Shadow of redemption

Boarding the flights

The busy atmosphere of   Bhopal Airport   was a blend of announcements, the shuffle of footsteps, and the general hustle of travelers. Aaravi, her face calm but her heart racing with excitement, was just about to board her flight back to Delhi. Dressed in a soft blue salwar kameez, she looked around the crowded terminal, smiling at the energy of people around her. After weeks of work at the hospital and the NGO, she was finally going home to her family. The sense of peace warmed her, and the thought of seeing her parents and Aryan made her steps lighter.

On the other side of the airport,   Rakshit  , towering and intense in his usual black attire, strode into the terminal. His presence, as always, demanded attention, though people didn’t dare to look too long. His private jet had been grounded due to clearance issues, something that had irritated him beyond measure.   Air India  , it seemed, was his only option, and he wasn’t pleased. Used to controlling his environment, sharing space with the general public was beneath him. But there he was, walking through the terminal with a cold, almost predatory gaze, every step commanding.

He had no idea that in the sea of people,   Aaravi   was not too far from him.

As he stood near the boarding gate, scanning the area with his usual sharpness, his eyes fell upon a familiar figure—  Dr. Aaravi Kapoor  .

For a moment, he hesitated, his usually composed demeanor wavering. She was standing a few feet away, completely unaware of his presence, talking on the phone, her soft laughter reaching his ears even amidst the noise. It was strange—he hadn’t expected to feel anything at the sight of her, yet there was a peculiar lightness in his chest.

Before he could turn away, Aaravi’s gaze flicked up, and their eyes met.

Her smile faltered as recognition dawned. “  Rakshit?  ”

She approached him without hesitation, her face a mixture of surprise and concern. "What are you doing here?" she asked, her eyes immediately dropping to where she knew his wound was.

"Taking a flight, obviously," he replied, his voice dripping with arrogance, though something in his tone was less biting than usual.

Aaravi shook her head slightly, her concern evident. "You shouldn’t be flying just yet. Your wound—have you been resting properly? I know you don’t listen to instructions very well." Her tone was teasing, but her worry was real.

Rakshit’s lips twitched in what could have almost been a smirk. "I don’t need your concern, doctor. I’m fine."

"You don’t look fine," she shot back, scanning his face. "Traveling alone in your condition isn’t the best idea, Rakshit."

He stiffened at her use of his name, hearing how gently it fell from her lips. It was strange. No one spoke to him like that. "I’ve survived worse."

Aaravi crossed her arms, her brow furrowing. "That doesn’t mean you should push yourself unnecessarily. You never listen, do you?"

"Why should I?" he said, his voice still tinged with arrogance, though there was a flicker of something softer in his eyes. "I'm used to doing things my way."

She sighed, her gaze softening. "That’s exactly the problem. You think you can handle everything alone, but even you need help sometimes."

Rakshit looked at her, his usual coldness wavering as he studied her face.   Why did she care?   He had met countless people in his life, most of them only interested in his power or afraid of his wrath. But here was Aaravi, this woman who spoke to him without fear, without agenda, only with... genuine concern.

"Why are you always like this?" he asked, his voice quieter, though still laced with his usual arrogance. "Always worrying about people who aren’t your responsibility?"

"Because that’s who I am," Aaravi replied, her tone gentle but firm. "And maybe someone has to worry about you, because clearly, you won’t."

Rakshit felt an unusual warmth spread through his chest, something he hadn’t felt in years. For a moment, his defenses lowered, and he allowed himself to feel that concern, that warmth she offered so freely. But as quickly as it came, he shut it down, remembering who he was.

He straightened, regaining his cold demeanor. "I don’t need your concern, Dr. Aaravi. I’ve managed without it all my life."

Aaravi simply smiled at him, unfazed by his attitude. "Well, you have it anyway."

Before he could respond, the boarding call for their flight echoed through the terminal. Aaravi glanced at her ticket, then back at him. "I guess we’re on the same flight."

Rakshit raised an eyebrow, momentarily thrown by the coincidence. "Seems so."

As she moved toward the boarding gate, Aaravi looked back at him one last time. "Just… try to be careful, okay? I don't want to see you back in the hospital."

Rakshit didn’t respond, watching as she walked away. There was something about her—the way she spoke to him, the way she looked at him. It was unsettling. It was... comforting.

For the first time in a long time,   Rakshit Phantom  , the most feared mafia boss in Asia, found himself wondering if there was more to life than the darkness he had known for so long.

With a final glance at Aaravi’s retreating figure, Rakshit followed her toward the gate, feeling a strange pull toward the woman who, without knowing it, had begun to crack the walls he had spent years building around his heart.

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