Unlawfully yours - Chapter 8: Chapter 8

Ishani gritted her teeth, pressing a gauze pad to her side. The wound wasn’t deep, but it burned. It wasn’t meant to kill her.
It was meant to warn her.
She sat on a stool in the forensic lab, her hands slightly trembling as she tried to clean the cut. Her mind raced, replaying the voice that had whispered near her ear.
“I warned you.”
Who was it?
She had no idea.
What scared her more? They had gotten close enough to hurt her, and she hadn’t even seen their face.
Her phone buzzed. Aarav.
Ishani inhaled sharply. She had to tell him. But as she looked at the blood on her fingers, she hesitated.
Aarav wasn’t just logical. He was dangerous when he was angry.
And if she told him what happened, he would burn down the city to find out who did it.
She wasn’t ready for that.
Not yet
Aarav sat in his apartment, flipping his pen between his fingers, staring at the case file.
Something was off.
His instincts had been buzzing all evening, ever since he had walked out of the library. He had tried to push the feeling away, but it refused to leave.
Then his phone buzzed.
Ishani.
His brows furrowed. Why the hell was she awake at this hour?
He picked up immediately. “Kya hua?” (“What happened?”)
For a second, there was silence on the other end. Then her voice came, calm but not quite steady.
“Lab mein thi… kuch dekh rahi thi.” (“I was at the lab… just going through some things.”)
Aarav’s grip tightened around his phone. He knew her well enough by now. Something was wrong.
He leaned forward. “Kya dekh rahi thi?” (“What were you going through?”)
A slight hesitation. “Bas forensic reports.” (“Just forensic reports.”)
Lies.
Aarav’s jaw clenched. “Jhooth mat bolo, Ishani.” (“Don’t lie to me, Ishani.”)
Her breath hitched slightly. That’s all it took for him to know—something had happened.
A cold sensation spread through his chest. “Main aa raha hoon.” (“I’m coming.”)
“No, Aarav—”
He cut the call before she could finish.
If she wasn’t going to tell him, he’d find out himself.
Fifteen minutes later, Aarav walked into the forensic lab.
Ishani looked up, startled. “Tum yahan kya kar rahe ho?” (“What are you doing here?”)
His sharp gaze moved over her, taking in every detail—the way she was sitting too stiffly, the way her left hand was gripping her side.
And then he saw it.
Blood.
Not much, but enough.
Aarav’s entire body went stone cold.
He strode forward. “Utho.” (“Get up.”)
Ishani hesitated. “Aarav—”
“I said. Utho.” (“Get up.”)
Something in his tone made her obey. As soon as she straightened, Aarav caught her wrist and lifted her shirt slightly from the side.
A shallow but clean cut. Red, smeared against her skin.
Aarav didn’t say a word.
Didn’t react.
Didn’t even breathe for a second.
Then, his fingers tightened around her wrist.
“Kisne kiya?” (“Who did this?”)
His voice was dangerously calm.
Ishani pulled her hand back. “Aarav, it’s nothing—”
His expression turned lethal. “Nothing? Yeh kuch nahi hai? Koi tumhe attack karke chala gaya aur tum keh rahi ho, kuch nahi hua?” (“Nothing? Someone attacked you, and you’re saying it’s nothing?”)
Ishani exhaled, gripping the table. “Mujhe nahi pata kaun tha, Aarav.” (“I don’t know who it was, Aarav.”)
He took a step closer. His cold rage was suffocating. “Aur tumne mujhe pehle kyun nahi bataya?” (“And why didn’t you tell me earlier?”)
“Because I knew you’d react exactly like this.”
Aarav let out a harsh laugh, shaking his head. “Tumhe lagta hai main shant reh sakta hoon jab kisi ne tumpe attack kiya?” (“You think I can stay calm when someone attacked you?”)
Ishani crossed her arms. “Main forensic student hoon, Aarav. Mujhe danger ka idea hai. Yeh bas ek warning thi.” (“I’m a forensic student, Aarav. I understand danger. This was just a warning.”)
Aarav’s gaze turned ice-cold. “Warning? Tumhe pata bhi hai tum kya keh rahi ho?” (“Warning? Do you even hear yourself?”)
Ishani met his anger with steady eyes. “Agar mujhe maarna hota, toh yeh cut itna halka nahi hota.” (“If they wanted to kill me, this cut wouldn’t be so light.”)
Aarav’s fist clenched. “That doesn’t make it okay.”
His voice had dropped. Lower, sharper. The kind of voice people didn’t argue with.
For the first time, Ishani saw it—the real Aarav Mehta. The one who didn’t forgive. Who didn’t let things go.
The one who would burn down the world if someone touched what was his.
She swallowed. “Aarav…”
His gaze flickered to hers. For a second, the storm quieted.
Then, without another word, he turned and walked toward the door.
Ishani’s stomach dropped. “Where are you going?”
His voice was emotionless. “Find the person who did this.”
“Aarav, stop.”
He didn’t.
Ishani grabbed his arm, forcing him to turn. “Mujhe nahi pata kaun tha. Tum kahan dhundhne ja rahe ho?” (“I don’t know who it was. Where do you think you’re going to find them?”)
His jaw tightened. “Agar mujhe jawab nahi mil rahe toh main jawab nikalwa loonga.” (“If I don’t get answers, I’ll make sure I get them.”)
She could see it now—he wasn’t just angry. He was furious. He was past reason. Past control.
She had to stop him.
She stepped closer, placing a hand on his chest. “Aarav… ruko.” (“Aarav… stop.”)
A muscle ticked in his jaw. His rage was battling against her touch.
She let her voice soften. “Tumhe mujhse wada karna hoga. Koi impulsive move nahi.” (“You have to promise me. No impulsive moves.”)
Aarav’s breathing was heavy, his fists still clenched.
Then, finally, he let out a sharp exhale. “Fine.”
Ishani relaxed slightly. “Good.”
But as Aarav turned away again, his voice was quiet, deadly.
“Par yeh mat sochna ki main ise bhool jaunga.” (“But don’t think for a second that I’ll forget this.”)
She didn’t doubt it for a second.