ENIGMA

Chaos

The room was quiet except for the soft rhythm of Advik's breathing as he sat on the edge of the bed, his hand gently brushing through Ruhani’s hair. She had fallen asleep on his lap, her head resting against his chest, the warmth of her presence grounding him in a way nothing else could. His heart ached in a way he didn’t fully understand, a deep, quiet pull toward her that went beyond control, beyond fear.

For a moment, he allowed himself to just be with her, to appreciate the soft rise and fall of her chest as she slept peacefully. His fingers moved idly through her hair, the sensation of each strand calming him. His thumb brushed lightly over her forehead, pushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Her skin was warm, and the faint scent of jasmine clung to her like a delicate promise.

She shifted slightly, her breath catching as she stirred, then looked up at him with half-closed eyes, a sleepy smile tugging at her lips.

“Adi…” she whispered, her voice soft and laced with the tenderness of the moment.

His chest tightened at the sound of his name on her lips, the way it felt like the world stood still when she said it. “Hmm?” he murmured, his voice hushed, almost reverent.

“Stay with me,” she whispered again, her eyes searching his as if looking for reassurance, something that only he could give her.

Advik felt an overwhelming sense of protectiveness flood through him, mingled with something deeper, something more vulnerable. He couldn’t let her down—not now, not ever. His hand gently cupped her cheek, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw.

“I’m not going anywhere, baby,” he promised quietly, his gaze softening. “I’m right here.”

She closed her eyes, a content sigh escaping her lips as she leaned into his touch, her hand finding its way to his, holding it tightly. “You always know how to make me feel safe,” she murmured, almost as if talking to herself.

Advik’s heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, he was lost in the feeling of her trust, the quiet intimacy between them. He knew the world around them could be chaos, full of expectations and tension, but in this moment, it was just the two of them—peaceful, protected, and connected in a way that only they understood.

Advik’s fingers froze mid-motion as Ruhani stirred slightly on his lap. His phone buzzed insistently in his hand, and he glanced down to see Vikram’s name flashing on the screen. The brief serenity of the moment evaporated, replaced by a cold, simmering tension.

He picked up the call, his voice clipped and sharp. “Vikram. What is it?”

“Sir… Inaya just went out,” Vikram said hesitantly, his tone betraying his discomfort.

Advik’s jaw clenched instantly. “Went out? Alone?”

“Yes, sir. She insisted—”

“And you let her?” Advik’s voice was low, menacing, each word deliberate.

“Sir… ma’am ordered it. She said it was fine for her to go alone.”

Advik’s grip on the phone tightened, his voice sharp enough to cut glass. “What? Mom gave you an order to ignore my instructions?”

Vikram faltered. “Sir, I—”

“Enough,” Advik cut him off coldly. “Where did she go?”

“I don’t know, sir. She didn’t say anything specific.”

Advik let out a harsh breath, his free hand tightening into a fist. “Useless,” he muttered under his breath before barking into the phone, “Stay where you are. Don’t move until I say so.”