"Jaanti hu isme kaafi kuch daav par hai, lekin yeh jung uss purani mohabbat aur dosti ke naam hai"

~ meher mathur raizada

~ Author ~

Mumbai, India

Meher pressed herself back against the rough, cracked wall of the hallway, feeling the chill of the peeling paint through her skin. The dim light barely cut through the oppressive shadows, cloaking her in a deep, unsettling darkness. She stood frozen, clutching the stolen phone in her hand, her heart pounding so loudly it threatened to betray her. Every sound was amplified in her mind: the distant murmur of voices, the hum of a dying light bulb, and her own shallow breathing as she waited.

As the sound of approaching footsteps grew closer, Meher's fingers gripped the phone tighter, her mind racing through the possibilities. A mix of fear and anticipation coiled inside her, paralyzing her body while her thoughts jumped to every consequence that could unfold if she was found out. She reminded herself to breathe— softly, silently as she prayed that whoever was approaching would pass without a glance in her direction.

The footsteps stopped, a mere few feet away. Meher closed her eyes and tried to slow her breath, forcing herself to stay calm as her senses heightened. She opened her eyes just enough to glimpse the imposing silhouette of Kavitha, the woman who seemed to rule this shadowed world with an iron hand. Her massive, brightly painted bindi seemed to glow eerily in the dim light, marking her as a warning of danger.

Kavitha scanned the hallway, her gaze piercing as she muttered to herself in frustration, fumbling for keys. Meher flattened herself against the wall, each muscle in her body taut as she willed herself to be invisible. Her palms were clammy, and she felt a single bead of sweat trickling down her neck as she waited, almost holding her breath. The cold seared her lungs as she inhaled, waiting for Kavitha to leave.

Kavitha fumbled briefly at the door before her, muttering something about forgetting to lock it. With a sigh, she swiftly locked it, the click of the door echoing down the silent hallway. Meher watched as Kavitha turned and walked away, her footsteps slowly fading until silence settled once more.

Meher finally exhaled, her knees feeling weak with the release of tension. She peered down the hall, watching Kavitha disappear around the corner. This was her chance to hurry back to the small room she'd been confined to, the room she now called her "safe zone" despite everything. With cautious, hurried steps, she slipped back, heart still pounding, until she safely reached her room and closed the door behind her.

Inside, Pari was waiting, her face etched with worry as she took in Meher's breathless expression. Pari's eyes darted to the door, her small form tense with anticipation. Meher lifted the stolen phone triumphantly, displaying it like a trophy.

"I managed to take a few photos," she whispered, her voice hoarse with relief and adrenaline. "Evidence," she added, hoping the single word would capture the enormity of what she had just done.

Pari's eyes widened, a glimmer of hope flickering within them. "Did anyone see you?" Her voice was barely a whisper, laced with an urgency that mirrored Meher's.

"No. I was careful." Meher's reply was clipped, more to convince herself than Pari. "But... I need to stay hidden until we find a way to escape."

Pari gave a reluctant nod, glancing at the door as if expecting someone to burst in at any moment. The tension between them was palpable, an unspoken understanding that they were teetering on the edge of something irreversible.

"Please, lock me in here again," Meher urged. "I can't be seen wandering around."

Pari hesitated but eventually relented, her gaze filled with apprehension. She took the door handle, glancing at Meher one last time before stepping outside and securing the lock. Alone once more, Meher let out a shaky breath. She leaned against the door, the stolen phone cold in her hand.

She decided to try calling for help, even though the numbers felt distant and unreachable in her memory. She tried to remember Kabir's number, but the digits refused to fall into place. Frustration twisted within her, mingling with an aching despair. Her mission seemed more dangerous than ever, and the very thought that she might never get out of this brothel gnawed at her.

Unable to think of another solution, Meher reluctantly turned the phone off and hid it within the folds of her undergarments, pressing it close to her body as her one small lifeline. A moment later, she heard the muffled sounds of footsteps approaching again.

The door opened with a metallic clang, making Meher flinch. It was Pari, but this time she was accompanied by another young woman whose downcast eyes and resigned expression spoke volumes. Pari entered first, her gaze softening as she saw Meher's pale face.

"Come with us," Pari murmured, her voice soft but edged with urgency. "It's time to get ready."

Meher felt a cold shiver run down her spine. She followed the two girls, keeping her gaze low and her expression neutral, as they led her down a narrow, dimly lit corridor that smelled of stale perfume and decay. She couldn't help but notice the bleakness that pervaded the brothel— the walls were cracked and stained, lined with tattered posters and faded memories of long-forgotten promises.

They guided her to a cramped room where a chipped mirror and a small vanity sat against one wall, laden with makeup and a rack of worn, gaudy sarees. The heavy scent of cosmetics filled the air, almost suffocating in its intensity.

Pari reached for a garish saree, its fabric coarse and frayed. She handed it to Meher, who took it reluctantly, her face twisting in distaste. It was a painful reminder of the reality she was trapped in.

"Change into this," Pari instructed her tone softer than before. "We don't have much time."

Nodding, Meher stepped into the dingy washroom connected to the room, her footsteps echoing in the silence. Once inside, she hid the phone behind a loose tile under the sink, praying it would remain safe. She quickly changed into the saree, struggling with its unfamiliar folds and cheap fabric.

When she emerged, Pari and the other girl immediately set to work, dabbing powder and applying makeup with practised efficiency. As Pari leaned close to apply the kajal, her hand brushed Meher's side, and Meher felt something cold press against her skin. She glanced down discreetly and saw the hilt of a small knife tucked into her waistband.

"Keep it hidden," Pari whispered, her eyes meeting Meher's with fierce determination. Meher nodded, gratitude surging within her for this small, hidden act of rebellion. It was a lifeline, however small, and it reignited her hope.

They continued their work in silence, painting Meher's face with layers of garish colour until she could barely recognize herself in the cracked mirror. The transformation felt surreal like she was stepping into another persona entirely, a mask that shielded her true self.

When they finally finished, they left her alone in the small room, the silence pressing down on her like a heavy shroud. Meher sat on the edge of the bed, her fingers unconsciously tracing the hilt of the knife at her waist. Her mind was a chaotic storm of fear, anger, and determination. Every creak of the floorboards, every distant voice, heightened her senses and amplified her dread.

She waited, each passing minute stretching into an eternity. The room felt like a cage, trapping her in its suffocating walls as she awaited the arrival of her so-called "client." Her breath came in shallow bursts as she mentally prepared herself for what lay ahead.

The door creaked open, and her heart skipped a beat. But it wasn't a stranger— it was Pari once more, slipping in quietly. Her expression was solemn as she met Meher's gaze, and in that moment, a silent understanding passed between them.

"You'll need all the strength you have, Meher," Pari whispered, her voice barely audible. "Stay brave."

With that, Pari slipped out of the room, leaving Meher alone once more. Meher sat on the bed and clutched the knife at her side, her fingers digging into the hilt as she steeled herself for whatever was to come.

As the door creaked open for the second time, Meher's heart pounded so violently she could feel it echoing in her chest. The faint light from the corridor cast an eerie glow, outlining the figures of not just one, but three men stepping into the room. The air grew thick with a sense of foreboding, and a chill ran down her spine as she pressed herself against the far wall, instinctively searching for any space to retreat.

She couldn't make out their faces clearly in the dim light, but the rough outline of their frames and the deliberate slowness of their approach sent a wave of fear coursing through her. They exchanged hushed words, their tones cold and calculating, each glance at her intensifying her sense of dread.

One of the men stepped forward, a smirk pulling at the edges of his lips as his gaze lingered on her, making her feel as if she were being sized up, like prey cornered by a predator. He lifted his hand, his fingers trailing along the sleeve of his worn jacket as though already savouring the fear in her eyes. She swallowed hard, her breaths coming in shallow, rapid bursts.

"I hope we don't have to make a fuss, sweetheart," he sneered, his voice dripping with a kind of malice that told her he was used to getting his way, and wouldn't tolerate resistance.

Meher's mind raced. She felt the small, sharp edge of the knife that Pari had slipped to her earlier pressing against her waist. But would it be enough? Could she defend herself against all three of them if they came at her at once? She kept her hand close to her side, the knife hidden beneath her trembling fingers, her eyes scanning for any possible escape route.

The second man chuckled, his eyes glinting with a sinister excitement that made her stomach churn. "Feisty one, aren't you?" he taunted, clearly entertained by her defiance, even as her fear was evident.

But Meher forced herself to keep her gaze steady, locking eyes with him, a spark of determination igniting beneath the terror. If they thought she was helpless, she'd show them that she wasn't as weak as they assumed.

Just then, the third man reached into his coat, pulling out something she couldn't quite see. Her heart stuttered as she braced herself, clutching the knife tightly, poised to strike if she had no other option. Every part of her wanted to scream, to call for help, but she knew that would do nothing here.

Instead, she forced herself to crawl back on one corner of the bed, refusing to let them see her break. Her mind was filled with flashes of Kabir's face, the warmth in his eyes, and the strength he had instilled in her. She drew from that memory, letting it give her courage as she faced the three shadows looming over her.

She wouldn't go down without a fight.

* * *

Kabir stood in the makeshift command centre they'd set up near the brothel, hands clenched at his sides as he glanced over the digital maps laid out before him. His gaze was fixed on the detailed layout of the brothel, each doorway and corridor sketched with precision, marking potential obstacles, exits, and ambush points. Yet no amount of information seemed enough to quiet the turmoil within him; he was consumed by thoughts of Meher, wondering if she was safe if she was afraid, and if he could reach her in time.

His mind drifted back to their last conversation, the argument that had spiralled out of control. The regret gnawed at him, and he tried to push it down, forcing his focus back to the task at hand. The dim light in the command room flickered, casting tense shadows as he waited for Officer Mistry's arrival.

His heart was racing, though outwardly he maintained his composed stance. A few of his own security personnel stood nearby, armed and ready, while another small team— a more elite armed force he'd brought in personally— waited just outside. He had left nothing to chance. Meher's well-being had never been negotiable for him, and tonight, he would risk everything to ensure her safety.

A tap on his shoulder pulled him from his thoughts, and he turned to see Officer Mistry approaching, her stride purposeful, her face etched with the seriousness of the mission.

"Thank you for waiting, Kabir," she said in her steady, no-nonsense voice. "The plan is finalized, but I wanted to go over it with you personally."

Kabir nodded curtly, barely trusting his voice to reply as he waited for her to continue. Officer Mistry spread a printed map on the table, and the other personnel gathered around, silent and focused.

"We've pinpointed the most strategic entry points," she began, tapping a few red-marked spots on the map. "There are two entrances we'll utilize. One here," she gestured to the back alley, "where your men will be stationed. This area should be relatively clear of immediate threats. And here," she pointed to a side entrance on the opposite end, "where I'll lead my team in."

She paused, meeting Kabir's gaze. "Timing is crucial. Once we're in position, we'll make our move to the second level, where intel suggests they're holding the girls. Based on the camera feeds that we received from Meher, it looks like they're using room numbers as identifiers. Meher will likely be held in one of the upper floor rooms for the client," she pointed to a block of rooms in the middle of the second-floor layout.

Kabir's jaw clenched as he absorbed every word. He didn't just listen— he committed each detail to memory, his mind racing as he processed the plan. Despite his frustration, he trusted Officer Mistry's judgment. She was sharp, reliable, and, more importantly, had agreed to let him be part of the mission despite her reservations.

Once the layout was clear, Officer Mistry pulled back, her face softening slightly as she met Kabir's eyes. "I know this is personal for you, Kabir, but we have to do this by the book. No mistakes."

Kabir's voice was barely a whisper. "I understand, Officer. But let me be clear— I will do whatever it takes to get her out of there."

Officer Mistry nodded, recognizing the resolve in his tone. She pulled out a small, sleek gun from her holster, offering it to him with a firm expression. "Use this instead," she said, noticing the gun that was tucked in his pocket, her tone brooking no argument. "Your weapon is licensed to you. The last thing we need is evidence that could implicate you if anything goes wrong."

Kabir stared at the gun for a moment before reaching out and taking it. It felt cold in his hand, a stark contrast to the firestorm brewing inside him. He checked the chamber, noting the unfamiliar feel of the weapon, but his focus was unwavering. He wouldn't risk a traceable mistake— not when Meher's life was at stake.

"Thank you," he replied, his voice gruff but sincere.

"Make no mistake," Officer Mistry added, her voice dropping. "This will be dangerous. They're heavily armed, and the odds of a peaceful extraction are slim. We're relying on complete silence before we move, and any misstep could alert them."

Kabir nodded. "Understood."

They continued working out the specifics, adjusting minor details of their entry and exit points. The air between them was thick with tension, but Kabir's confidence grew as they fine-tuned the strategy. For each point Officer Mistry raised, he added a countermeasure, further refining the plan until every second of the mission was accounted for.

Finally, satisfied, Officer Mistry folded her arms and took a deep breath, exuding the calm of someone who had been on countless high-stakes missions. She glanced around, noting the readiness in the room.

"Everyone is in position. We just need to wait for the perfect moment."

The room fell into a tense silence as the minutes stretched on. Kabir's eyes kept darting to the map, the routes memorized but replaying in his mind, ensuring there were no gaps, no potential for error. Every sound outside the room made his pulse quicken, every second feeling like an eternity.

"Are we clear to proceed?" one of Kabir's men asked in a low voice.

Officer Mistry looked at Kabir and gave a short nod. "Not yet," she replied, "but soon."

Kabir's fingers twitched, his body coiled and ready. The wait gnawed at him, each passing second a reminder that Meher was alone, potentially in danger, and he was here, forced to stay patient. His gaze dropped to his hand, where the unfamiliar weapon lay, a potent reminder of what he was about to risk.

In the silence, his mind drifted back to Meher, to her laughter and her fierce, stubborn spirit. She'd walked into this willingly, unflinchingly, and while he admired her courage, it tore at him that she would risk so much. He longed to see her again, to make up for their argument and hold her close. The weight of his worry and guilt sat heavily in his chest.

Finally, Officer Mistry's radio crackled to life, and a low voice confirmed that they had a clear signal to begin.

"It's time," she said, meeting Kabir's gaze with a steely determination. She signalled her team to move into position, and Kabir watched as the carefully orchestrated operation sprang to life. Officers moved with precise, soundless steps, fanning out across the pre-determined entry points.

Kabir slipped the police-issued gun into his waistband, adjusting his stance as he prepared to lead his team to the back entrance. The plan was in motion, and every step they took was a step closer to getting Meher out.

As they approached the back alley, he turned to his men, his voice low but commanding. "No sound, no mistakes. We don't go in until Officer Mistry signals."

The men nodded, their faces set with the same grim determination. They moved to their positions, each one waiting, poised to strike.

Kabir's focus was absolute as he scanned the surrounding area, ears straining for any sign of movement from within the building. The silence was almost too much, amplifying his anticipation to an unbearable pitch. He clenched his fists, counting the seconds in his mind, his heart pounding in sync with the ticking clock.

The radio in his ear crackled, and Officer Mistry's voice came through, barely a whisper. "We're in. Hold positions until further notice."

Kabir clenched his jaw, forcing himself to remain steady as he waited for the final word. Every fibre of his being was screaming to rush inside, to find Meher, to make sure she was safe. But he held his ground, disciplined in his silence, knowing that the smallest misstep could jeopardize everything.

And then, finally, the order came.

"Go."

Kabir moved with practised precision, leading his team into the darkened hallway. The air inside was thick and musty, and every step echoed as they moved deeper into the brothel. Kabir's senses were sharp, his gaze scanning every shadow and every doorway as they crept closer to their target.

Each room they passed felt like a lifetime, his nerves taut with the possibility that at any moment, they might find her. But he pressed on, his resolve unbreakable, his determination unwavering.

Because tonight, nothing— no fear, no danger would stop him from bringing Meher back.

And we are done with yet another chapter. This sequence is quite long considering I need to show both sides of the story simultaneously as to what is happening at what time. Meher is in grave danger and Kabir is ready to kill anyone who harms Meher. What do you think will happen?

Do let me know in the comments below.

You'll get the next chapter tomorrow and mind you, it's not for the weak-hearted. Reader's discretion is advised. Hope you guys enjoyed the reading.

Do VOTE, SHARE and COMMENT. Comment a heart if you guys enjoyed reading this chapter.

With Love,

Akii.