Chapter 17: A Past She Never Knew

Diya's hands shook as she stared at the files in front of her.

Old records. Pictures. Documents.

Her name was written in one of them. Not Sia's. Not her fake identity. Her real name—Diya Kapoor.

She felt lightheaded.

"Abeer," she whispered. "What the hell is this?"

Abeer leaned back against the desk, watching her like she was a puzzle he had already solved.

"You really thought you just appeared here by accident, jaan?"

Diya's stomach twisted.

She had time-traveled into the world of a book she wrote.

Or at least, she thought she had.

But now?

Abeer was saying this wasn't a story at all.

This was real.

And somehow—she had always belonged to it.

"Tell me," she whispered, her throat dry.

Abeer's eyes darkened.

"Who am I, Abeer?"

He tilted his head, stepping closer. "The only woman who was ever meant to be mine."

Diya grabbed the files, flipping through them frantically.

There were names. Places. A list of people—most of them crossed out.

Her fingers trembled. Dead. They were dead.

And at the bottom of the list...

Diya Kapoor – Last Known Location: Unknown.

Her breath hitched.

Last known location?

Abeer's voice was smooth, careful. "They've been looking for you, jaan."

Diya's hands curled into fists. "Who?"

Abeer exhaled. "The people who took Tara. The people who think you shouldn't exist."

A chill ran down her spine.

She was never supposed to be here.

But someone—**someone powerful—knew she was.

And now?

They wanted her gone.

Diya turned to Abeer, her heart pounding.

"Tell me the truth," she whispered. "All of it."

Abeer smirked. "You think you can handle it?"

Diya lifted her chin. "Try me."

Abeer took a slow step toward her. "You want my protection?"

Diya stiffened.

"I didn't say that—"

"But you need it," he murmured.

Diya hated that he was right.

"You think you can escape me, jaan?" he continued, his voice dropping to something sinful.

Abeer reached out, tracing a finger along her jaw.

Diya froze.

His touch sent a shiver down her spine.

"Let's make a deal," Abeer whispered.

Diya swallowed hard. "What kind of deal?"

His thumb brushed her lower lip.

"You stay with me," he murmured. "In my world. Under my protection."

Diya's pulse skyrocketed.

"And in return?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Abeer's lips curled into a dark, knowing smile.

"You're mine."

Diya's breath hitched.

Her hands fisted at her sides.

"You don't own me, Abeer."

Abeer chuckled. "We'll see about that."

His fingers slid lower, grazing her throat, her pulse racing beneath his touch.

"Say yes, jaan," he murmured. "And I'll keep you safe."

Diya clenched her jaw.

She had two choices.

Say no—and risk dying.

Or say yes—and risk something even worse.

Being completely consumed by Abeer Rathore.

Her breath came out shaky.

"I hate you," she whispered.

Abeer smiled. "That wasn't a no."

Diya was trapped.

And Abeer knew it.

He stepped closer, pressing her back against the desk.

His hands caged her in.

"You feel it, don't you?" he murmured.

Diya's fingers curled against the wood.

"Abeer—"

He leaned in, his lips hovering over hers.

"This heat between us."

Diya's breath hitched.

"You can fight it all you want," he whispered. "But we both know..."

His hand slid to the curve of her waist.

"You belong to me, jaan."

Diya shuddered.

Abeer tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze.

"Say it," he murmured.

Diya's chest rose and fell too fast.

She was losing.

Losing to him.

She squeezed her eyes shut. "I—"

Before she could finish, a gunshot rang through the air.

BANG!

Diya gasped.

Abeer's head snapped toward the door.

Shouting. Running footsteps. Chaos.

Someone was here.

And they weren't alone.

Abeer's grip tightened on her waist.

"Looks like your enemies found you first, jaan."

Diya's blood ran cold.