Page 116 of Cherish my Heart

Aditi’s on the ground. Her face turned away, hair a mess, the edge of her phone lying crooked beside her as if it hadfallen during the call. Her hand twitches. Barely. Her body is motionless otherwise.

And right next to her—

“Harsh,” I whisper.

He’s there too. Sprawled beside her. Blood on the floor near his temple.

No.

No, no, no.

I grip the edge of the car door to steady myself, but my knees feel weak, like the ground beneath me has tilted.

My heartbeat is a roar in my ears. Every breath feels like inhaling fire. I want to scream. I want to punch something. I want toburn the fucking city down.

And then the screen goes black.

A moment later, a message appears.

Unknown Number:

If you want them alive, come alone. No tricks. This ends where it all began.

An address follows. One I know too well.

My grip on the phone tightens until it hurts. I don’t even feel it.

My mind is a cyclone of fury and dread and desperation. I can’t sit still. I pace the length of the room, my breath ragged, hands shaking. I want to throw something. Scream.

How did they get to her again?

I promised myself the last time wasthelast time. That I’d built enough walls around her. That I’d burned enough bridges and cut enough threats to keep her safe. But I was wrong.

And now they’re hurt. Both of them.

The two people I love more than my own fucking life.

The two people who taught me what it means to live again.

I press the heel of my palm into my forehead, trying to force the image out of my head—Aditi’s limp body, Harsh’s bloodied face.

It won’t leave.

It brands itself into my memory, cruel and vivid and permanent.

“Come alone.” That’s what the message said.

As if I’d come with an army and risk them.

As if I need an army when I’m this pissed.

I look at the address again; my jaw clenches so tight it aches.

I need to get there.Now.I don’t want to drive. I don’t want to wait for red lights or traffic or guards to prepare. I want to teleport. I want to close my eyes and be standing in front of her. I want to see her chest rising and falling. I want to hear her voice call me a jerk and tell me I worry too much. I want to shake Harsh awake and tell him this better not be his idea of a joke. But more than anything—I want tokillwhoever touched her—touched them. The man I shot five minutes ago? He got offeasy.Because this time, I’m not stopping. Not until every single person responsible is nothing more than a memory.

And even then, I won’t rest until she’s safe.

Forever.