only HIS

Chapter 22 : Unyielding Fury, Unspoken Care

**Abhishek's pov**

Abhishek's arms caught Sofia just as her knees buckled. She was in the process of collapsing, her body suddenly heavy and limp, her pale skin turning alarmingly ashen under the club's dim lights. His heart lurched into panic mode. "Sofia?" His voice was low, urgent, but there was no response.

"Sofia!" he repeated, gently shaking her shoulders. She barely stirred, her eyelids fluttering as if caught in a strange limbo. Abhishek's pulse quickened, fear prickling the back of his neck.

His hands cupped her cheeks, forcing her to focus. "Sofia, can you hear me?"

After what felt like an eternity, she finally mumbled something incomprehensible. A sigh of relief passed through him, but it was short-lived. He needed answers. Fast.

"How many drinks did you have?" he asked, keeping his voice steady despite the surge of concern that was bubbling beneath the surface.

Sofia blinked, her gaze unfocused, and slurred, "One... and, uh... mocktail..." Her words trailed off as her head lolled against his chest.

Mocktail? That didn't add up. His eyes narrowed as he tried to piece it together. Sofia wouldn't be this incoherent after just one drinks and a mocktail. Then, realization struck him like a fist to the gut. His entire body went rigid as the cold, hard truth dawned on him. Someone had spiked her drink.

"Who made your drink?" Abhishek's voice was edged with danger now. His green eyes burned with fury as he leaned closer, demanding her attention.

Sofia lifted her hand, sluggishly pointing toward the bar. Her finger barely held steady, but it was enough. Abhishek followed her line of sight, his gaze zeroing in on the bartender, an unassuming man in a black shirt. The pieces clicked into place. Rage poured through his veins like molten fire.

For a brief moment, Abhishek couldn't move, frozen by the sheer force of his rage. Then something snapped inside him. His protective instincts, his hatred for anyone who dared harm a woman—especially Sofia—took over. Without another word, he gently guided Sofia to a nearby corner.

"Yesha, Vaishnavi ," Abhishek barked, his voice slicing through the music like a knife. They immediately came over, eyes widening as they took in Sofia's state.

"Hold her," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. Vaishnavi and Yesha exchanged worried glances but did as they were told. Abhishek's gaze darkened as he turned back to the bartender, who was casually wiping glasses, oblivious to the storm heading his way.

Abhishek didn't walk; he stormed, a predator stalking his prey. With each step, his muscles tensed, his fists clenching at his sides. By the time he reached the bar, there was no hesitation. Without warning, he vaulted over the counter, landing beside the bartender. The man barely had time to react before Abhishek grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the shelves with a force that rattled the glasses above.

"What the hell—" the bartender stammered, fear creeping into his eyes.

"How dare you drug her drink?" Abhishek's voice was deadly quiet, and that made it all the more terrifying. The bartender's face drained of color, his eyes wide with terror.

"I—I didn't—"

The lie barely left his mouth before Abhishek's fist connected with his face. The punch was savage, and the crack of bone was unmistakable. The bartender yelped in pain, his nose now crooked and gushing blood. But Abhishek wasn't done. Far from it.

"You think you can get away with this?" Abhishek growled, his voice laced with venom. He landed another punch, this time to the man's ribs, making him double over in agony. "You think you can drug a woman in my club?"