Chapter 21 | Serene in his clutch

In your love, I wish to lose myself completely..

Or, I yearn to dwell in the shadow of your love

May these moments not slip through my fingers

Without you, time stands still in my heart"

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I was fast asleep, exhausted from a long day at the hospital, when my phone suddenly jolted me awake. I groggily reached for it, seeing Dr. Rishi's name flashing on the screen. I hesitated for a moment, thinking it could wait until morning, but the persistent ringing made me pick up.

"Rose, there's an emergency," Dr. Rishi's urgent voice said. "We need to perform surgery on Mihir immediately. He's in a lot of pain, and we can't delay."

My sleepiness vanished in an instant. I sprang out of bed, my heart racing with concern. I quickly got dressed and rushed out the door, driving as fast as I could to the hospital.

As I sped through the deserted streets, my mind was filled with thoughts of Mihir's condition. What happened? How critical was his situation? I couldn't shake off the feeling of worry, my heart was heavy with concern.

I finally arrived at the hospital, my tires screeching as I pulled into the parking lot. I rushed out of the car, sprinting towards the emergency ward. I had to get to Mihir, and had to help him.

As I pushed open the doors to the operation theater, I saw Mr. Raghuvendra Singh standing outside, his face a mask of calmness. But his eyes, oh his eyes, told a different story. They were pools of deep concern, of fear, of desperation. I could see the weight of his worry, the burden of potentially losing someone precious to him.

I knew Mihir was his son, and the thought of anything happening to him must be unbearable for Mr. Singh. I wanted to reassure him, to comfort him.

"Mr. Singh, please don't worry," I said, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "We have the best team operating on Mihir. We'll take care of him, I promise."

He didn't say a word, but his eyes spoke volumes. They seemed to bore into my soul, searching for any glimmer of hope. I held his gaze, trying to convey my confidence, my determination to save Mihir.

Then, with a deep breath, I turned and pushed open the doors to the operation theater. The bright lights and antiseptic smell enveloped me, and I focused on the task at hand. Mihir's life was in my hands, and I was ready to do everything to save him.

As I emerged from the operation theater, I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief and joy. The 3-hour operation had been a success, and Mihir was finally free from his suffering. I made my way to Mr. Raghuvendra Singh, who was still standing in the same spot, his expression unreadable.

"Mr. Singh, the operation was a success," I said, trying to sound cheerful. "Mihir is going to be just fine."

He didn't respond, didn't even flinch. It was as if he was in a daze, overwhelmed by the emotions he had been holding back. I understood his situation, so I tried to lighten the mood.

"I welcomed you to the hospital, and you didn't even thank me," I joked, trying to get a smile out of him.

He still didn't respond, but I could see a hint of a smile playing on his lips. I continued to tease him, trying to bring him out of his shell.

"Your mind is saying 'thank you', I already heard it," I said, playfully.

Finally, a small smile crept onto his face. "Nothing to worry about, everything is fine," I reassured him.

He began to talk to me in a playful manner, and I was relieved to see him coming out of his shell. "Thanks, Doctor," he said, but I waved it off.

"No need to thank me, Mr. Singh. It's my responsibility."

He smiled and said, "I know you just want to light up my mood."

I grinned and said, "Now the arrogant, egoistic Mr. Raghuvendra Singh is understanding my situation. That's impressive."

He nodded, but then his expression changed. "I'm not that arrogant and egoistic," he protested.

I just laughed and said, "Okay, not that much, but still, you are." And with that, I left him standing there, smiling to himself.

I walked towards my cabin, feeling a sense of relief after the successful operation. Just as I reached the door, Rishi caught up with me.

"Congratulations, Rose!" he said, beaming with a warm smile. "You did an amazing job there."

"Thanks, Rishi," I replied, feeling grateful for his kind words.

"Now, go home and rest," he said, his expression turning serious. "You've been on your feet for hours. You need to recharge."

I shook my head. "I can't, Rishi. What if an emergency comes up? I need to be available."

Rishi placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "I've got this, Rose. I'm in command tonight. We've got everything under control. You've earned a break."

I hesitated, but Rishi's calm demeanor put me at ease.

"Go home, rest for at least an hour, and come back in the morning with a fresh mood and bright smile," he said, his eyes twinkling.

I couldn't resist his persuasive tone. "Okay, fine," I agreed, smiling.

Rishi grinned. "That's an order, Doctor. Get some rest."

.

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.

.

.

.

I couldn't help but smile as I thought about Mihir's progress. Two days post-surgery, and he was doing remarkably well. Aarohi had assured me that his mental health was also improving, thanks to his father's constant presence. I chuckled to myself, thinking about how Mr. Raghuvendra Singh had finally come around. My scolding and backfiring had done some good, it seemed!

But my amusement was short-lived, as the hospital's emergency alarm blared to life. A bus accident had brought in a flurry of patients, most of whom were mentally shaken. Rishi, Aarohi, Naina, and I were put on special charge, and I hadn't even had a chance to grab a bite to eat this morning.

As I rushed from one patient to another, my friends begged me to take a break and eat something. Even Rishi joined in, but I was too stubborn to listen. My work was my top priority, and I couldn't let my patients down.

It was noon now, and I was still going strong, despite my growling stomach. I knew I had to keep pushing forward, no matter what. The patients needed me, and I couldn't let them down.

Just as I was finishing up with a patient, Rishi approached me, looking concerned. "Rose, you need to eat something. You're going to collapse if you don't."

I waved him off, smiling wryly. "Later, Rishi. I promise."

He sighed and shook his head, but I knew he understood. We were in this together, and we would get through it as a team.

With a nod, I turned to leave, feeling grateful for Rishi's understanding and support. As I walked out of the hospital, the cool night air enveloped me, refreshing my tired senses. Maybe, just maybe, I could finally unwind..

I trudged into my cabin, exhausted and hungry, but suddenly, my fatigue took precedence. I didn't feel like eating; all I wanted was to rest. Locking the door behind me, I turned to collapse onto my couch, but my gaze met an unexpected obstacle.

Mr. Aahan Singh Randhawa sat in my chair, radiating an aura of power and authority, his eyes blazing with anger. I froze, unsure how he'd entered my cabin or what had triggered his ire. His dark ocean eyes had transformed into a deep, blood-red hue, making my heart skip a beat.

For a moment, I was lost in his gaze, admiring the intensity that made him look even more handsome. His cocoa-brown suit seemed to melt away, replaced by an imaginary red hue that made my heart flutter. I mentally chastised myself, shaking off the distracting thought.

Gathering my confidence, I asked, trying to keep my voice steady, "What are you doing here? How did you get in?"

His deep voice sent shivers down my spine. "Why can't I come here?" he countered, his tone laced with nostalgia. "This hospital is almost mine, after all. I'm a major trustee."

His words hung in the air, reminding me of his influence and power. I felt a shiver run down my spine as he continued to glare at me, his fists clenched.

"What do you want, Mr. Randhawa ?" I pressed, trying to keep my composure.

The tension between us was palpable, and I couldn't help but wonder what had sparked his anger. Was it something I'd done? Or was it something more?

I stood there, frozen, as Mr. Randhawa's gaze pierced through me. He finally spoke, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine. "Come here."

I hesitated, unsure of what he wanted, but he simply repeated, "Come here."

I didn't want to anger him further, so I cautiously approached him. As I drew closer, he pulled me into his lap, catching me off guard. I struggled to move, to utter a word, but his grip around my waist tightened.

I composed myself and tried to wriggle free, but his hold was unyielding. His hands began to roam my body, sending sensual shivers down my spine. He brought his face closer, his warm breath on my shoulder, and nibbled on my earlobe.

"Stop moving," he whispered, his voice low and husky. "If you move again, something will awaken that you shouldn't. You can't handle it."

I had no idea what he was talking about, but his words sent a flush through my body. I became a deep red, my heart racing, as I realized the implication.

I stopped struggling, my muscles tense, as I tried to process what was happening. Mr. Randhawa's grip relaxed slightly, but his hands remained possessively around me.

"Be a good girl," he whispered, his breath tickling my ear. "Keep still and relax."

I was torn between fear and curiosity, unsure of what to do next. But for now, I remained frozen, my heart pounding in my chest.

I trembled beneath Mr. Randhawa's touch, his hands tracing gentle patterns on my body. His face nestled in the crook of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. I felt captivated, yet strangely calm.

He cupped my cheeks with his rough, yet gentle hands, and whispered, "Why haven't you eaten anything since morning? You need to take care of yourself. Don't you know how important you are?"

His deep, soft voice wrapped around me like a warm blanket. I struggled to respond, my mind reeling with questions. How did he know I hadn't eaten? What did he mean by "important"?

My voice was barely above a whisper, I asked, "How did you know...I didn't eat?"

Mr. Randhawa's eyes fluttered open, his gaze locking onto mine. "I have my ways," he whispered, his lips curling into a gentle smile. "You're under my care now, Doctor. Your well-being is my responsibility."

Mr. Randhawa's response was indistinct, his lips brushing against my ear. I didn't catch the words, but the vibrations of his voice soothed me. His answer seemed manipulative, designed to pacify me.

I shouldn't have been convinced, but his gentle touch and soothing voice calmed my doubts. My mind wandered, focusing on the sensation of his skin against mine.

Then suddenly, His words fluttered through my chest. Under his care? Responsibility? The phrases sounded possessive, yet strangely comforting.

"I was worried about you," he continued, his voice weaving a spell around me. "You've been working tirelessly, putting others before yourself. Someone needs to look out for you."

His words struck a chord within me. I felt seen, cared for.

As I gazed into his eyes, I felt my doubts fade. His explanation was vague, but his sincerity seemed genuine.

"Eat something," he whispered, his breath dancing across my skin. "For me."

His words snapped me back to reality, but I couldn't resist the gentle command. I nodded, still entranced by his touch.

I paused, still lost in Mr. Randhawa's gaze. "But how can I eat? There's no food here," I said, stating the obvious.

He chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he took in my flushed face. "There's nothing I'm not capable of doing," he said, his voice dripping with confidence.

With a wave of his hand, he revealed a table laden with my favorite dishes: biryani, chicken masala, roti, salad, and my favorite drink, shake, accompanied by a decadent dessert. I was awestruck.

How did I miss this? I scolded myself, realizing I'd been so entranced by Mr. Randhawa's touch that I hadn't even noticed the spread before me.

"How...?" I trailed off, curiosity getting the better of me.

Mr. Randhawa simply smiled and said, "I told you."

I diverted my gaze from him to the feast, my eyes sparkling with delight. I reached for a spoon, but he stopped me.

Confused, I looked up at him, my brow furrowed. "Why can't I...?"

He didn't respond, instead picking up a spoon and scooping up a bite of biryani. He brought it to my lips, his eyes locked on mine.

"Eat," he whispered, his voice low and husky.

I hesitated, unsure of this strange intimacy. But he was stubborn, refusing to let me protest.

Tentatively, I took a bite from his spoon. The flavors danced on my tongue as I chewed, my eyes never leaving his.

As I ate from his hand, he admired me, his gaze softening. "How was your day?" he asked, his voice gentle.

"It was hectic," I began, sharing stories of the hospital's chaos.

Mr. Randhawa listened intently, his eyes sparkling with amusement. With each bite, I felt my tension melt away, replaced by a sense of comfort and connection.

This was surreal, yet strangely comforting. I couldn't help but wonder what other surprises Mr. Randhawa was in store for me.

I sprang up from Mr. Randhawa's lap, my face ablaze with embarrassment. How had I not noticed I was still sitting on his lap? Sister Maya's knock on the cabin door broke the spell, shattering the intimate moment.

"Doctor, emergency!" Maya exclaimed, her voice urgent. "A boy is refusing to take his medicine and asks for you."

I hastened to open the door, my mind racing. "Which boy?" I asked, my thoughts were already racing to the hospital's patients.

"The one from the brain surgery case, Mihir," Maya replied, her expression worried.

My heart skipped a beat. Mihir, the young boy I'd operated on just days ago. I rushed out, Mr. Randhawa's voice called after me.

"Drink your shake, sweetheart" he said, his deep voice gentle.

But I couldn't worry about that now; Mihir needed me. I hurried down the corridor, my footsteps swift.

As I approached Mihir's room, I saw Aarohi standing outside, looking frazzled. "What's wrong?" I asked, concerns etched on my face.

"Mihir's being stubborn," Aarohi said, her voice trembling. "He refuses to take his medicine.

His father should be here, taking care of him. I thought.

I asked her where his father is, he has to be available here for him. Oh God. Fucking idiot Mr Singh. Mr. Raghuvendra Singh's presence would indeed calm Mihir.

I tried to Ask her but her gaze is fixing somewhere with her jaw dropping situation, not only her but all the staff are looking at particular place. They all are giggling and whispering something with smile.

I followed Aarohi's gaze and noticed the nurses and compounders giggling, their eyes fixed on something behind me. Their snickers and whispers filled the air.

Curiosity got the better of me. "Aarohi, what's-"

But she just shook her head, her smile shy and knowing. Her eyes sparkled with amusement.

I turned around, and my heart sank. Oh fucking god.

Mr. Randhawa stood behind me, holding the shake and dessert, his expression endearingly persistent. "Drink, Dr" he said, his eyes locked on mine.

The hospital staff's snickers and whispers surrounded us: "How cute!" "Mr. Randhawa's smitten!" "Who knew he had a soft side?"

My face burned with embarrassment. The ruthless, senseless devil was following me like a besotted child, worrying about my nutrition in front of the entire hospital.

"Mr. Randhawa, please," I whispered, mortified. "Not now. Mihir needs me."

As I said, "Mihir needs me now," Mr. Randhawa's expression transformed. His face hardened, and his eyes turned dark and cold, sending shivers down my spine. I couldn't comprehend the reason behind his sudden change.

"Drink this," he said, his voice firm, holding out the shake.

I tried to refuse, but he wouldn't listen. His eyes seemed to warn me: refuse once more, and there would be consequences.

"Mr. Randhawa, please," I whispered, glancing around at the curious onlookers.

But he didn't budge. Instead, he scanned the surrounding area, his gaze sweeping across the nurses and compounders.

"Everyone, mind your business," he warned, his voice low and menacing. "Look away, or face the consequences."

The hospital staff cowered, their eyes darting downward. The air thickened with tension.

I didn't dare defy him again. His ruthless demeanor left me breathless.

"Drink," he repeated, his voice softer, yet still commanding.

Silently, I took the shake and sipped, my eyes fixed on his. I didn't want to witness his wrath.

As I drank, his gaze never left mine. His expression remained cold, unforgiving.

Once I finished, he nodded curtly. "Good."

The tension dissipated slightly, but I knew better than to test his patience.With a gentle nod, I turned to leave, eager to attend Mihir.

As I stepped into Mihir's room, Mr. Randhawa followed closely behind, his presence commanding attention. Mihir's eyes sparkled upon seeing me.

"Finally, you came, beautiful," he exclaimed, his face lighting up with a warm smile. "I was waiting for you so long."

I smiled back, my heart melting at his endearing words. "Why didn't you take your medicine, Mihir?" I asked, concerns etched on my face.

Mihir's grin faltered. "I was waiting for you," he replied, his voice laced with sincerity.

As we conversed, I sensed Mr. Randhawa's cold gazes upon us. His expressionless face betrayed no emotions, but his eyes told a different story. When I glanced at him, I caught a flicker of something in his eyes - a sentiment I couldn't quite decipher.

Mihir's voice broke the spell. "Who is he?" he asked, his curious gaze shifting between Mr. Randhawa and me.

I hesitated, unsure how to respond. Mr. Randhawa's presence in my life defied explanation. Was he a benefactor, a friend, or something more?

I looked at Mr. Randhawa, searching for answers, but his face remained impassive. His eyes, however, held a depth that left me perplexed.

"I..." I stuttered, unable to articulate my thoughts.

Mihir's innocent question had exposed the uncertainty surrounding Mr. Randhawa's role in my life. I didn't even know the answer.

Mr. Randhawa's voice cut through the silence. "I'm someone who ensures she takes care of herself," he said, his tone low and even.

His words hung in the air, leaving me wondering what lay beneath their surface.

Mihir's eyes sparkled with curiosity, but I intervened before he could ask more questions.

"Let's focus on getting you better, Mihir," I said, smiling.

As I attended to Mihir's needs, Mr. Randhawa's enigmatic presence lingered, a constant reminder of the mysteries surrounding him - and our complicated connection.

Mihir's laughter filled the room as we chatted, our banter effortless. But then, his words caught me off guard.

"You're my girlfriend, right? You have to fulfill my wishes," Mihir said, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

Mr. Randhawa's expression darkened, his jaw clenched and teeth gritted. For a moment, I thought he would erupt in anger.

But Mihir, oblivious to the tension, continued, "She's my girlfriend, she herself told me. She even fought with Dr. Rishi for me."

Mr. Randhawa's anger simmered, his eyes blazing. How dare Mihir claim me as his girlfriend? And how did he know about the incident with Rishi?

He turned to me, his brow raised in question. "Is this true?" his tone is low and menacing.

I froze, intimidated by his glare. My mind racing, I remained silent.

Mihir intervened, "Hey, don't scare her with that face, Mr. Randhawa."

Mr. Randhawa's gaze never left mine. "So, you're Mihir's girlfriend?" he asked, his tone laced with sarcasm.

Mihir chimed in, "Yes, she is. And she's very possessive."

My eyes widened as Mr. Randhawa's expression turned incredulous. "Possessive?" he repeated.

Mihir nodded. "Yes, she fought with Dr. Rishi for me. That's how much she cares."

Mr. Randhawa's eyes narrowed. "I see. And what exactly did Dr. Rishi deserves her wrath?"

Mihir grinned mischievously. "He flirted with her, of course."

My face burned with embarrassment as Mr. Randhawa's gaze pierced me.

"Interesting," Mr. Randhawa said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "It seems you have a habit of inspiring jealousy, Doctor."

Mihir chuckled. "Yes, she's quite popular."

I opened my mouth to correct them, but Mr. Randhawa's next words left me stunned.

"And I suppose you've already informed Mihir about our...arrangement?"

His tone implied something more, something I hadn't acknowledged. My heart skipped a beat.

What arrangement? What did he mean?

I stood frozen, confusion etched on my face. What agreement was Mr. Randhawa talking about?

Before I could ask, he strode towards Mihir, his eyes locked on the young boy. "Mihir, tell me, do you understand the terms?"

Mihir's eyes widened, and he looked at me uncertainly. "Is it true?" he asked, but I remained silent, unsure what to say.

Mr. Randhawa leaned in, whispering something in Mihir's ear. I strained to hear, but his words were lost to me.Mihir's eyes sparkled, and he nodded enthusiastically.

"I'm the devil," Mr. Randhawa declared, a sly smile spreading across his face.

Mihir grinned, seeming to understand some unspoken language.

"But, Mr. Randhawa, can I get my favorite Empire gaming box?" Mihir asked, his voice filled with excitement.

Mr. Randhawa chuckled. "That's part of the contract, child."

Within seconds, he dialed a number and barked orders. "I need that Empire gaming box delivered to this room within 20 minutes."

He hung up and turned to Mihir. "It's done."

The two shook hands like seasoned business partners, leaving me bewildered.

Mr. Randhawa's gaze shifted to me, a smirk playing on his lips. "You look lost, Doctor."

I remained silent, still trapped in my thoughts. What had just transpired? What contract? What terms?

Mihir's laughter broke the spell. "Thanks, Mr. Randhawa! You're the best."

I watched, stunned, as Mr. Randhawa ruffled Mihir's hair.

"Anytime, child," he said, his voice was low and affectionate.

The scene before me was surreal. Mr. Randhawa, the ruthless businessman, had transformed into a benevolent patron. But his eyes, when they met mine, still held a glint of mischief.

What secrets lay hidden behind that enigmatic smile?

Exhaustion consumed me as I gazed at the clock. Two hours had passed since Mihir's gaming box arrived. I desperately needed sleep, having gone without proper rest for four days.

I faked a sob, too spent to drive myself home. "Mumma, I'm so sleepy."

I dialed Aarohi's number, my eyes half-closed. "Aarohi, can you drop me home? I'm exhausted."

"Half an hour, Doctor," she replied. I nodded, even though she couldn't see me. "Okay."

Stifling a yawn, I lumbered towards my cabin, locking the door behind me. My eyelids drooped as I sank into my chair.

As I settled in, I felt something soft and hard beneath me. Warmth radiated through my body, and my head rested against something solid.

My hand wandered, tracing the contours of a chest. My fingers grazed a cheek, and I marveled at its softness. A gentle smile curved on my lips.

Suddenly, reality struck. What the...? I jolted awake, opening my eyes to find myself on Mr. Randhawa's lap, clinging to him like a koala.

Mortified, I tried to scramble up, but he held me firm, resting my head on his chest. His hand patted mine, and his fingers caressed my hair with soothing gentleness.

No words were spoken, but his actions spoke volumes. Despite my initial resistance, exhaustion took over. I relaxed into his embrace, too spent to argue. As his chest rose and fell beneath my ear, I felt an unfamiliar sense of security. For once, I let go, surrendering to the warmth and comfort.

The world around me melted away, leaving only the sound of Mr. Randhawa's heartbeat. Sleep claimed me, wrapped in the arms of the devil himself.

As sleep's veil enveloped me, Mr. Randhawa's ringing phone pierced the serenity. But before I could fully stir, his soothing touch calmed me.

"Go back to sleep, sweetheart," he whispered, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on my cheek.

His patting hand reassured me, and I relaxed further into his chest. He answered the call, his deep voice and a gentle hum in the background. Snippets of conversation drifted into my fading consciousness:

"Cancel the meeting."...most precious life is in my arms right now."

His words, though cryptic, wrapped around me like a warm blanket. XAs the call ended, Mr. Randhawa's chest vibrated with a soft chuckle.

"Sleep tight, my sweet heart," he murmured, his breath ruffling my hair.

His words dissolved into the darkness, and I succumbed to exhaustion. The last thought echoing in my mind was:

Did he just call me his most precious life?

Sleep consumed me, leaving no room for questions or doubts. In Mr. Randhawa's arms, I found an unlikely sanctuary.

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To be continued...

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