The afternoon sun dipped low in the sky, casting long shadows across the streets as Mehek busied herself in the kitchen. The soft sound of chopping vegetables filled the air when suddenly, the sharp ring of the doorbell cut through her concentration. She wiped her hands on a kitchen towel and walked to the door, curiosity piqued.
When she opened it, she found Arman and Kartikeya standing there, their expressions grave. "Mehek, we need your help," Arman said, his voice tense.
"What happened?" she asked, her heart racing. "Is everything okay?"
"No, it's Vikram," Kartikeya replied, glancing over his shoulder as if expecting more bad news. "He had an accident. He's hurt really badly. We brought him home."
Mehek's breath caught in her throat. "What? Is he...?" She couldn't finish the question, fear flooding her senses.
"Just come quickly," Arman urged, stepping inside and leading her toward the living room.
When they entered, Mehek's heart sank. Vikram lay on the couch, his face pale and his forehead glistening with sweat. A deep gash marred his arm, and his breathing was shallow. The sight of him like this sent a wave of panic through her.
"Vikram!" she exclaimed, rushing to his side. "What happened?"
"Car accident," Arman said, kneeling beside her. "He was driving too fast and lost control. He needs medical attention."
Kartikeya began to examine Vikram's wounds, applying pressure to stop the bleeding. "We need to clean this up and bandage it. Mehek, can you get some first aid supplies?"
Mehek nodded, her hands trembling as she rushed to gather what they needed. As she returned, she found Arman and Kartikeya working together to stabilize Vikram. She felt a mix of worry and determination.
"Vikram, can you hear me?" Mehek asked softly, trying to catch his attention. His eyelids fluttered, and he blinked at her, his eyes filled with pain but also recognition.
"Mehek..." he whispered, his voice barely audible.
"I'm here," she replied, kneeling beside him. "Just hang in there. We're going to take care of you."
"Please... don't worry," he murmured, attempting a smile that quickly turned into a grimace. "I'll be okay."
"Of course you will," Mehek insisted, her voice firm as she began to clean his wound gently. "You're going to be fine. Just breathe."
As she worked, she couldn't help but notice how vulnerable he looked. The walls she had built around herself began to crack, letting through a sliver of concern she thought she had buried deep inside.
"Mehek, I'll need you to keep an eye on him tonight," Arman said as he finished wrapping Vikram's arm. "He might wake up confused, and he'll need someone here."
Mehek hesitated, looking back at Vikram, whose eyes were starting to close again. "Are you sure? I mean, I don't know if I can..."
"Just do your best," Kartikeya encouraged, giving her a reassuring nod. "You know him better than we do."
With a sigh, she nodded. "Okay. I'll take care of him."
Arman and Kartikeya exchanged relieved looks before standing up. "We'll check in later," Arman said. "Just call us if you need anything."
Once they left, Mehek turned back to Vikram, who was now resting but looked so vulnerable. She sat on the edge of the couch, her heart heavy with conflicting emotions.
"Why did you have to drive so recklessly?" she murmured, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead. "You could have seriously hurt yourself... or worse."
He stirred slightly, his eyes fluttering open. "Because... I thought... if I could get to you... faster," he whispered, a faint smile playing on his lips.
The words struck her hard, and she looked down, feeling the warmth of a blush creeping onto her cheeks. "You shouldn't have done that," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady. "You can't just risk everything because of me."
"I'd do anything for you, Mehek," he said softly, his gaze unwavering. "You might not believe it, but I do care."
Mehek swallowed hard, a mix of emotions swirling inside her. She wanted to push him away, to remind him of the walls she had built, but his words lingered in the air, softening her resolve.
As she continued to watch over him, the night wore on, filled with the quiet sounds of his breathing and her own racing heart. Slowly, in the dim light of the room, she began to realize that maybe, just maybe, caring for him didn't feel as wrong as she had thought.
YOU ARE READING
The Mafia heart ( book 1 )
RomanceVikram Singh Rathore - was a man of power and influence in the criminal underworld. He was known for his ruthlessness and cunning tactics that had helped him rise to the top of the mafia hierarchy. With his sharp mind and fearless demeanor, he had e...
