Karan wiped her tears, afraid that his tears would fall too. Not wanting that to happen, he laced his fingers with hers and guided her toward the car. He opened the back door for her himself, waited until she was seated, and closed it softly.
As he walked around to the other side, reaching for the handle, the sound pierced through the air.
A sharp, deafening gunshot.
Mishti screamed from inside the car as she saw Karan stagger back a step, his hand flying to his arm as pain rippedthrough him. Blood bloomed instantly against the white fabric of his shirt.
“Karann!” She was out of the car before anyone could stop her.
The driver rushed forward, catching Karan just as his knees threatened to buckle.
The airport security reacted instantly. Shouts echoed. Gates slammed shut. Armed personnel sprinted toward the perimeter, one unit chasing the direction from which the shot had come, another forming a protective ring around them.
“I’m here,” Mishti cried, clutching him, her hands shaking as she pressed against his injured arm without even realising it. “I’m here. Look at me.”
He winced but pulled her closer anyway, his uninjured arm wrapping around her instinctively.
“I’m fine,” he said through clenched teeth.
“You are shot,” she shouted. “You are bleeding.”
“It’s just a graze. The bullet…just grazed my arm. I’m fine,” he assured her, catching his own breath.
“We need to get to a hospital. Right now.” She sobbed.
The driver opened the car door again. With help from security, Karan was guided inside, Mishti climbing in after him, her hands refusing to let go of him even for a second.
“Clear the route,” one of the officers ordered sharply.
Two security vehicles pulled ahead as an escort. Another followed behind. The driveway was emptied within seconds.As soon as the car sped away from the terminal, Mishti fumbled into her handbag and pulled out a scarf. With trembling hands, she wrapped it tightly around Karan’s arm, tying it firmly to slow the bleeding. Tears streamed down her face as she murmured broken prayers under her breath, barely aware of the words leaving her mouth.
Karan himself was disoriented. The shock had not fully worn off yet. Questions crowded his mind. Who had shot him? And why. But the moment his gaze fell on Mishti, sobbing uncontrollably beside him, his focus shifted entirely to her. He forced himself to steady his voice.
“Mishti,” he said, despite the haze settling in his head. “I’m fine. Look at me.”
She tried. God, she tried. Her eyes were flooded, her lashes wet, her breath coming out in uneven gasps.
“It’s just a graze. Nothing serious,” he said, assuring her again.
She nodded, although her body still shivered. Karan reached for her hand and entwined his fingers with hers, exhaling slowly as if grounding himself through her touch. The pain was intense, but still bearable. Whoever had done this would pay. Hard.
Then something struck him. He tried to reach for his phone in his trouser pocket, but winced. Mishti noticed immediately and helped him, pulling it out carefully since his other arm was injured.
“Call Rajat,” he said quietly.
She dialled and handed the phone to him.
The moment Rajat answered casually, Karan immediately said, “I’ve been shot.”
Rajat’s voice rose instantly in panic, demanding to know how it had happened. But Karan cut him off before he could say more.
“Get your security with you,” he said firmly. “Reach home and stay there with Avni. I’m heading to the hospital. Mishti is with me. Let Abhimanyu know. Ask him to stay alert.”
Rajat agreed immediately, although his voice turned tense. “I’m calling the commissioner right now. Then I’m coming to the hospital with Abhimanyu.”
“No,” Karan said without hesitation. “Stay with Avni. You know this isn’t a coincidence.”
Rajat fell silent for a second. He understood. But more than him, Mishti did.
