VAANI - His Deadliest Desire

CHAPTER 27

Vikram sat quietly beside Vaani, his eyes fixed on her flushed face. The faint light from the old bedside lamp cast soft shadows across her cheeks. Her breaths came out shallow and uneven, her skin warm to the touch.

He dipped the corner of a clean cloth into the bowl of cold water and wrung it gently before pressing it against her forehead. The fever wasn't going down, and he hated how helpless he felt watching her like this.

"Come on, Ms. Sharma," he murmured under his breath, brushing his thumb across her temple as if his touch could ease her pain. "You can't fall sick on me now..."

Her lashes fluttered at his voice, a soft sound escaping her lips — a half-conscious murmur that made his chest tighten. He wasn't sure if it was the exhaustion or something else, but sitting there, watching her sleep, something in him softened... dangerously so.

He leaned back against the creaky wooden headboard, running a hand through his hair, when suddenly — thud.

Vikram froze.

The faint shuffle of footsteps outside the door made his instincts flare. He turned his head slowly, eyes narrowing.

Another sound — a whisper this time. Muffled. Careful.

Without making a noise, he stood up. His body moved with silent precision, every muscle tense. He leaned closer to the door, pressing his ear against the wood. The rain outside muffled most of the sound, but a few words managed to slip through — faint, but clear enough to make his blood run cold.

"Kidnap... before morning... make it look clean... come back in two hours."

His eyes darkened instantly. The calm businessman vanished; in his place stood the man who'd seen enough of the world's ugliness to recognize danger when it knocked on the door.

He straightened slowly, jaw clenched so tight his teeth ached. His gaze darted to Vaani — still asleep, still unaware of the danger curling around them.

"Fuck," he breathed out, his hand instinctively going to his phone. No signal. He checked hers — dead.

"Perfect timing," he muttered bitterly under his breath.

For a moment, he stood still, rain pounding against the window, the air thick with tension. Then, he walked back to the bed, crouching beside her again.

Vaani, sleeping so peacefully despite the fever that had left her cheeks flushed.

His hand brushed her hair away from her face, his thumb lingering against her cheek — a silent promise of protection.

For a fleeting second, his heart softened — but the sound of thunder outside snapped him back to reality.

They had to leave. Now.

Vikram crouched beside her, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. "Ms. Sharma..." he whispered softly, his voice low but urgent.

She didn't stir, just shifted slightly, mumbling something incoherent. He sighed, his hand cupping her cheek briefly — just enough to feel the warmth of her fever.

"Wake up, Ms. Sharma," he murmured again, this time a bit firmer. "We're not safe here."

When she groaned faintly, he bent closer, whispering near her ear, "Someone's planning something here. You need to trust me, okay?"

Her brows knitted, half-awake, confusion lacing her features. "Huh?"

"I will explain later," he said softly, slipping an arm behind her shoulders. "We're getting out of here. Quietly."

The protective edge in his tone made her look at him properly this time — eyes still heavy, but there was something in his face she hadn't seen before. Steel. Fear for her. And... care.

He took her hand gently but firmly, helping her up, wrapping his coat tighter around her shoulders.

Outside, the rain had turned merciless. The faint glimmer of headlights flickered in the distance — probably the men from before.

Vikram glanced once at her, then at the window. "We'll go out the back," he whispered. "Stay close to me, no matter what happens."

And as they slipped into the stormy night, her fingers tightened around his — trembling, yes, but not out of fear. It was trust.

.
.

They moved like shadows through the narrow corridor of the lodge, the dim bulbs flickering above them. Vikram's hand stayed firm around Vaani's wrist, his eyes scanning every corner until they reached the reception area.

He was just about to step forward when his gaze froze.

Through the half-open door, he saw his driver — the same man who had been with him for years — standing beside the receptionist. A thick envelope passed between their hands.

"You'll get the rest once the job's finished," the receptionist muttered, his tone low but cold enough to cut through the rain-soaked silence.

"Fucking bastard" Vikram's jaw tightened. Rage surged through his veins like wildfire.

The driver mumbled something and tucked the envelope into his jacket.

Vikram's fists clenched; his steps instinctively moved forward — ready to tear both men apart. But before he could take another step, a trembling hand gripped his arm.

"No..." Vaani's voice was barely above a whisper, her eyes glassy yet steady. "N-not now."

He looked down at her — drenched, pale, still burning with fever, but stronger than ever in that moment. Her grip was weak, yet her words anchored him.

He swallowed his fury and nodded once, exhaling through his nose as he pulled her close.

Outside, the storm raged violently, the rain coming down in relentless sheets. The world was dark, broken only by flashes of lightning that lit the muddy path ahead.

"We can't go through the front," Vikram said, scanning the surroundings. "They'll expect that."

She followed his gaze, spotting the narrow path behind the building — overgrown with wild grass leading straight into a thick stretch of trees.

"The jungle?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"It's the only way," he replied, glancing back once toward the lodge. "We'll find a village, a highway, something. Hopefully."

As another roar of thunder cracked the sky, Vaani stumbled slightly — her strength fading fast. Without a second thought, Vikram bent down and scooped her into his arms, her body feather-light against his chest.

"You don't have to—" she gasped, startled, clutching his shirt weakly.

"Don't worry, I won't let you fall," he said, his voice quiet, not laced with of amusement but with a promise, that cut through the sound of the rain.

She stared up at him, rain dripping from her lashes, her lips parted in disbelief. He could've just left her — saved himself. She hated herself for being sick at the wrong time. She was technically a burden on him right now, and yet here he was, trying to save them both.

His steps were careful but quick as he trudged through the mud, every drop of rain hitting like shards of ice. Her head rested weakly against his chest, her breathing uneven.

For the first time in years, Vikram looked up at the dark, endless sky. He hadn't prayed since the night he'd lost everything — his parents, his peace, his faith. But tonight... something in him broke open.

"Help me keep her safe," he whispered, his voice almost lost to the storm. "Just her... please."

And with that, he pressed her closer, turning his back on the faint glow of the lodge behind them and running deeper into the forest — into the unknown.