I woke up to the sound of someone shifting beside me. As my eyes fluttered open, I blinked against the unfamiliar surroundings. The room wasn't mine. Floor-to-ceiling windows stood covered in thick curtains, though soft morning sunlight was beginning to seep in through the edges.

Beside me, my niece and nephews were still sound asleep. I was in the middle—Sofia and Ishaan to my left, and Saanvi with her toy tucked under her on the right.

Ishaan had one leg flung over Sofia and an arm stretched across her face. Sofia, in turn, had a hand resting on Ishaan's cheek and her other leg draped over me. Saanvi, curled on her stomach, had completely squished her favorite stuffed toy beneath her. Her wild curls fanned across her face.

Carefully, I sat up and gently repositioned all three of them. I tucked them back under the big blanket, placing pillows along the edge of the bed for safety. My movements were slow, precise. I didn't want to wake them—not after the chaos of the last night.

I glanced down at myself. I was dressed in an oversized T-shirt and a pair of familiar pajama bottoms. As I reached up to tie my hair, a sudden ache shot through my scalp. That's when I noticed the bandage around my head. The memories rushed back—faint, disjointed. The crash, the voices, the darkness.

Pushing those thoughts aside, I gently gathered my hair into a loose, messy bun.

I looked around the room again and spotted a door that looked like it might lead to a bathroom. Inside was a spacious washroom: a large shower on one side, a bathtub big enough for four on the other. A wide mirror hung above a sleek washbasin, and fluffy towels were neatly stacked nearby.

I washed my face and brushed my teeth using a new toothbrush I found in one of the drawers. The cold water helped clear my mind a little.

Back in the hallway, I stepped out quietly, careful not to make a sound. Across from our room was another closed door. I padded softly down the corridor and entered what looked like the main living area.

To the right was a modern, open kitchen with granite countertops and gleaming appliances. Ahead were two large, plush sofas facing a wide-screen TV. Another wall of tall windows flooded the room with sunlight—the curtains here had been drawn open. It made the space look bright and calm, a stark contrast to the fear of last night.

An iPad rested on the coffee table with the news channel playing softly in the background, but the kitchen itself was empty.

Then I noticed the dining table.

Two plates were already set—each with a neatly cut American-style sandwich, and two mugs of steaming coffee beside them. The table was quietly inviting, as though someone had anticipated I'd be up soon.

I stood there for a moment, unsure whether to call out or stay silent. A dozen questions swirled in my head, but one thing was certain: for now, we were safe.

And someone was looking out for us.

Suddenly, the hair on the back of my neck stood up, and goosebumps spread across my arms. I turned around slowly—and froze.

Lorenzo was standing right in front of me.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice calm, yet laced with something unreadable.

My lips parted slightly, but no words came out. He was standing too close—so close that our chests brushed ever so slightly with each breath. His presence was magnetic, overwhelming.

"Cat got your tongue?" he smirked, his gaze never leaving mine.

I blinked, snapping out of the haze. "Yeah... I'm feeling fine. Thank you for asking," I replied, my voice quieter than I intended.

Lorenzo handed me a steaming mug of coffee, his fingers brushing mine for the briefest second. I curled my hands around the warmth, the smell instantly grounding me.

We sat across from each other at the breakfast counter, a quiet hum of the city just faint through the floor-to-ceiling windows. He watched me take a cautious sip, eyes unreadable.

"Too strong?" he asked.

I shook my head. "It's perfect."

He gave a small smile, the first genuine one I'd seen from him since we met. "You still look like you're processing everything."

"I am." I glanced down at my plate, untouched. "I don't know what exactly happened after the car hit me. It's all... blurry."

"You blacked out. Probably a concussion. There was a lot of blood on the pavement."

I flinched, and he immediately softened his tone.

"But you're safe now. That's what matters."

His words held weight—like they weren't just about that night, but something more. Something deeper.

I cleared my throat. "The kids... they were okay, right?"

"They're fine. Thanks to you." He paused. "Rudra said if it weren't for your quick thinking, things could've ended a lot worse."

I blinked, surprised. "He said that?"

He gave a small nod, taking another sip of his coffee. "You have people looking out for you. Even the ones who pretend they don't care much."

Siddharth bhai appeared first, his footsteps heavy, and the moment his eyes met mine, something in his face cracked—relief, worry, anger—all layered at once. Rudra bhai followed behind, still on the phone, his expression unreadable but intense. Even though Rudra bhai is our head security but he has been with Siddharth bhai since they both were in college since freshman year in London . Later Sid bhai appointed him as the security head. And I always called him bhai.

Siddharth bhai didn't say anything at first. He just walked straight up to me and wrapped me in a tight hug.

"God, Adhira... do you have any idea how badly you scared us?" he muttered into my hair.

My arms slowly rose to return the hug, his warmth anchoring me for a moment.

"I didn't mean to," I whispered.

Rudra bhai ended his call and joined us, his sharp eyes scanning my face. "You look pale. How's your head?"

I blinked up at him, touched despite myself. "Sore. But I'm okay."

"Okay?" Siddharth bhai pulled back just enough to look at me. "You were unconscious, covered in blood, and we had no idea if you'd wake up. Aarav was holding your hand like his life depended on it, and Ahaan—he looked like he was about to lose his mind."

Rudra bhai crossed his arms, jaw tight. "You're lucky the car didn't kill you."

"Thanks for the reminder," I said, attempting a small smile to ease their worry. "But I really am fine now. Just... trying to piece things together."

Siddharth ran a hand through his hair. "You could've told someone you weren't feeling okay. Instead, you were trying to protect everyone."

"I didn't have a choice. The kids were scared. Bhabhi was panicking. Someone had to act."

There was a pause. Then Rudra bhai  nodded once, a flicker of respect in his gaze. "You did good, Adhira. Real good."

I looked between them, sensing the shift. "But that's not why you came here in such a rush, is it?"

Rudra's expression darkened. "No."

He pulled out his phone, eyes flicking to Lorenzo and Siddharth before pressing play on a security video.

"This just came in from the underground parking. You need to see it."

The footage was grainy but clear enough. Me, bending down to fix my sandal. The car, emerging from the shadows. No screeching tires. No hesitation. It came straight for me like it knew exactly where I would be.

My breath caught in my throat as I saw myself get hit all over again.

Siddharth bhai's  hand clenched the edge of the table. "That... that wasn't an accident."

"No." Rudra's voice was sharp. "It was planned. The license plates were fake. The driver ditched the car five blocks away and set it on fire."

Lorenzo stepped closer, his entire body tense. "So someone's targeting her?"

"That's what we're trying to find out," Rudra said. "But this was too precise. Too clean. Whoever did this knew the layout, the timing, and her position."

I sat down slowly, the weight of it all sinking in.

"This isn't over, is it?" I asked quietly.

Siddharth shook his head. "Not even close. But we're going to find out who did this."

Rudra nodded once. "And next time, they won't get close enough to try again."

Lorenzo placed a hand on my shoulder, grounding me.

For the first time, I wasn't just someone caught in the crossfire.

I was the target.

As we kept discussing the accident—me trying not to flinch every time Rudra mentioned how close the car came—Aarav Bhai stormed into the kitchen out of nowhere and pulled me into the kind of hug that could've cracked a rib.

"God damn it, Adi!" he half-yelled, half-choked. "What the hell! You scared the life out of us, just lying there like a broken doll for two whole days!"

I blinked. My hand awkwardly patted his back.

"I'm okay," I muttered. That's all I could say. The only thing I ever knew how to say—even when I hated it.

He pulled back, dramatic as ever.

"Okay?! You had a bandage around your head like some mafia don, and the doctors weren't sure if you'd wake up that night! What do you mean okay—"

"Eww. Move." I wrinkled my nose and shoved him back. "You stink like a forgotten gym sock. Go take a bath, Bhai. Seriously, what is that smell?"

He held his chest like I'd just insulted his ancestors. "Excuse you, this is the scent of hard work. I just worked out—to stay in shape, you know? So women still find me attractive."

I gagged a little too loudly. "Right. Because sweating like a potato is so charming. Go, before the kids wake up and file a hygiene complaint."

"I hate this family," he muttered under his breath as he shuffled away.

"Then move out." I called after him.

"I'm rich, I could, but then who would remind you peasants of what a good physique looks like?"

"Your abs are hiding under the drama."

Before he could respond with another fake insult, Bhabhi walked in, flanked by Alana ,all in cute pajamas, hair tied up, with mugs of coffee in hand.

"Why is Aarav screaming about abs again?" Bhabhi asked dryly.

"He thinks he's God's gift to womankind," I replied.

"More like God's half-baked experiment," Alana muttered.

"I heard that!" Aarav yelled from the corridor.

"Good," Kiara bhabhi said sweetly. "Use it as motivation to finally switch to deodorant."

The girls laughed. Bhabhi ruffled my hair and sat down beside me, her hand instinctively checking my forehead like I might melt again.

"Stop, Bhabhi," I grumbled.

"You scared the hell out of all of us, Adi," she whispered, her eyes a little glossy. "I couldn't breathe until I saw you open your eyes."

I didn't know what to say, so I just squeezed her hand.

At that moment, three tiny whirlwinds zoomed into the kitchen: Ishaan, Sofia, and Saanvi—hair messy, eyes half-open, dragging their toys behind them like baby zombies.

"I smell pancakes," Ishaan mumbled, climbing into my lap like it was his personal throne.

"There are no pancakes," I laughed, poking his cheek.

"Then why did I wake up?"

"Because you missed me," I teased.

"I missed TV," he corrected with zero hesitation.

Sofia pouted and hugged me tightly. "I was scared."

Saanvi climbed up beside me and placed her squished bunny in my lap. "Bunny say you no go boom-boom again."

"I promise," I said softly, clutching her toy for a second before setting it beside her.

The laughter quieted.

And slowly, as the kids settled around me, the grown-ups began falling back into that serious tone again.

"Adi," Aarav said, now clean and significantly less smelly, "You really don't remember anything before the car hit you?"

I hesitated.

"I do," I said, voice low. "It came out of nowhere. It didn't feel like an accident. It was too... fast. Too deliberate."

Siddharth Bhai's jaw clenched. Rudra was already on a call again, pacing near the window.

"It wasn't just your instinct," he said finally. "The car was stolen. We traced it. No number plate. No CCTV from that side. This wasn't random."

The room went still.

No laughter this time.

Just the soft clink of Nisha's spoon against her cup. The quiet, almost protective way Ahaana moved closer to me. And the sharp look that passed between Aarav and Siddharth.

A storm was coming. And for the first time, I knew—this family was ready for it.

And this time, so was I.

___________________________________________________________________

There goes chapter 8.

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