his mercy was her name

Episode16

Chapter 16: Across Oceans, Still HisPihu Rajvansh's POVLondon – Day 2

For the first time in years—

I woke up in complete silence.

No Leo jumping on me like an oversized emotionally unstable child.

No Ansh knocking on my door because apparently my sleeping schedule was his personal responsibility.

No scent of familiar coffee drifting through the mansion.

No home.

Just silence.

And somehow—

That silence felt heavier than expected.

I lay there for a few moments, staring blankly at the elegant ceiling of my hotel suite.

The room was beautiful.

Luxurious.

Perfectly designed.

But it lacked something fundamental.

Warmth.

Not physical warmth—

Emotional warmth.

The kind I had spent my entire life associating with one impossible man.

And perhaps that was my first real problem.

Because even across countries...

My heart still searched for him first.

Almost instinctively—

I reached for my phone.

And there it was.

Ansh:

Breakfast. Don't skip.

Sent at exactly 7:00 AM.

My lips parted.

Then curved helplessly.

Because of course.

Of course Rudransh Singh Rathore—

A man who could terrify governments—

Still somehow prioritized whether I had eaten.

A laugh escaped me despite myself.

Soft.

Real.

Painfully familiar.

Me:

Good morning to you too.

Do all mafia kings start their mornings by harassing surgeons internationally?

His response came less than a minute later.

Ansh:

Only when the surgeon in question lacks survival instincts.

My chest tightened unexpectedly.

Because there it was again—

That impossible steadiness.

That terrifying consistency.

Even oceans away—

He remained him.

And maybe...

That was why forgetting him felt less like healing...

And more like trying to amputate a living part of myself.

Morning Memory

As I got dressed for the symposium—

A memory surfaced so vividly it almost physically hurt.

I was twelve.

Furious after losing a school academic award by one mark.

I had dramatically declared starvation in protest.

Ansh—

Thirteen.

Already insufferably controlling—

Had followed me around the dining room table holding buttered toast like it was a life-saving mission.

"Pihu."

"No."

"Eat."

"No."

"You're embarrassing."

"I'm grieving."

He had sighed like a deeply burdened husband.

Then shoved toast directly into my mouth.

I had glared murderously.

He smirked.

"See? Dramatic, but alive."

Even then—

He had known exactly how to dismantle me.

And years later—

Nothing had changed.

Royal Medical Symposium

The conference itself was breathtaking.

Massive international halls.

Brilliant minds.

Advanced surgical innovation.

Doctors whose names I had once only read in journals.

And for the first time in months—

I wasn't just emotionally surviving.

I was thriving.

Doctor Pihu Rajvansh.

Not fragile girl.

Not hidden heartbreak.

Not someone orbiting Rudransh Singh Rathore.

Me.

And God—

That mattered.

My presentation on emergency cardiac reconstruction received recognition I hadn't even dared anticipate.

Senior surgeons praised me.

Colleagues sought conversations.

Opportunities expanded.

And though pride absolutely bloomed inside me—

A tiny, infuriating part of my heart still whispered:

Ansh should see this.

Because no matter how fiercely I tried separating my future from him—

My deepest victories still instinctively belonged to us.

Emotional Quiet

That evening—

After the overwhelming success of the day—

I found myself alone near the Thames.

London sparkled around me.

Elegant lights.

Historic architecture.

The cool breeze carrying both sophistication and loneliness.

I wrapped my coat tighter.

And for the first time since arriving—

Allowed myself honesty.

I missed him.

Not just romantically.

Not just painfully.

But fundamentally.

I missed my best friend.

The boy who once tied my shoelaces because I was too distracted.

The teenager who stayed awake through my exam anxiety.

The man who knew every version of me—

And still stayed.

My fingers absentmindedly touched my wrist.

Another memory surfaced.

Childhood Memory

Age ten.

A month after he rescued me.

I had nightmares almost every night.

One stormy evening—

I woke crying.

Terrified.

Convinced everyone I loved would disappear again.

Without hesitation—

Ansh had climbed beside me, despite being only eleven himself.

He tied a red thread gently around my wrist.

"What's this?"

He looked so serious.

So certain.

"A promise."

"For what?"

His answer had been immediate.

"If you get scared...""Hold this.""And remember you're never alone."

Simple.

Childish.

Yet somehow—

It had saved me more times than he'd ever know.

Present

And now?

Thousands of miles away—

I realized something devastating:

I had never truly stopped holding onto that promise.

Even if the thread itself was long gone.

India – Rudransh's POV

The mansion was unbearable.

Quiet in all the wrong ways.

No chaotic footsteps.

No Leo-induced disasters.

No random interruptions demanding I take breaks.

Even Leo had become emotionally intolerable.

He slept outside her room nightly.

Refused to fully eat.

And occasionally glared at me like I personally caused global suffering.

Which—

Fair.

I sat in my office late at night reviewing reports I wasn't truly reading.

Because on another screen—

London surveillance quietly played.

There she was.

My Pihu.

Walking confidently.

Speaking brilliantly.

Smiling.

And every time she smiled—

Something inside me both healed and shattered simultaneously.

Because she looked beautiful.

Powerful.

Alive.

But also—

Independent.

And perhaps for the first time—

That terrified me.

Because what if distance taught her she no longer needed me?

What if this trip gave her clarity I wasn't prepared for?

What if—

No.

The thought alone was intolerable.

Rudransh's Childhood Memory

Age fifteen.

Pihu had a severe fever.

Nothing critical.

But enough to terrify her.

Enough that she refused medicine from anyone except me.

At 3:00 AM—

Half-delirious—

She had weakly grabbed my hand.

"Ansh..."

"I'm here."

"Don't leave."

And despite mafia training...

Despite responsibilities...

Despite everything—

I hadn't moved an inch all night.

Because even then—

Some vows existed beyond reason.

Present

And now?

I was watching her sleep through security updates instead of being there.

The irony felt cruel.

Day 6 – LondonAdvik Arrives

"Tell me honestly..."

I nearly dropped my coffee hearing his voice.

"Did you miss me or are you just emotionally vulnerable?"

I turned sharply.

"Advik?!"

There he stood.

Smug.

Beautifully overdressed.

Entirely too pleased with himself.

Holding coffee.

"Surprise."

I laughed.

Really laughed.

And perhaps—

That was dangerous.

Because Advik was easy.

No trauma.

No impossible restraint.

No devastating history.

Just...

Relief.

Soft Healing

The next few days became lighter.

He explored the city with me.

We visited:

Hyde Park

Tower Bridge

Local bookstores

Luxury cafés

Hidden dessert spots

He flirted shamelessly.

Teased constantly.

And somehow—

Without trying—

He reminded me that I was still capable of joy.

Not love.

Not replacement.

But joy.

And after everything—

That mattered.

The Spicy Scene – Rooftop NightPrivate London Dinner

By day six—

Advik insisted I needed "one night of elegance."

His words.

Not mine.

So somehow—

I found myself standing beneath glittering rooftop lights in a sleek black dress.

The gown was sophisticated.

Soft.

Elegant.

Hugging me just enough to feel undeniably feminine.

And judging by Advik's expression—

Dangerously effective.

He stared.

Actually stared.

Then exhaled dramatically.

"You cannot dress like that and expect me to behave professionally."

I rolled my eyes.

"You've never behaved professionally."

"True."

He offered his hand.

And for one brief reckless second—

I took it.

Dinner Tension

Wine.

Laughter.

Conversation.

The night was effortless.

Too effortless.

And perhaps that was what made it dangerous.

Because somewhere between city lights and emotional exhaustion—

I let my guard lower.

After dinner—

Rain began softly.

The balcony overlooked all of London.

Golden.

Dreamlike.

Cool wind kissed my bare shoulders.

I shivered.

Without hesitation—

Advik removed his jacket and stepped behind me.

Draping it over my shoulders slowly.

His fingers brushed my skin.

Warm.

Lingering.

My breath caught.

Not dramatically.

Not intentionally.

Just...

Honestly.

"You hide too much pain behind strength," he murmured near my ear.

My pulse stumbled.

Because his tone had changed.

No teasing.

No jokes.

Just dangerous sincerity.

I turned slowly.

Too slowly.

And suddenly—

We were close.

Very close.

Rain mist clung lightly to my skin.

His hand gently brushed a damp strand of hair behind my ear.

Then rested—

Lightly—

At my jaw.

"Pihu..."

His voice lowered.

And for one impossible second—

I genuinely considered it.

Moving on.

Choosing peace.

Letting someone softer hold the broken pieces Ansh kept refusing to claim.

His face leaned closer.

Breath warm.

Lips inches away.

And then—

My phone rang.

Ansh Calling.

Everything stopped.

My entire body reacted instantly.

Because somehow—

Across oceans—

One man still held power no one else could touch.

Advik saw it.

Understood it.

And slowly stepped back.

Not angry.

Not bitter.

Just...

Aware.

I answered.

"Hello?"

Rudransh's POV

The moment she answered—

I knew.

Background music.

Rain.

Breathlessness.

Male energy.

And my restraint nearly snapped.

"Where are you?"

"At dinner."

"With Advik?"

Silence.

That silence alone was enough to ignite something dark.

Territorial.

Possessive.

Violent.

Because another man being close enough to affect her breathing?

Unacceptable.

And yet—

I forced control.

Because loving Pihu had always required impossible restraint.

Chapter Ending

That night—

Under London rain and impossible choices—

Pihu Rajvansh understood something devastating:

She could appreciate healing.

She could crave peace.

She could even nearly choose someone easier.

But when it came to the love carved deepest into her soul—

The kind rooted in childhood promises, heartbreak, sacrifice, and ruin—

It had always been Ansh.