Page 110 of Entangled Vows

No. He slammed the thought down right then and there. He wasn’t going to let fear take control. Not when she needed him. Not while he was still breathing. Every second stretched like an eternity, and he promised himself that from now on, she would always be protected.

Yes. He would make sure she was safe. Always. Forever.

This was what it felt like falling in lo—

No. Fuck. No.

He pushed the thought aside before it could take shape and clenched the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. His jaw was locked so tight it ached. Whatever was stirring inside him, he refused to give it a name. He shoved it down and focused on what mattered. Getting to her. Right now.

“Please be okay, Momo,” he muttered under his breath. “Please... just be fucking okay.”

The GPS chimed from the dashboard.

Your destination is at 400 metres... 200 metres...

And then his anger shot through the roof as the sight in front of him made his blood boil. Mahika’s car sat lifeless on the road, hazard lights blinking weakly like a dying pulse.

Surrounding the vehicle were six bulky men who were laughing and leering at her. One of them was peeking into herwindow, while the other yanked hard at the door handle, trying to rip it open. And the third one dragged a knife slowly across the glass like it was a game. The others stood back, grinning, feeding off each other’s filth.

Something inside Vikram snapped, and he sawred. It was the kind of anger that burned and detonated through every fibre of his being. He slammed the brakes, and the car screeched to a halt, tires screaming, gravel exploding under the sudden stop. The door flew open, and he was out before the car had even fully stopped. He charged forward like he was a human weapon and a goddamn storm rolled into one.

“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER!” he roared, his voice cutting through the night.

One of the bastards turned, startled. “Who the hell—”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence as Vikram’s fist connected with the man’s jaw with such force that he flew back and crashed into the gravel like a rag doll. The second one lunged forward, swinging blindly, but Vikram caught him mid-motion and smashed him face-first onto the burning metal of Mahika’s bonnet. The sickening crack of bone meeting the metal echoed in the dark.

“How dare you evenlookat my wife, you fucking animal! You get off on scaring women?” Vikram growled in a voice that was both icy and lethal.

His knee slammed into the man’s groin, knocking the air out of him, and then a brutal punch landed square on his ribs.

“You enjoyed scaringmywife, huh?” Vikram snarled, punching again. “You want to know what real fear feels like?”

Suddenly, the others grabbed Vikram, trying to punch him, but he roared again, shaking them off like a beast unleashed. One of them managed a wild swing at Vikram’s face, but he ducked expertly. He then turned and spotted a woodenlog near the roadside. In one smooth motion, he grabbed it and swung hard. It cracked against the bastard’s head and landed on the road.

The man fell back, his eyes wide with terror.

“I am going to kill you all,” Vikram snarled. His voice was calm, cold, and burning with fury.

That was all it took. They ran for their lives, but Vikram wasn’t done. He chased after them like a predator and pounced on the slowest one, tackling him into the dirt. His body moved on pure instinct. He no longer heard anything. He no longer thought. All he could see was Mahika in that car. Alone and scared.

That thought fuelled every blow that came after. His knuckles were cracked, and his breathing was ragged and feral. Another man tried to crawl away from him, his face smashed, whimpering like a wounded animal, but Vikram was in no mood to spare them. He grabbed him by the collar and dragged him across the dirt like dead weight.

“Please. Let me go,” the man begged, his voice shaking, and his mouth filled with blood and spit.

Vikram didn’t listen. He slapped the man hard across the face. “You picked the wrong car, and the wrong woman, asshole.” He stared the man down, his eyes blazing with fury. “Fucking look at me. Remember this face. If you so much as breathe near her again, I’ll make sure you never take another breath.”

He stepped closer, crouching near the other man on the ground, his voice razor sharp, “Dare to mess with my wife again and see what happens to your life.”

Then he drove his elbow into the man’s gut, followed by a crushing punch to his face. Pain shot through Vikram’s own hand and wrist, but it only pushed him to hit harder. His ragehad turned into fuel, powering every blow. He didn’t even notice the chaos around him until piercing sirens cut through the night.

Even then, he didn’t stop. Several police officers rushed forward and wrenched him back, prying his fist off the man’s collar. His knuckles were bloodied, and his eyes wild with fury.

“Step back!” one officer barked.

Vikram’s chest heaved with every uneven breath. His blazer lay discarded on the ground, soaked and trampled. His shirt was untucked, several buttons were ripped open, and his tie hung loosely around his neck. Blood streaked his face and jaw. His hands were worse—knuckles split open, skin torn, the cuts fresh and raw. He looked like a man who had walked through war.

“They attacked my wife,” he said through gritted teeth, nodding towards the car. “You’d better take every single one of them in tonight.”