Chapter 1

Hlowww, Tulipsss! 🌷

Ishani is here! 👀
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𝓜𝔀𝓪𝓱𝓱 💋 𝓗𝓪𝓹𝓹𝔂 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰! 🌷

Tu meri mohabbat nahi, meri sabse gehri aadat hai,
Woh aadat jise chhodne ka khayal bhi mujhe andar se tod deta hai.

Tujhe chaahna meri khwahish nahi, meri fitrat ban chuka hai,
Tera naam meri dhadkanon mein kuch yun utar chuka hai.

Duniya tujhe sirf ek shakhs samjhe,
Mere liye tu meri poori duniya hai.
Teri ek muskurahat meri kamzori,
Aur tera ek aansu meri sabse badi saza hai.

Main tujhe paane ki zid nahi karta,
Main bas itna jaanta hoon...
Meri rooh ne tujhe apna maan liya hai,
Aur ab kisi aur naam ke liye usmein jagah nahi.

Ishq agar junoon hai, toh tu mera junoon hai.
Ishq agar ibadat hai, toh tu meri ibadat hai.
Aur agar mohabbat mein khud ko khona gunaah hai...

Toh tere ishq mein
main woh gunaah baar-baar karna chahta hoon.

New York was a city that never learned how to slow down. Even after sunset, Manhattan remained alive beneath a thousand artificial stars. Cars rushed through crowded streets, yellow taxis disappeared around corners, skyscrapers reflected the restless glow of the city, and strangers moved past one another without ever wondering about the stories hidden behind unfamiliar faces. Everyone seemed to be running toward something—a dream, a deadline, a better life—or perhaps simply away from something they didn't want to remember.

Somewhere in the middle of that chaos, a young woman finally stepped out of the Manhattan Heart Institute after one of the longest shifts of her life. Ishani Singhania stopped beneath the hospital entrance and inhaled the cool evening air, allowing it to fill her lungs after hours of surgical lights, monitors, reports, emergency calls, anxious families, and a patient's heartbeat that had refused to cooperate until she forced it to.

Twenty-one hours. She had been awake for twenty-one hours, and every part of her body was reminding her of it. Her shoulders ached, her feet hurt, and her brain had officially declared war on her. Yet, despite the exhaustion written across her face, there was a quiet satisfaction in her eyes. Another life had been saved. Another patient would get to go home.

For most people, that would have been enough to make the exhaustion disappear. For Ishani, it never quite worked that way. Saving a life was never glamorous once the operating-room doors closed. There were no dramatic celebrations, no applause, and no music playing in the background. There was only silence after the adrenaline faded and the realization settled in that someone's life had been placed in your hands and, for a few terrifying hours, you had been responsible for keeping it there.

She adjusted the strap of her handbag and glanced at the hospital behind her. A nurse passing by smiled at her.

"Good night, Doctor."

Ishani returned the smile automatically. "Good night."

The nurse disappeared toward the parking area, and Ishani's smile slowly faded. She rubbed her tired eyes and muttered, "Bas. Aaj ke liye enough."

Her phone vibrated inside her handbag. She pulled it out, and the moment she saw the name on the screen, her tired expression softened.

Massi ❤️

She answered immediately. "Finally," she murmured.

The video connected, and before Ishani could even say hello, a familiar face appeared on the screen.

Aarav.

"Look who finally decided to remember that she has a family."

Ishani stared at him. "Bhai, I have been awake for twenty-one hours."

Aarav raised an eyebrow. "And somehow you still have enough energy to argue with me."

"That's because arguing with you is cardio."

A woman's laughter came from somewhere behind him. "Both of you stop fighting the moment I see you."

Ishani smiled. "Massi, tell your son to stop disturbing me."

Aarav gasped dramatically. "Mom, did you hear that? Your daughter is emotionally abusing me."

"You're enjoying it," Massi replied.

"I absolutely am not."

"You are."

Ishani laughed softly. For a few minutes, the exhaustion disappeared. That was the strange thing about family. Sometimes a familiar voice could make an unfamiliar city feel less lonely.

Aarav watched her through the screen for a moment before his expression became softer. "When are you coming home, Ishu?"

The question made her smile fade slightly.

Home.

She looked toward the traffic moving beyond the hospital gates. "Soon."

Aarav's eyes narrowed. "You said that three years ago."

"I've been busy."

"You're always busy."

"I like my work."

"I know." His voice softened. "But work isn't the only thing waiting for you."

Ishani didn't answer immediately. There were some conversations she avoided because she knew exactly where they would lead: India, Jaipur, her father, her mother, the house, the past, and everything she had spent years trying not to think about.

So she smiled instead. "I'll come when I feel like it."

Aarav sighed. "You're impossible."

"And you're dramatic."

"Goodnight, Ishu."

"Goodnight, Bhai."

The call ended, but Ishani continued staring at her phone for another moment before slipping it back into her handbag. She didn't know it yet, but that conversation would be one of the last ordinary moments of her life. Sometimes life didn't announce the moment everything changed. Sometimes it simply placed a stranger in your path.

Several floors above the city, another world existed entirely.

The boardroom of Rathore Global Group was silent—not peaceful, but silent. There was a difference. A large presentation continued on the screen, displaying financial projections and expansion models while a senior executive explained the company's proposed strategy for the upcoming quarter. No one interrupted him, not because the presentation was perfect, but because everyone in the room was waiting for one man's reaction.

At the head of the table sat Rudransh Rathore.

He wore a black suit with a white shirt and no tie. His sleeves were folded neatly at his wrists, revealing a luxury watch that cost more than most people's annual salaries. A file rested before him, and he turned one page, then another, while the executive continued speaking.

"...and based on the projected market expansion, we estimate—"

Rudransh closed the file.

The sound was quiet, but the entire room stopped breathing.

He lifted his eyes. "Rejected."

The executive swallowed. "Sir, if you allow me to explain—"

"You already did."

Rudransh's voice was calm, almost indifferent. He pushed the file across the table. "Your projections depend on three variables you don't control."

The executive glanced at the document. "Sir..."

"You're assuming the market will behave according to your spreadsheet." Rudransh leaned back. "It won't."

Nobody spoke.

He continued calmly, "Prepare the proposal again. Remove the fantasy numbers. Give me something that can survive reality."

The executive nodded immediately. "Yes, sir."

Rudransh stood. The meeting was over. There was no announcement and no dramatic speech. He simply walked out, and the moment the doors closed behind him, the room collectively exhaled.

Rudransh Rathore didn't need to shout. He didn't need to threaten. His reputation had already done the work for him.

Outside the boardroom, his phone vibrated.

Aarav.

Rudransh answered. "What?"

Aarav's voice came from the other end, equally gruff. "Did your meeting go well?"

Rudransh pressed the elevator button. "It was a meeting."

"That bad?"

"It was inefficient."

"So, yes."

Rudransh stepped into the elevator. "Why are you asking?"

"Because you sound more irritated than usual."

"I'm always irritated."

"True. But this sounds different."

Rudransh said nothing.

Aarav sighed. "At least give me a date when will you come."

"I'll come soon."

"How soon?"

"After I complete what I came here to do."

"And what did you come here to do?"

Rudransh's eyes darkened slightly.

"Finish something important."

Aarav studied his silence through the phone.

"You're not talking about the meeting, are you?"

"No."

"Then what is it?"

Rudransh stepped out of the elevator and walked toward the exit, his expression calm but his thoughts far from it.

"Something that will change everything once I return."

Aarav's voice softened. "Rudransh, what are you planning?"

Rudransh stopped near the entrance and looked out at the city lights.

"I'll be back soon."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only one you're getting."

Aarav let out a tired breath. "Come back soon, Rudransh."

This time, Rudransh didn't remain silent.

"I will."

There was a quiet certainty in his voice.

He would return to India soon.

But not before completing the one thing he had come to New York for.

The elevator doors opened, and he stepped into the quiet lobby.

"I'll come when I can."

"That's still not a promise."

"I don't make promises I can't keep."

Aarav was silent for a few seconds before replying, "Fine. Just don't forget that people are waiting for you here."

Rudransh's jaw tightened slightly.

"I haven't forgotten."

The call ended, and Rudransh stared at his phone for a moment before slipping it back into his pocket. He knew Aarav would continue worrying until he returned. He also knew that, no matter how far he went or how much he tried to hide, Aarav would always be there—the one person who would stand beside him without asking for anything in return.

Aarav wasn't just Rudransh's best friend. He was his brother in every way that mattered—his chosen family, his constant, and the one person who had known him long enough to recognize the silence behind his words.

They had grown up together, stood beside each other through every victory and every disaster, and survived enough years side by side to stop needing explanations. Different mothers, different families, but the same bond. Brothers from different mothers.

Aarav knew Rudransh better than anyone else did. He knew when Rudransh was angry, when he was hiding something, and when his calm voice meant that something inside him was dangerously close to breaking. That was why he never accepted Rudransh's dismissive answers easily.

The call ended, and Rudransh stepped into the elevator. As the doors closed, an odd restlessness remained in the back of his mind. He couldn't explain it. He simply knew something felt different about tonight.

He dismissed the thought. He had more important things to deal with.

Hours later, Ishani finally decided to walk home instead of taking a cab. She needed air. After twenty-one hours inside a hospital, she needed anything that didn't smell like antiseptic.

The city had softened slightly beneath the night sky. Restaurants remained open, music drifted from small cafés, and pedestrians hurried along the sidewalks wrapped in coats. Ishani stopped outside a bakery, and her eyes immediately landed on the display of pastries.

She stared at them.

The pastries stared back.

"No," she told herself firmly.

She continued walking, but five steps later, she stopped and turned around. "Okay. Fine."

A few minutes later, she walked out with a pastry in her hand. She took one bite and nodded approvingly. "Worth it."

She continued walking, completely unaware that her evening was about to become considerably more complicated.

A faint whimper caught her attention.

Ishani stopped and looked around. Near the edge of the sidewalk, a small golden dog sat alone. Its fur was slightly dirty, and it looked confused by the traffic surrounding it.

Ishani's expression softened immediately. "Oh, sweetheart."

She crouched carefully. "Kya hua?"

The dog hesitated before slowly approaching her. Ishani smiled. "Good boy."

She reached out her hand, and the dog sniffed her fingers before leaning closer.

"See? I'm harmless."

The dog wagged its tail.

"Exactly."

For a few seconds, Ishani forgot everything else.

Then a horn exploded through the night.

The dog panicked and ran straight toward the road.

Ishani's heart stopped. "Hey! No!"

She dropped the pastry and ran after it. Cars rushed past, headlights flashed, and someone shouted. The dog froze in the middle of the road.

Ishani didn't think. She simply moved.

She reached the dog and pulled it toward her just as a car came to a sudden stop. The screech of brakes tore through the street, and silence followed.

Ishani held the trembling dog against her chest. "Shhh... you're okay."

Her heart was pounding as she looked down at the dog. "Pagal ho kya? Baby agar apko khuch ho jata toh ?."

Then the driver's door opened.

A man stepped out wearing a black shirt and dark trousers. His movements were controlled, but his expression was not frightened. It was irritated—very irritated.

His eyes immediately landed on Ishani.

And then he exploded.

"What the hell were you thinking?"

Ishani, still clutching the trembling dog against her chest, blinked at him. "Excuse me?"

"You ran in front of my car!"

"Yes, I noticed that. Thank you for the information."

His jaw clenched.

"Do you have any idea how close you came to getting yourself killed?"

Ishani glanced at the car, then at him. "Do you have any idea how close your car came to killing that dog?"

"Don't change the subject."

"I'm not changing the subject. I'm improving it."

His eyes turned colder.

"You think this is funny?"

"No. I think you yelling at me after I saved a life is deeply unnecessary."

"A life?" he repeated with a humourless laugh. "It's a dog."

Ishani's expression hardened.

"And you're a man. Neither of you is automatically more important just because you can speak."

For one sharp second, the street seemed to fall silent.

Rudransh stared at her.

People usually lowered their eyes when he looked at them like that.

This woman didn't.

She stood there in the middle of the road, hair dishevelled, breathing heavily, one arm wrapped protectively around the dog—and somehow still had the audacity to look at him as if he were the one who needed to be corrected.

His voice dropped, becoming more dangerous instead of louder.

"You could have died for a stray."

"Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"Yes, maybe." Ishani adjusted the dog in her arms. "But thankfully, I didn't. So unless you plan on giving me a certificate for surviving your driving, move your car."

His nostrils flared.

"You ran in front of it."

"And you were driving it."

"I slammed the brakes."

"After seeing me."

"Because you were standing in the middle of the road like you had a death wish."

Ishani gave him a slow once-over.

"With that attitude, I can understand why you think everyone wants to die after meeting you."

His glared at her.

"Watch your mouth."

"Why? Is it the only thing in your life that doesn't obey you?"

The words landed harder than they should have.

Rudransh took one step toward her.

"Do you always speak to strangers like this?"

"Only the ones who get out of their cars and start screaming at me."

"I wasn't screaming."

Ishani looked around at the people who had stopped to watch them.

"Of course not. The entire street just became quiet out of respect for your indoor voice."

His gaze flicked toward the crowd and returned to her.

"You're unbelievable."

"And you're rude."

"I've been called worse."

"I can imagine. Probably by everyone who has ever had the misfortune of meeting you."

His expression remained carved from stone.

But his eyes sharpened.

"You're very talkative for someone who nearly got herself killed."

"And you're very concerned for someone who clearly has no idea how to express it."

"Concern?" He let out a cold, disbelieving laugh. "Don't flatter yourself."

"Relax. I wasn't planning to."

The dog whimpered softly in her arms.

Ishani immediately looked down, her entire expression changing.

"Shh... bas, bas. You're okay."

Rudransh noticed the change.

A moment ago, she had been all sharp edges and sarcasm. Now her voice had softened for a frightened animal as if the rest of the world had disappeared.

His face darkened.

"Don't test my patience."

"Don't give me so much material."

He stepped closer.

"You're standing in the middle of the road, arguing with me, holding a stray dog, and acting as if you're doing the world a favour."

"I am doing this dog a favour."

"You're risking your life for an animal that doesn't even belong to you."

Ishani held his gaze.

"Not everything has to belong to you before you decide it deserves protection."

That silenced him.

Not because he agreed.

Because he hated the way the sentence struck somewhere he didn't want it to.

He masked it instantly.

"You're reckless."

"And you're arrogant."

"You're irresponsible."

"And you're insufferable."

"You could have been killed."

"And you could have said that without behaving like a traffic police officer with anger issues."

His eyes flashed.

"At least I know how to use a road."

"Congratulations. Should I arrange a parade?"

Rudransh stared at her, visibly losing patience.

"Do you ever stop?"

"Do you ever start thinking before speaking?"

His gaze dropped to the dog.

"Give it to animal control."

"No."

"That wasn't a request."

"Good, because I don't take orders from men who introduce themselves by almost running me over."

"I didn't run you over."

"Your car stopped two inches from my leg."

"Because you jumped in front of it."

"Because the dog ran into the road."

"Then let it run."

Ishani's face changed.

The sarcasm disappeared.

"Say that again."

Rudransh's expression remained cold.

"Let it run."

She stepped closer, her voice lowering.

"You're right. It is just a dog to you. But don't mistake your lack of empathy for superiority."

His eyes locked with hers.

"And don't mistake your impulsiveness for courage."

For the first time, neither of them spoke.

The city moved around them, horns blaring, people whispering, headlights cutting through the darkness.

But between them, there was only the sharp, electric silence of two strangers who had already decided they disliked each other.

Ishani finally looked away.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Mr. Khadoos"

His eyebrow lifted.

"Mr. Khadoos?"

His expression hardened.

"Don't call me that."

"Then stop behaving like one."

She turned away from him and began walking toward the sidewalk with the dog in her arms.

No apology.

No fear.

No second glance.

She had no idea who he was.

No idea how many people feared him.

No idea that men twice her age carefully measured every word before speaking to him.

All she knew was that he had yelled at her, insulted the dog in her arms, and behaved as if the entire city belonged to him.

So she refused to give him even the smallest victory.

Rudransh remained beside his car, watching her disappear into the crowd with the stray dog pressed safely against her chest.

His hands curled slowly at his sides.

He should have been angry.

He was angry.

But beneath the anger was something far more irritating—the memory of her eyes, the sharpness of her voice, and the way she had looked at him as if his name, his power, and his entire existence meant absolutely nothing.

He had spent years making people lower their voices around him.

And this girl had made him want to raise his.

Rudransh Rathore looked toward the direction in which she had vanished.

"Pagal ladki."

Then he got into his car and drove away.

Neither of them knew the other's name.

But both of them would remember that night.

Because some first meetings begin with a smile.

Theirs began with screeching brakes, a frightened dog, a furious stranger, and the first insult Ishani ever threw at Rudransh Rathore.

He didn't know her name. He didn't know where she lived. He didn't know why her voice had stayed in his head after she walked away.

Across the city, Ishani was already asleep. She had completely forgotten the stranger. To her, he had been nothing more than an irritating man with an expensive car and an attitude problem.

Nothing more.

She had no idea that their paths would cross again. She had no idea that the stranger she had dismissed tonight would eventually become impossible to escape.

And Rudransh had no idea that the girl who had walked away from him without a second thought would one day become the only person capable of disturbing the carefully controlled world he had built around himself.

Neither of them knew it yet, but tonight had not been a coincidence.

It was the first thread.

And somewhere in the darkness, the story had already begun weaving itself around them.