She Did Not Ask Permission
Najma did not cry.
She did not panic.
She became still.
Too still.
Ranveer watched the change happen in real time—the way her breathing slowed, the way her eyes emptied of softness.
"Cancel the engagement preparations," she said calmly. "Clear the house."
Ranveer grabbed her wrist. "Najma—"
"I said clear the house," she repeated. "They're watching."
That was all he needed.
Within minutes, security moved. Doors locked. Phones confiscated.
Najma was already moving.
She knelt where Twinkle's phone had fallen, fingers brushing the cracked screen.
Her thumb hovered—then typed rapidly.
GPS.
Last signal.
Interrupted call.
She exhaled once.
"They took her cleanly," Najma said. "No noise. No witnesses."
Ranveer's jaw clenched. "Tell me what to do."
Najma looked at him.
Not as a fiancé.
As a partner.
"Trust me," she said. "And don't follow."
He shook his head. "Not happening."
Her voice softened dangerously. "If you come, they'll use you."
Silence.
Then Ranveer nodded once. "Then I'll stay where I can help."
She accepted it.
Najma disappeared into the night without explanation.
No guards.
No weapons visible.
Only intention.
The warehouse smelled like oil and dust.
Najma stood on the roof across the street, watching the pattern of guards below.
Amateurs.
She smiled faintly.
One by one, the lights went out.
A guard dropped without a sound.
Then another.
By the time the door opened, no one was left standing.
Inside, Twinkle lay unconscious, wrists bound.
Najma's chest tightened—but her hands stayed steady.
She cut the rope.
Twinkle stirred. "Sister…?"
"I'm here," Najma whispered. "Close your eyes."
Twinkle obeyed.
Footsteps echoed.
Rachel stepped into the light.
"You came," she said softly. "Just like I knew you would."
Najma straightened slowly.
"You used the wrong leverage," Najma said calmly. "You touched my family."
Rachel laughed nervously. "Ranveer will never love you if you do this."
Najma tilted her head. "You don't understand."
She raised the gun Rachel had dropped earlier.
"I don't negotiate."
A single shot echoed.
Silence followed.
Najma didn't look back.
She carried Twinkle out herself.
By the time Ranveer arrived, police lights filled the street.
He ran to her. "Is she—"
"She's alive," Najma said. "That's all that matters."
Ranveer looked at her then—not with fear.
With awe.
And something darker.
Love.