Two Days Later – R.K. Heart Institute

To Saanvi Mehra, it was just another week. Another surgery. Another life saved.The man she’d pulled back from the edge — the one with the gunshot wound, cold eyes, and silence like a knife — was already gone from her mind.

She hadn’t even asked his name. It didn’t matter.She didn’t remember Veer.And that was the problem.

__

Delhi – Private Location, Underground Office.A thick black folder dropped onto Veer Aarya Singh’s desk.

“The file you requested, sir.”

He didn’t answer at first. Just stared at the folder like it might bleed.

Then opened it.

Subject: Dr. Saanvi Mehra

Cardiothoracic Surgeon, R.K. Heart Institute.

Age: 28

Lives alone in a gated complex, Tower 6, Flat 1402

No criminal record. No known affiliations.

Behavioral analysis: Routine-driven. Cautious. Emotionally detached.

Family:

Father – Rajeev Mehra. Retired Air Force officer. Lives in Dehradun.

Mother – Neelima Mehra. Homemaker. Frequent temple visitor.

Brother – Aarav Mehra. Age 25. MBA student in Bangalore.

Veer flipped through photos of them. A family portrait at Diwali. Her father, stern. Her mother, warm. Her brother, smiling.Then he stopped on Saanvi. In a candid — seated beside her mother, phone in hand, unaware.

“She forgets,” he said quietly. “But her family remembers her. Loves her. Breathes her.”

He shut the folder with slow precision.“She’s not alone,” he murmured. “Good.”

__That Night – Saanvi’s Apartment

She stirred dal on the stove, flipping absently through her phone.A calm, quiet night. Just like the others.She didn’t notice the car parked across the street — same one as yesterday. Same one as tomorrow.

Inside, a man watched through binoculars. Logged the time she closed her curtains: 9:43 p.m.He sent a single message to Veer:"Routine unchanged. Alone. Lights off by 10:15."

__

Elsewhere – Veer’s Observation Room.Multiple screens glowed. Security footage. Traffic cams. Hotel lobbies. All focused on one person.

Saanvi.

"She doesn’t even remember your name, boss," one of his men dared to say.

Veer’s jaw clenched. His voice came low and firm: “She took a bullet out of my heart. And threw me away like I was no one.”

“Do you want us to—”

“No.”He stood, walked to the board behind him — pinned with photos, times, receipts, maps. One photo at the center: Saanvi’s hospital ID badge.

“Let her live a little longer without knowing.”

“Knowing what?”

Veer’s smile was almost gentle.“That I already own her shadow.”