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Without waiting for her to respond, I grasp her wrist gently but firmly and push past her into the apartment. I lock the door behind us, my protective instincts kicking into high gear.

Simran’s body goes rigid at my proximity. I can sense her unease, and it worries me. Why is she so afraid of my presence?

“I’ll leave once we’ve discussed your security,” I assure her, softening my tone. “If that’s truly what you want.”

After what feels like an eternity, she swallows hard and nods, seemingly accepting the inevitable. She delicately extricates her hand from mine and turns to lead me toward the living room. The apartment is spacious and tastefully decorated, reflecting Simran’s impeccable style. But my focus remains singular—fixed on her as she guides me to the couch.

“Would… would you like some water?” she asks, her voice a bit too formal.

I shake my head. “No, I’m fine, thank you.”

A heavy silence settles between us. The jet lag gnaws at me, but taking rest is a luxury I can’t afford until I’m certain of her safety. My mind races back to my hasty plans—the hotel car waiting downstairs, my luggage packed for a two-week stay. I didn’t even give my father the full story, despite the looming responsibilities of my impending role as Party President. I simply informed Meher, instructing her to tell Dad that an urgent matter required my presence in New York.

But this reunion is nothing like I imagined. I thought Simran would be relieved, maybe even happy to see me. Instead, she stands at a wary distance, arms crossed protectively over her chest, looking more guarded than I ever expected.

“Sit,” I say, but she just shrugs.

“I’m fine here.”

The eye contact is missing, and I can’t shake the feeling that she’s hiding something—or someone from me. I glance around the room, but nothing seems immediately suspicious. This guarded, nervous Simran is a far cry from the woman I remember. Maybe yesterday’s events really shook her up.

“How are you feeling?” I ask, breaking the silence. “Meher told me what happened. It must have been really scary.”

Simran nods, her eyes darting away from mine. “It was... unsettling. But I’m okay now. The police have been very helpful.”

“That’s good to hear,” I say, taking a step closer. She instinctively steps back, maintaining the distance between us. The action doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Simran, what’s wrong? Why are you acting like this?”

She sighs and runs a hand through her hair. “Vishnu, I appreciate you coming all this way, I really do. But it wasn’t necessary. I have everything under control here.”

Her words ignite a spark of frustration within me. “Under control? Someone is stalking you, threatening you, and you’re saying everything is under control?”

“The police are handling it,” she insists. “They’ve increased patrols in the area and installed a direct alarm system. I’m safe.”

I clench my fists, trying to keep my rising anger in check. “And you think that’s enough? Simran, I’ve spent years protecting my father. I know how quickly these things can go wrong.”

She looks at me then, a flash of defiance in her eyes. “I don’t need your protection, Vishnu.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. “Let me be the judge of that. That’s why I’m here.”

“No,” she says firmly. “That’s why the NYPD is here. You... you should go back to India. Your father, your responsibilities—they need you more than I do. I’ve heard you are stepping into your father’s legacy now, becoming the Party President.”

I take another step closer, sensing a hint of disdain in her tone regarding my political future. But that’s not something she can dictate or even influence.

“My father has a whole security team,” I say firmly. “My duties can wait. Right now, you’re the one who needs protection, and I’m not leaving until I know you’re safe.”

As Simran shakes her head, a familiar meow suddenly interrupts our heated exchange. I look down to see Leila, Simran’s cat, padding towards us. The feline’s eyes light up with recognition as she spots me, and she immediately begins purring and rubbing against my legs, demanding my attention.

A smile tugs at my lips despite the tension in the air. I bend down, running my hand along Leila’s soft fur. “At least someone around here hasn’t changed,” I say with a smirk as I scoop Leila into my arms. I can feel Simran’s glare burning into me, knowing full well that my comment was aimed at her.

Leila snuggles into my chest, her purrs growing louder. I look up at Simran, unable to resist teasing her. “Even Leila agrees that I should be here. With you.”

I gently set Leila back on the floor. Her presence has done little to diffuse the tension. Simran’s frustration is palpable, her voice tight with barely contained anger as she continues to vent.

“You can’t just waltz back into my life and expect everything to be the same. Things are different now. I have a new life here. I can’t have you disrupting everything.”

Disrupting?Her words hit me like a cold wave. “I don’t want you here,” she says quietly, but the words carry clearly to my ears.