Raaz’s POV

The afternoon light bled through the blinds, but Raaz’s mind was storming darker than the skies the night before.

Yash stood near the foot of the bed, still making calls, but Raaz wasn’t a man who waited. He never had been. Especially not when it came to loyalty—or obsession.

“Yash,” Raaz said, his voice low but firm. “Get the hospital administrator. Now.”

“Raaz, you just came out of surgery. You need rest—”

“I need her.”

Yash didn’t argue further. Within ten minutes, the terrified hospital administrator, along with the head of security, stood in Raaz’s room, pale and sweating.

“I want every second of CCTV footage from the emergency wing,” Raaz ordered. “From the moment I was brought in last night.”

“Yes, sir,” the man nodded quickly. “Right away.”

The laptop was wheeled in. Yash helped queue up the footage. Raaz’s eyes, though heavy with fatigue and medication, stayed sharp.

And then—there she was.

Drenched in rain. Blood on her hands. Panic in her eyes. Supporting his almost-limp body with all her strength.

Raaz leaned forward, ignoring the pull of stitches.

“Pause,” he commanded. The frame froze. Her face—frightened, delicate, beautiful.

“Zoom in.”

Yash complied.

Raaz stared.

There it was again—that soft fire in her. She looked terrified, but not for herself. For him. She held him like he meant something.

And then he saw it. The moment she screamed at the doctor. Her lips moving furiously. Her eyes burning with conviction. Then—

She kissed him.

He watched that moment in stunned silence. It hadn’t been a dream. She had actually kissed him, right there, in front of everyone… to save him.

Something sharp tugged at his chest.

“You see her again anywhere?” he asked Yash.

Yash clicked through more footage. They found her later, pacing outside the operation theatre. Slipping her ring to the nurse with trembling fingers. Leaving the hospital quietly. Alone.

“I want the best facial tracking analyst in the city,” Raaz said. “I don’t care what it costs. We’ll scan this image and track every street cam, every ATM feed near this hospital.”

“You think she lives close by?” Yash asked.

“She was on foot. No umbrella. That means local. College bag… probably a student.”

“And when we find her?” Yash asked cautiously.

Raaz’s eyes didn’t blink.

“I'll thank her properly.”

But deep inside, it wasn’t gratitude that burned in his chest—it was a hunger to know her name, her world, and why his cold heart had started beating again the moment she touched him.

Raaz’s POV

The air in the hospital meeting room turned dense as Raaz sat in his wheelchair, draped in black, his expression unreadable. Yash stood beside him, arms folded, eyes fixed on the trembling doctors, nurses, and administrative staff lined up before them.

"Each of you," Raaz began, his voice low and lethal, "saw a woman beg to save a life last night."

No one dared speak.

"A woman who, unlike you, had courage. A woman who gave up something valuable, something personal—her ring."

He placed a photo on the table. A grainy screenshot from the CCTV. The moment Aanya slipped her ring into the nurse’s hand.

“Return it.”

The nurse who’d accepted it stepped forward with a shaking hand and placed the ring in Raaz’s palm.

He closed his fingers around it gently, like it was made of glass. His gaze burned through the room.

“This ring belongs to someone I owe my life to. You refused her. You humiliated her. And for that…”

He looked at Yash.

“All of them. Gone.”

Yash nodded once. “You’re all fired. And if I find even one of you in any hospital within the next five years, I’ll consider it an insult to her name. And I don’t take insults lightly.”

Tears welled up in a few eyes. Some tried to beg. None were heard.

As the group was escorted out, Raaz looked down at the ring in his palm. His thumb traced it slowly, and something like a promise formed in his gaze.

“I don’t know her name. But I’ll find her. My queen.”

Aanya’s POV

The sun was bright again. It felt almost wrong.

Aanya walked through the college gates trying to shake the memory of the night before. The blood, the panic, the lie she had told to save a stranger. A stranger whose face she couldn't stop seeing.

Her fingers still felt the touch of his cold skin. Her lips still burned with the memory of that kiss.

“Aanya!”

She turned. Samay jogged up to her, offering his usual warm grin. “You okay? You look… I don’t know. Distant.”

“I’m fine,” she said quickly. “Just didn’t sleep much.”

“You sure?” he asked again, gently.

She nodded, forcing a small smile. “Really.”

Just then, Tara joined them, beaming as usual. “Aanya! You missed me?”

Aanya laughed for the first time that morning. “Always.”

“Tara, this is Samay,” she said. “Samay, Tara.”

The two exchanged greetings, instantly hitting it off with playful banter.

“You know what?” Tara grinned. “Let’s go watch a movie today. You need a break.”

Aanya hesitated.

“Come on,” Samay joined in. “It’ll be fun. Just us three.”

Aanya looked at both of them—their easy smiles, their warmth.

“Okay,” she said quietly, not knowing that far away, someone else was vowing to break the silence of her world forever.

The multiplex was buzzing with life — popcorn aroma, soft music, and the murmur of pre-show chatter. Aanya sat between Tara and Samay, watching the trailer montage with a soft smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

She was trying.

Trying to forget the blood on her clothes.

Trying to forget the warmth of his hand around hers.

Trying to forget the heaviness of the ring she no longer had.

“Which popcorn do you want?” Samay asked, leaning toward her. “Classic salted, caramel, cheese—”

“Anything’s fine,” she said absently, her fingers clutching the drink cup tighter than necessary.

Tara nudged her with a knowing look. “You’ve been zoning out all day.”

Aanya forced a laugh. “I’m just tired. And the rain last night gave me a headache.”

They didn’t press further.

During the movie, Samay whispered funny commentary that made Tara snort, and even Aanya chuckled at times. But inside, she felt numb. A slow ache sat heavy in her chest — the kind of ache that doesn’t come from pain, but from uncertainty. Who was he? Was he okay? Had she done the right thing?

Her fingers reached to her ring finger instinctively. Bare.

During a particularly emotional scene in the movie, she blinked fast to hide her tears. The lead actress sat beside her lover in a hospital bed, holding his hand.

Her vision blurred.

Tara noticed and gently wrapped her arm around Aanya’s.

“Whatever it is,” she whispered, “you’re stronger than you think.”

Aanya just nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

After the movie, they went to a nearby café. The warmth of the tea helped, the banter between Samay and Tara filled the silences.

Still, Aanya found herself glancing at alleyways, flinching at red-stained clothes in a billboard, and pulling her cardigan tighter even though it wasn’t cold.

She smiled.

She laughed.

But deep inside, something had changed.