Shadow of redemption

Friendship

Hello everyone welcome to new chapter ☺️☺️☺️

Later, back at his mansion in Mumbai, Rakshit stood under the shower, water streaming down, trying to wash away the frustration. But it clung to him, relentless. He dried off, went to his study, and opened his laptop. With expert precision, he hacked into the surveillance cameras of   Hope Hospital   in Delhi. As the live feed appeared, his eyes softened. There she was—Aaravi, surrounded by patients, moving with grace and care. Watching her brought him the peace he craved, something he hadn’t felt since he left her.

His phone buzzed. A simple text appeared on the screen:   "How are you? Have you reached Mumbai? Take care of yourself."   It was from Aaravi. Just those few words eased the storm raging inside him. His heart, once hardened by the life he led, softened in that moment, filled with a longing he couldn’t fully understand but was starting to crave more than power itself.

Rakshit sat back, gazing at the text, realizing that no amount of violence, control, or dominance could bring him the peace this one person—his queen—could offer.
Rakshit stared at Aaravi's message for a moment, the tension still tightening his chest. He had been consumed with frustration all day, but her calm demeanor—just a few words—brought him some relief. After a long pause, he typed back:

"I reached Mumbai, Dr. Aaravi. Everything is fine here. Please inform me about my men’s condition and when they can be discharged."

His tone remained cold, distant, yet there was a softness in his words that only someone who truly understood him—someone like Aaravi—could detect. Beneath the arrogance was pain, confusion, and something else he couldn't yet name.

In Delhi, Aaravi was sitting in her cabin, her fingers gently tapping the desk as she thought about him. Her phone buzzed, and she smiled faintly as she read his message. She could sense the conflict in his words, his attempt to maintain his cold façade. Without missing a beat, she replied:

  "Everything is fine. Your men will be discharged in 1-2 days. There’s no need to worry. Also, have you had lunch yet?"   She paused, then added,   "And by the way, I’m your friend now, so there’s no need for formal titles like 'Dr. Aaravi.' Just call me Aaravi." 

Rakshit’s eyes lingered on her message. The idea of friendship was foreign to him—his life didn’t leave room for such simplicity. Still, he typed back, his tone still cold but slightly less rigid:   "I haven’t had lunch. No appetite." 

Aaravi’s warm response came almost instantly:   "You should eat something, Rakshit. Take care of yourself. Even if you don't feel hungry, your body needs the energy."   She tried to keep the conversation light, injecting warmth into every word.

Rakshit leaned back in his chair, staring at her message. He had been used to giving orders and controlling everything around him, but with Aaravi, things felt... different. He typed slowly, almost hesitantly:

  "I’ll eat later. It’s just... hard to focus on things like food right now." 

Aaravi smiled as she read the message, sensing the vulnerability behind his cold words. She responded with a light, teasing tone, trying to make him feel at ease:   "Well, I’ll hold you to it. Make sure you eat something soon, or I’ll have to come to Mumbai and scold you myself." 

There was a pause before Rakshit’s next message came through:   "I’ll keep that in mind. Don’t worry about me."   Despite his distant tone, something had shifted in him. Her warmth, her calm presence was beginning to slip through the cracks in his armor.

For the first time in a long while, Rakshit felt something other than the weight of his dark world. Talking to Aaravi was like finding a small piece of peace amidst chaos. But even with these small moments of softness, his Mafia king personality stayed intact, cold and detached. Yet, every time he thought of her—his queen—something in him changed, even if just a little.

Aaravi, sitting in her cabin, sensed this change. She didn’t need him to say much; she could feel the shift in their conversations. And while Rakshit might be the king of a world drenched in darkness, Aaravi was becoming the quiet light he couldn’t ignore.

After this day, Rakshit’s days were still filled with the cold, ruthless decisions that made him the feared Mafia king he was. His empire demanded his brutality, his sharp mind, and a heart hardened by years of violence. But his nights had started to take on a new rhythm—one that he hadn’t anticipated. It wasn’t dramatic, but for someone like Rakshit, even small changes felt monumental.

Every night now, Rakshit would wait. He didn’t allow himself to acknowledge it openly, but deep down, he found himself looking forward to his conversations with Aaravi. She was the only one who didn’t see the darkness in him, or if she did, she wasn’t afraid. And that intrigued him.

One evening, as he sat in his dimly lit study, his phone buzzed. It was exactly the time Aaravi usually messaged, like clockwork.

  Aaravi:   "Good evening, Rakshit. How was your day? Did you manage to eat on time today, or do I need to scold you again?"

A faint smile tugged at the corner of Rakshit’s lips as he read her message. Despite the roughness of his day, there was something soothing in her lighthearted scolding. He typed back:

  Rakshit:   "I ate, Aaravi. No need for the lecture tonight." He added, after a pause, "And you? How many lives did you save today?"

Aaravi was sitting in her small office at the hospital, exhausted but still smiling at his message. She replied:

  Aaravi:   "Just a few today, nothing too dramatic. It was a long day though. But here we are, at least I get to end it talking to you."

Rakshit stared at her message, feeling a strange warmth from her words. She made it sound so natural, like he was a normal part of her life. His fingers hovered over the keyboard before he typed, his tone as blunt as ever:

  Rakshit:   "I’m not used to being a part of someone’s routine."

Aaravi sensed the weight behind his words. She knew Rakshit didn’t have the kind of relationships most people did. She took a breath, then typed back:

  Aaravi:   "Well, get used to it, because I’m not going anywhere. You are my friend. And friends check in on each other."

He didn’t know why, but her words softened something in him. No one had spoken to him like that before—without fear, without judgment, just with genuine care. His reply came slower this time:

  Rakshit:   "You care too much, Aaravi. You shouldn’t get too close."

Aaravi read his message and smiled softly. She knew this was his way of protecting her, but she wasn’t the type to back away. She replied confidently:

  Aaravi:   "Too late. I’m already here, Rakshit. Besides, you care too, even if you don’t admit it."

Rakshit’s heart clenched at that. She saw right through him, even though he barely admitted it to himself. He had changed, more than he liked to admit. He was no longer just the cold, ruthless king at night. He had become... a friend. A protective, possessive friend, yes, but still, it was a different side of him.

He typed back:

  Rakshit:   "You’re too stubborn for your own good."

Aaravi laughed when she read it, imagining his frustrated tone. She leaned back in her chair, feeling closer to him with each passing day.

  Aaravi:   "You love it. Admit it."

There was a long pause before Rakshit’s next message arrived, the coolness of his tone still there, but the warmth peeking through:

  Rakshit:   "Maybe."

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