Chapter 20 : The Fire Between Us & The Shadows That Hunt Us

Diya woke up in a bed that wasn't hers.

Her pulse raced.

The memories of last night flashed in her mind.

The way Abeer had kissed her.

The way she had kissed him back.

The way he had pulled her onto his lap, his hands gripping her waist, his mouth hot and demanding against hers.

The way she had let herself sink into his touch.

The way she had surrendered.

She turned slowly.

And there he was.

Abeer Rathore.

Sleeping next to her.

His arm was draped possessively over her waist.

His breath was slow, steady.

For the first time, he looked peaceful.

No smirk. No arrogance.

Just a man who had claimed her, in every way possible.

Diya's throat tightened.

What the hell had she done?

She had let herself fall.

And she wasn't sure if Abeer would ever let her go now.

Diya tried to move.

Tried to slip away.

But Abeer's arm tightened.

She gasped as he pulled her back against him, his body warm and firm.

His lips brushed against her bare shoulder.

His voice was husky, groggy.

"You're not leaving, jaan."

Diya's breath hitched.

She tried to sound unaffected. "I wasn't—"

"Liar."

Abeer finally opened his eyes.

Dark. Hungry. Amused.

His fingers traced slow, lazy circles against her waist.

"You're thinking too much," he murmured.

Diya swallowed. "I—"

Abeer's lips barely grazed her ear.

"Want me to help you stop thinking?"

Her entire body tensed.

Abeer smirked. "That's what I thought."

Diya turned quickly, glaring at him.

"This was a mistake," she blurted.

Abeer arched an eyebrow. "Was it?"

She opened her mouth, ready to argue.

But then—

His fingers slid under her chin, tilting her face up.

"You can lie to yourself, jaan," he murmured.

His lips hovered over hers.

"But not to me."

Diya hated how easily he saw through her.

She hated how much she wanted him to kiss her again.

But before she could break—

A knock shattered the moment.

BANG. BANG.

"Boss!"

Abeer sighed, pulling away. "This better be good."

Diya exhaled shakily, trying to collect herself.

Abeer stood up, his body all sharp angles and raw strength.

And God help her, she stared.

He caught her.

Smirked.

Diya grabbed a pillow and threw it at him.

He chuckled, catching it effortlessly.

"Careful, jaan," he teased. "Keep looking at me like that and I'll cancel whatever's waiting outside."

Diya huffed.

"You wish."

Abeer grinned, then turned toward the door.

The moment he was gone, Diya pressed a hand to her chest.

Her heart was pounding.

She was in so much trouble.

Abeer returned ten minutes later, his expression unreadable.

Diya sat on the edge of the bed, arms crossed.

"What was that about?" she asked.

Abeer's jaw ticked.

"Information on Tara."

Diya's breath caught. "She's alive?"

Abeer didn't answer immediately.

Instead, he tossed a file onto the table.

Diya grabbed it. Flipped it open.

And froze.

Because staring back at her...

Was a picture of Tara.

Alive.

Standing next to a man.

A man Diya knew.

A man she never expected to see in this world.

Diya's hands shook.

Abeer watched her carefully.

"You recognize him, don't you?"

Diya couldn't breathe.

Because the man standing next to Tara—

Was Aarav Mehta.

Her ex-fiancé.

From her world.

Diya's mind raced.

"What the hell is going on?" she whispered.

Abeer's voice was low, controlled.

"That's what I'd like to know, jaan."

Diya looked up. Met his gaze.

For the first time... she saw something different.

Not just amusement.

Not just possessiveness.

But doubt.

Abeer never doubted himself. Never questioned his instincts.

But right now—he was questioning her.

"You never mentioned him," Abeer said.

Diya's throat tightened. "Because he wasn't supposed to be here."

Abeer's eyes darkened.

"And yet, here he is."

Diya clenched her fists. "I don't know how—"

Abeer grabbed her wrist.

Not hard.

Not rough.

But firm.

Like he needed to feel her pulse.

Like he needed to know she wasn't lying.

"Then tell me, jaan," he murmured. "Did you ever love him?"

Diya's chest tightened.

Aarav had been safe. Predictable.

She had thought she loved him.

But love had never felt like this.

Not like the way Abeer made her feel.

Diya lifted her chin.

"Does it matter?" she asked softly.

Abeer's grip tightened for half a second.

Then—he let go.

"Not anymore."

And for the first time, Diya realized—

Abeer Rathore was capable of jealousy.

And that?

That was more dangerous than any gunshot.