like shards of ice. She opened her mouth, but the elder man—Justice Shah—stepped in, placing a hand on Aahil's shoulder.
Raneya's lips parted in shock. "I—I didn't…"
His eyes—sharp, stormy, and brimming with protective rage—scanned her face like daggers. He looked barely older than her, but his presence was suffocating. Behind him, his father stepped forward.
"Aahil. Enough."
"She—!"
"She saved your grandmother," the elder said sternly, placing a hand on his son's shoulder. "Let the police speak."
The constable had arrived just in time, stepping between them. "She was the one who brought the victim here after the hit and run. We've taken her statement and started the report. The girl isn't at fault. Quite the opposite.Without her, your mother might've bled out on the road."
Aahil said nothing, only turned his head sharply to the side with a clenched jaw and storm brewing in his eyes. No apology came from his lips. He brushed past Raneya, not offering a single word, not even a nod of acknowledgment. His silence was louder than any insult. Raneya watched him, her own eyes narrowing—not with fear, but quiet indignation.
Justice Shah nodded gravely and turned to Raneya as he sighed. "I apologize for my son's behavior, my child. He's... very close to his grandmother. He'll calm down soon."
Raneya gave a stiff nod. "I understand," she murmured, though her pride ached. It wasn't the aggression that wounded her—it was the assumption. The mistrust.
The doctor emerged moments later, his face solemn before softening. "She's conscious. Out of danger, but she needs full rest and care. We'll keep her for monitoring."
Without a word, Aahil brushed past everyone and entered the room.
Raneya's lips parted slightly. So that was how he handled love—like a tempest, refusing to say the words but showing it in silence. Still, his arrogance burned her nerves raw. She stayed rooted in the hallway. She didn't like his behavior—arrogant, aggressive, disrespectful—but part of her heart softened, understanding that it came from fear.
She was still processing the whirlwind of events when Justice Shah turned to her once more. "Thank you," he said quietly. "For everything. If you hadn't helped her…"
He didn't finish the sentence. Instead, he placed a hand over his heart in a rare display of sincerity, then turned and followed his son into the room.
Inside, Razia Begum lay on the hospital bed, her frail frame surrounded by tubes and bandages. Her eyelids fluttered open at the sound of the door, and as soon as she saw Aahil, her eyes moistened.
"My boy…" she whispered, her voice cracking.
Aahil strode over and knelt by her bedside, taking her hand and kissing it softly. His composure trembled, but he didn't let go. "You scared me, Dadi."
"My lion, I'm still here," she smiled gently. "But I want to see the girl… the one who saved me."
Aahil stiffened. "There's no need—Daadi, she's just some girl—"
"I said," she interrupted, her voice gaining strength, "I want to meet her."
Aahil hesitated, jaw clenched, but he couldn't deny her. Defeated by her insistence, Aahil rose with a silent sigh and exited the room.
He spotted Raneya just as she was walking away, her figure small yet determined beneath the harsh fluorescent light.
"You. Come with me," he ordered coldly, like a king summoning a subject.
Raneya stopped in her tracks, eyes wide, before spinning on her heel finding Aahil standing like a shadow at the end of the hallway, arms crossed, chin tilted in command. His face was sculpted—sharp jawline, defined cheekbones, a storm in his eyes that refused to settle. Even in his disheveled state, he radiated authority.
"I'm not your servant," she snapped, her voice low but unwavering. "I helped your grandmother because it was the right thing to do. Not because I owe you anything."
Their eyes locked—his, dark and blazing; hers, unyielding and fearless. Aahil's eyes narrowed, amused and infuriated by her defiance.
"You have quite the tongue for someone living off fate's mercy," he muttered.
"I still have my dignity," she fired back, meeting his gaze without flinching.
There was a flicker—just a second—where something unreadable crossed Aahil's expression. And then, without warning, he reached for her arm again and dragged her with him.
"You will come. She's asking for you."
She wanted to resist— every instinct screamed to, but she didn't—not for him—but for Razia Begum.
And just like that… her anger vanished.
The moment the old woman saw her, her face lit up like the sun breaking through a storm.
"You," Razia whispered, stretching her trembling hand forward. "You brought me back from death…You're my angel"
Raneya rushed forward, her anger forgotten as she knelt beside the bed and grasped the old woman's hand. It was warm, fragile, but firm with gratitude.
"I'm glad you're okay," she said, her voice thick with emotion.
Razia Begum chuckled weakly. "More than okay. Because I met you.You saved me," Razia said, her eyes filling. "You are not a stranger. You are someone I feel... I was meant to meet."
Raneya blinked rapidly. "You remind me of someone I lost," she murmured. "Someone kind."
"I want you to come with me," Razia declared, to everyone's shock. "I need care. My son and grandson are always buried in courtrooms and boardrooms. You—at least you hear people's heartbeats."
She then turned her head toward her son and grandson. "I want her to come home with me. I need someone around who actually cares. Not two men who only come when I'm dying."
"Ammi…" Justice Shah started, but Razia Begum raised her hand.
"I'm serious. I want her."
Aahil's expression darkened at the corner, his arms crossed tightly across his broad chest. Justice Shah stepped forward, his eyes warm but shrewd.
Justice Shah turned to Raneya. "Would you… consider it? My mother sees something in you," he said thoughtfully. "And I must admit—your courage today was rare. If you agree, we'd like to bring you to our home... at least until she recovers."
Raneya hesitated. Her heart thudded in her chest, a storm of emotions stirring—fear, uncertainty, the urge to run… and a strange pull towards the old woman who now looked at her like family.
She glanced at Aahil. His gaze was sharp, unreadable.
Raneya froze. Her throat tightened.
Going home with strangers? After everything she had escaped?
And yet… the thought of leaving this hospital, blending in, hiding in plain sight—perhaps it was her only real chance. A way to disappear from the predators hunting her. And she liked this woman. Warm, fierce, kind.
"I… I'll come," she finally said.
Razia Begum smiled, content, her eyes closing in peace as she murmured, "Then it's settled."
As Raneya gently fed her the soup a nurse had left, the two women fell into soft conversation. It was warm, quiet—almost like they had known each other all their lives.
Outside the room, Aahil stood with his back to the door, arms crossed as Justice Shah turned toward him.
"She doesn't seem dangerous," he said carefully.
"She's something,"I don't like her," Aahil muttered, his voice low and thoughtful.
""That's not what I said! Your grandmother likes her and that is what's important. Still… we must be cautious. Have someone look into her background. Quietly. I want to know exactly who we've just brought into our lives."
Aahil didn't answer. He only stared through the small glass panel in the door—at the girl who'd defied him without blinking… and smiled at his grandmother like she belonged.
And at that moment, for reasons he didn't understand—he didn't look away.
Because even though the girl had walked in like an angel… there was something haunting behind her eyes.
And Aahil Shah didn't trust angels. Especially not the ones who bled like devils.