Chapter 19: A Collision of Fates

Siara Rajawat was many things—smart, resourceful, and incredibly stubborn. But logical when she was pissed? Not exactly.

Her foot pressed hard on the accelerator as she sped down the highway, weaving between cars like a woman on a mission. The city around her blurred, the honking horns barely registering in her ears.

"Kya zaroorat thi bina guards ke aane ki? Koi bravery award milne wala tha kya?" she muttered under her breath, scolding herself. (Why did I come alone? Was I expecting a bravery award or something?)

But in her defense, she hadn’t expected things to go this wrong.

She had thought she’d find the waiter, get some information, and be out in fifteen minutes max. Simple. Easy.

Instead, she had watched a man get brutally murdered, his lifeless body crumpling onto the cold floor while an unknown figure had stood over him like a god of death.

And now?

Now she was being chased.

The black SUVs in her rearview mirror weren’t just there for a friendly race. They were tailing her with the kind of persistence that made her stomach twist.

She could handle herself in a fight—her father had made sure of that. But this? This was something else entirely.

"Yeh toh kisi action movie ka scene lag raha hai," she whispered. (This feels like an action movie scene.)

She gritted her teeth, tightening her grip on the steering wheel.

Fine. If they wanted to chase her, she’d give them a damn good reason to regret it.

She yanked the gearshift, swerving into a narrow street, nearly sending a street vendor flying. The man screamed something colorful in her direction, but she was too busy not dying to respond.

The SUVs followed.

She pushed the car harder, taking another sharp turn, barely missing a speeding truck.

"Mujhe koi Fast & Furious ka role milna chahiye," she muttered under her breath, heart hammering. (I should get a role in Fast & Furious at this point.)

The SUVs didn’t give up.

They were gaining on her.

Her breath hitched.

Alright. Time for something reckless.

She spotted an upcoming intersection and, without thinking, took a near-impossible left turn. The tires screeched, the car tilted dangerously, and for a moment, she was sure she was going to crash.

But she didn’t.

And when she glanced at her mirror, she saw it.

The SUVs had overshot the turn.

They were gone.

She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

She had won.

But before she could celebrate—

A black mercedes. Right in front of her.

Her eyes widened in horror.

Shit. No.

She slammed the brakes, her tires screeching against the road as the car skidded to a sudden, violent stop—inches away from slamming into a sleek, black Mercedes.

Her heart stopped.

And then she saw him.

Sitting in the driver's seat, staring at her with a mixture of shock and mild irritation, was none other than—

Ekansh Vardhan.

Of all the people she could have nearly killed today… why him?

For the first time in her life, she was actually glad to see his infuriatingly calm face.

Ekansh stepped out of his car, his dark eyes narrowing as he took in the scene. His sharp gaze moved from her shaking hands gripping the wheel to the faint tremor in her breath.

His brows furrowed.

He walked towards her car with measured steps, exuding that infuriatingly calm authority that made people listen to him without question.

Siara swallowed hard.

This was not how she had planned her day.

Ekansh reached the driver’s side and pulled the door open.

“Out,” he ordered, voice smooth yet unyielding.

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Siara,” he said, his tone sharp, “get out of the car.”

She didn’t move.

He sighed and, without waiting for her response, grabbed her wrist and pulled her out himself.

She barely had time to react before she found herself standing inches from him, the scent of expensive cologne and something distinctly Ekansh filling her senses.

His gaze was scanning her again, not in a way that most men did, but like he was assessing her, taking in every little detail.

His eyes landed on the way she was still slightly trembling.

Siara quickly shoved her hands into the pockets of her coat.

Ekansh’s jaw tightened.

“You should be at home, resting,” he muttered, voice laced with irritation. “Not driving like a lunatic through the city.”

Siara let out a breathless, nervous laugh.

“Yeah, well… plans change.”

Ekansh folded his arms, his frown deepening. “Why were you driving like that?”

She opened her mouth, but no words came out.

What was she supposed to say?

That she had just witnessed a murder?

That someone had probably seen her, and now she was being hunted?

That for the first time in a long time, she was scared?

Siara Rajawat didn’t do scared.

And yet, here she was, unable to hide the slight shake in her fingers, the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

Ekansh noticed.

His gaze softened just slightly.

And then, before she could stop herself, she did something she never thought she’d do.

She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him.

Tightly.

The world stilled.

Ekansh stiffened, completely caught off guard.

Siara Rajawat was hugging him.

Voluntarily.

For a moment, he didn’t move. He wasn’t sure if this was real or if he had just hallucinated.

Then, slowly, cautiously, he lifted his arms and wrapped them around her.

His hand moved in slow, soothing motions over her back, grounding her.

Siara exhaled, her forehead resting against his chest. She could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the warmth of his presence.

For a moment, she allowed herself to just be.

No guards.

No pretenses.

No rivalry.

Just… this.

Ekansh, still trying to process what the hell had just happened, finally spoke, his voice quieter this time.

“What happened, Siara?”

She didn’t answer.

Not yet.

Because for the first time in a long, long time—

She felt safe.