After a few hours…
"When will she wake up?" she heard a deep voice, calm yet edged with restrained worry.
'Who is he? Where am I?' She tried to remember, but her mind was a blur, floating in a void with only fragments of fear and blood.
"We are doing our best, Mr. Varde. Her vitals are stabilising. It's only a matter of time now," replied a female voice, probably a nurse.
'Vitals…? Are they talking about me? Why can't I open my eyes?' she thought, trying to lift her eyelids. They felt like lead, and before she could try again, exhaustion pulled her back into the darkness.
.
.
.
She didn't know how many hours had passed, but when she regained consciousness again, her lashes fluttered open. The bright lights overhead forced her to shut them tight. Blinking against the glare, she slowly opened them again.
Everything felt off.
She tried to turn her head toward the beeping sound beside her,an ECG machine, maybe...but her neck wouldn't move. A brace? Her throat was parched. She wanted to call out, but her voice was barely a whisper.
For minutes that felt like hours, she lay there, fighting the drowsiness that clawed at her.
Then..click...the door opened, and a nurse walked in.
"You woke up?" she said, surprised, and quickly pressed a call button.
"Wa… wa… water…" she managed to croak out.
Before the nurse could help, the door burst open again. Three doctors, led by a middle-aged man in a white coat, hurried in.
"Welcome back, Miss. Please don't panic. You've been unconscious for three months," the lead doctor said, checking her vitals swiftly and efficiently.
"Doctor, she asked for water," the nurse reported while assisting him.
"Wet her lips first, then offer small sips through a straw," he instructed.
The nurse returned quickly and helped her take a few sips. Even that felt like too much. Her body was still in recovery.
"How are you feeling? Any pain in your head?" The doctor asked.
"N-no…" she whispered weakly. But the moment the words left her mouth, a sharp pain stabbed through her skull. Her breath hitched. Images flooded her mind...blood, gunfire, the dark alley, and someone who was shouting her name in panic, holding her dearly…
And then—darkness again.
Panic swept the room. Machines beeped rapidly as the doctors checked her vitals. The doctor barked orders while the nurse stabilised her.
"Inform Mr. Varde that she regained consciousness," he instructed as he left.
.
.
.
When she woke again, it was quieter. Dimmer. She stared at the ceiling, memories flickering like a broken reel.
'Brother… where is he? Did he come to meet me? What happened? How… how am I still alive?'
And then a name slipped from her lips—barely audible but laced with venom.
"Chaitra…"
She didn't notice the man standing near the door, watching her with stormy brown eyes and a softened expression.
He stepped closer, his footsteps calm, deliberate.
She turned to look, and for a second, she forgot how to breathe.
Tall. Sharp suit. Sculpted face. Dark brown eyes that bore into her like they'd known her soul forever.
She'd grown up around dangerously good-looking men, her brothers were the living proof, but this man was something else. Not just handsome. Charismatic. Commanding. Unsettling. Just like him, the one from her dreams.
Her gaze lingered on his thick brows, the sharp cut of his jaw, the slight bob of his Adam's apple.
And then—
'Ahem.'
He cleared his throat, and she blinked rapidly, cursing herself inwardly.
'Anya! What the hell are you thinking? Pull it together.'
"How are you feeling?" His voice was calm and respectful, but there was a flicker of relief in his eyes.
"I… I'm okay. But… who are you? Why am I here? What is this place? What do you want from me?" Her voice was shaky, but her eyes were sharp, defensive.
"I'm Agastya. You're in Mumbai. I found you badly injured and brought you here. You've been unconscious for a long time." He said with a sting of pain in his voice. 'She doesn't remember me,' he thought bitterly.
Mumbai. That explained the accents. And the hospital. But still… why?
She scanned his face again. Sincere. No malice. But she couldn't afford to trust anyone...not now...
"You're brave to take in a stranger," she said cautiously, narrowing her eyes.
He smiled faintly. 'My darling still hasn't changed...'
"I didn't save just any stranger. I saved you," he said simply, taking the seat beside her.
She stiffened slightly.
"Naina… are you really okay?" he asked softly.
She nodded. 'Naina' was the alias she used on missions. He didn't know who she truly was—Anya Varma, sister to the Varma syndicate head and daughter of a bloodstained legacy. It was safer that way.
"What happened to you that night? Why were you there?" Agastya's eyes searched hers.
She didn't answer. Her expression turned cold. The warmth drained from her face like a curtain falling.
"It's okay. You don't have to say anything now," he said, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from her face.
Her breath caught in her throat.
She should've slapped his hand away. No man touched her without consequences.
But this? This… she didn't hate.
'What the hell is happening to me?'
Her emotions were tangled...foreign, unfamiliar. Dangerous.
She stared into his warm brown eyes with her pitch-black ones, unblinking, searching.
Knock...Knock.
The moment shattered.
His assistant, Nithin, stood awkwardly at the door. He gave a respectful nod before speaking.
"Apologies, sir. There's an emergency board meeting scheduled in 30 minutes. It… it can't be delayed."
Agastya didn't look away from her.
He was still watching her.
And she… wasn't sure she wanted him to stop.
Looking at his assistant, Agastya immediately understood, it was time for him to leave. If not for the fact that the opposing party was already waiting in his company's conference room, he would have postponed the meeting without a second thought.
"I have a meeting to attend. Once I'm done, I'll come and accompany you," he said, leaning down and pressing a quick, tender kiss to her forehead. His voice softened as he added, "If you need anything, just tell the nurse, my assistant's number is with her. Wait for me."
He caressed her soft lips lightly with his thumb, lingering for a moment longer than necessary, before pulling away with obvious reluctance.