After their first meeting, something had changed.
Earlier it was just messages.
Now it was memories.
Sasmita sat near her window at night, holding her phone. She replayed the way he looked at her. The way he stood confidently. The way those men suddenly became silent in front of him.
Her heart whispered —
"He protects."
Her mind warned —
"He hides something."
The next morning, she received a message on Facebook.
Srikant: "Good morning, Professor. Missing me already?"
She smiled unconsciously.
Sasmita: "You think too much."
Srikant: "No. I observe."
That word again.
Observe.
Throughout the day, she felt as if someone was watching her. Not in a scary way… but in a protective way.
After college, it started raining heavily. Students rushed outside. She had no umbrella.
Suddenly, a black car stopped in front of her.
The window rolled down.
Srikant.
"How many times will you get stuck in the rain without telling me?" he said calmly.
Her heart skipped.
"How did you know I was here?"
He smiled slightly.
"Love trains don't miss their station."
She hesitated… but got inside the car.
The silence between them wasn't awkward. It was heavy. Emotional.
Rain hit the windshield. The world outside blurred.
Inside, everything felt intense.
"You trust me?" he suddenly asked.
She looked at him.
"I don't know why… but yes."
For a second, his expression softened deeply.
As if those words meant more than anything.
But at the same time—
From the rearview mirror, she noticed another vehicle following them.
Srikant's jaw tightened.
His fingers gripped the steering wheel slightly harder.
But his voice remained calm.
"Don't look back."
Her heart began to race.
Who was following them?
Why did his calmness feel dangerous?
The car suddenly took a sharp turn into a different road.
Within seconds, the vehicle behind disappeared.
He stopped the car near her house.
Before she stepped out, he said quietly—
"No matter what happens… stay on my train."
She didn't fully understand his words.
But she nodded.
As she entered her house, her stepmother was standing at the door with a strange smile.
"Get ready. Tomorrow some guests are coming."
Guests?
Proposal?
Or something else?
Meanwhile, in a dark room somewhere in the city—
A man threw a glass against the wall.
"So the King has started playing with emotions."
On the table was a file.