CHAPTER 6 — WHEN DISTANCE STOPS BEING SAFE
963 Words
Moscow — Morozov Headquarters
The explosion wasn’t loud in Rurik’s office.
The building was too well insulated for that.
But the vibration beneath his feet was enough.
Enough to make the glass in his whiskey tremble slightly on the desk.
Mikhail entered without knocking — something only war allowed.
“Dock warehouse three,” he said. “Sokolov hit one of our storage points in Vladivostok. Timed detonation. No casualties… but it’s a message.”
Rurik didn’t look surprised.
He looked… bored.
“Damage?” he asked.
“Replaceable,” Mikhail replied. “But he tagged the scene.”
Rurik’s eyes lifted slowly. “Tagged?”
Mikhail placed a photo on the desk.
Spray-painted on a broken wall at the blast site were two words in Russian.
“I SEE HER.”
The temperature in the room seemed to drop.
Not because of fear.
Because of rage so controlled it became cold.
“He’s bluffing,” Mikhail said carefully. “He doesn’t know where she is.”
Rurik’s gaze didn’t leave the photo.
“He knows enough to try again,” he said quietly.
A long pause filled the office.
Then Rurik made a decision that shifted the direction of everything.
“Prepare the jet.”
Mikhail blinked. “You’re going to India yourself?”
“Yes.”
“Rurik… if Sokolov wants you out of position—”
“He already has my attention,” Rurik said. “Now he gets my presence.”
There was no arguing with that tone.
War had just changed levels.
Navi Mumbai — The Same Night
Divya couldn’t sleep again.
The fear from the attack two nights ago had faded slightly… but not fully. It lingered in the back of her mind like a shadow that moved when she wasn’t looking.
She sat cross-legged on her bed, headphones on, trying to lose herself in music.
That’s when the power went out again.
Darkness swallowed the room.
She sighed. “Not again…”
Her phone flashlight flicked on, casting long shadows across the walls.
She stepped into the hallway. “Maa? Light chali gayi?”
“Yes beta, whole building,” her mom called back.
Divya walked toward the balcony for some air.
The night outside was thick and warm, the city quieter than usual during the outage.
That’s when she heard it.
Not loud.
But wrong.
A car door closing slowly on the street below.
She leaned slightly over the railing.
A black SUV stood near the gate.
Engine off.
Lights off.
Just… there.
Her stomach tightened.
Maybe a visitor.
Maybe someone lost.
Maybe—
A man stepped out of the vehicle.
Tall.
Broad shoulders.
Phone to his ear.
He didn’t look up at her.
But something about the stillness of his posture made her skin prickle.
Then she noticed something else.
Two of the building’s security guards were walking toward him.
Talking.
Relaxed.
Normal.
And then suddenly…
They both froze.
Not dramatically.
Not violently.
Just stiffened like prey realizing too late they were standing in front of a predator.
One of them stepped back.
The man said something calmly.
The guards nodded.
And walked away.
Divya’s breath caught.
Who was that?
Why did trained guards look nervous?
The man turned slightly.
Just enough for moonlight to catch the sharp line of his jaw.
And for one terrifying second…
She felt like he knew she was watching.
Her heart started racing.
She stepped back from the railing quickly, pulse thundering in her ears.
Don’t be stupid. You’re imagining things.
But deep down…
She knew she wasn’t.
Private Airstrip — Mumbai Outskirts
The jet door opened with a soft hydraulic hiss.
Warm Indian air rushed inside.
Rurik stepped down slowly, suit jacket unbuttoned, expression unreadable.
He hadn’t slept during the flight.
Hadn’t needed to.
Anger kept him sharp.
Mikhail walked beside him. “Our local team confirmed Sokolov has hired independent crews. He doesn’t know her exact identity yet… just that she matters.”
Rurik’s eyes darkened. “That mistake will cost him.”
A black convoy waited nearby.
Engines already running.
“Where first?” Mikhail asked.
Rurik didn’t hesitate.
“Her.”
Navi Mumbai — 20 Minutes Later
The SUV Divya had seen earlier was no longer outside.
The power had returned.
Her parents had gone to sleep.
But Divya remained awake, sitting by her window, hugging a pillow to her chest.
Her instincts were screaming.
Something is coming.
Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked wildly.
Then stopped abruptly.
A strange chill ran through her.
Downstairs, on the quiet street outside her building…
A new car rolled to a silent stop.
This one darker.
More expensive.
More dangerous.
The rear door opened.
Polished black shoes touched Indian soil for the first time.
Rurik Morozov looked up at the building.
At the balcony where she had stood minutes earlier.
So this was her world.
Too open.
Too unprotected.
Too easy to reach.
His jaw tightened.
Unacceptable.
“Secure the perimeter,” he ordered quietly.
Men moved like shadows around the block.
Invisible to untrained eyes.
A silent wall forming around one unaware girl.
Rurik didn’t go inside.
Didn’t approach.
Didn’t reveal himself.
Not yet.
But for the first time since seeing her at the train station…
He was close enough to breathe the same air.
And upstairs, without knowing why, Divya suddenly felt it again.
That strange, steady sensation.
Like danger and safety had arrived at the same time.
Like the storm had finally reached her city…
And decided to stand guard instead of strike.
She wrapped her arms around herself and whispered into the quiet room,
“Who are you?”
Down on the street, Rurik’s gaze remained fixed on her window.
And though she couldn’t hear him…
He answered anyway.
“Yours.”
- Writer
