his mercy was her name

Episode 17

Chapter 17: When Distance FailedPihu Rajvansh's POVLondon – After the Call

For several long seconds—

I simply stood there.

Phone still in my hand.

Rain mist cooling my skin.

Heartbeat... disastrously unstable.

Because somehow—

One brief phone call from Ansh had undone emotional balance I had spent days trying to rebuild.

"Go back early."

Not "Take care."

Not "Enjoy yourself."

Not "Goodnight."

Just—

Possessive concern wrapped in control.

Classic Rudransh Singh Rathore.

And the worst part?

Some traitorous, deeply broken part of me...

Loved it.

I slowly lowered the phone.

Advik stood a respectful distance away, hands in his pockets, expression unreadable.

But his eyes—

Too perceptive.

Too intelligent.

He knew.

Not everything.

But enough.

"Well," he finally said with a soft exhale,

"I think I've officially been defeated by a man on another continent."

I blinked.

"What?"

He offered me a faint, painfully understanding smile.

"Pihu..."

His voice held no bitterness.

"Do you know what your face looks like when he calls?"

My breath caught.

Because no—

I didn't.

And suddenly—

I wasn't sure I wanted to.

Advik shook his head lightly.

"Forget it."

Then, with that same familiar easy charm:

"Come on, Dr. Rajvansh. Let me at least salvage what remains of my dignity by dropping you home safely."

I laughed softly despite the heaviness in my chest.

Because Advik...

For all his flirtation...

For all his growing feelings...

Still remained kind.

And somehow—

That made me feel guiltier.

The Ride Back

The streets of London blurred past in soft golden lights.

Rain painted the windows.

The atmosphere felt quieter now.

Not awkward.

Just... thoughtful.

Advik drove with one hand resting casually on the wheel.

Relaxed.

But less playful than usual.

"You love him."

The words were calm.

Matter-of-fact.

And yet—

They struck deeper than expected.

I looked out the window.

Silent.

Because denying it now felt childish.

Painful.

Pointless.

After a moment—

I answered honestly.

"...I don't know how not to."

That confession felt heavier than tears.

Because it wasn't dramatic.

It wasn't impulsive.

It was truth.

Advik's grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly.

But when he spoke—

His tone remained gentle.

"Then stop punishing yourself for that."

My head turned sharply.

He continued, eyes still on the road.

"Loving someone deeply isn't weakness, Pihu."

"Staying where you're unloved is."

His words hit hard.

Because maybe—

That had always been my fear.

Not that I loved Rudra.

But that perhaps...

He would never choose me fully.

India – Rudransh's POV

I didn't sleep that night.

Not really.

I worked.

Reviewed security updates.

Attended calls.

Handled threats.

But beneath every task—

One truth remained:

She almost let someone else close.

The thought was poison.

Not because I doubted her.

Never.

But because I knew exactly what emotional neglect could do.

Distance created openings.

Pain created vulnerability.

And if I continued forcing myself away—

Eventually...

Someone else might become what I refused to be.

The realization was unbearable.

Leo, who had been sprawled near my office door, suddenly lifted his massive head.

Alert.

Restless.

He walked over and pressed against my side heavily.

As if sensing the storm inside me.

I exhaled slowly, resting a hand against his fur.

"She misses us."

Leo huffed.

A low sound.

Accurate.

"And I..."

The words stopped.

Because saying them aloud felt dangerous.

But Leo already knew.

He always knew.

My jaw tightened.

"She's getting sick."

The latest security medical note had shown fatigue.

Exhaustion.

Overworking.

Of course.

Because no matter where she went—

Pihu still pushed herself beyond reason.

And that—

More than jealousy—

Triggered something primal in me.

London – Day 8Pihu's POV

I should've rested.

I knew that.

My body knew that.

But opportunity had consumed logic.

Workshops.

Panels.

Networking.

Surgeries.

Late nights.

Emotional exhaustion.

And my body—

Fragile since childhood—

Finally began retaliating.

At first—

It was small.

A sore throat.

Mild chills.

Headache.

I ignored it.

Because naturally—

I was an i***t.

By evening—

I was shaking.

By night—

I could barely stand.

And by midnight—

I collapsed onto my hotel bed, fever burning through me violently.

My skin felt unbearably hot.

Yet I shivered uncontrollably.

Every joint ached.

Vision blurred.

And for the first time since arriving—

I didn't feel powerful.

Or independent.

Or accomplished.

I felt small.

Weak.

Scared.

Like that same little girl who once searched desperately for Ansh after losing everything.

My trembling fingers reached for my phone.

Without thought.

Without pride.

Without hesitation.

Ansh.

He answered on the first ring.

"Pihu?"

And the second I heard his voice—

My composure shattered.

"Ansh..."

One word.

Barely whispered.

But enough.

His tone changed instantly.

Sharp.

Deadly.

Protective.

"You're sick."

Not a question.

A fact.

"I'm okay..."

Lie.

Terrible lie.

His voice lowered dangerously.

"No."

"You're not."

And suddenly—

Tears burned my feverish eyes.

Because God—

Even now...

Even from oceans away...

He still knew.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

I tried to respond.

Failed.

Because exhaustion and emotion crushed language.

Finally—

My voice cracked.

"...I miss home."

Silence.

Then—

The words that broke me:

"I'm coming."Rudransh's POV

Everything stopped.

Immediately.

No hesitation.

No debate.

No logic.

Only instinct.

Within minutes:

Private jet prepared

London physician contacted

Hotel security elevated

Medical staff arranged

Personal schedule cleared

Nothing mattered except one truth:

She needed me.

And when Pihu needed me—

Distance became irrelevant.

Childhood Memory

Age eleven.

Pihu had severe viral fever.

She cried nonstop unless I stayed near her.

I hadn't slept for two nights.

My uncle had once asked:

"Why are you so obsessed with watching over her?"

My answer had been immediate.

"Because no one watched over her before."

Even then—

My purpose had been absolute.

And now?

Nothing had changed.

London Hotel SuitePihu's POV

I don't remember sleeping.

Or time.

Or the exact moment the hotel door opened.

But I remember him.

Because even in feverish haze—

My soul recognized safety instantly.

"Ansh..."

He crossed the room in seconds.

His hand pressed gently to my forehead.

His expression darkened immediately.

"Burning."

His voice was tight.

Controlled.

But beneath it—

Rage.

Not at me.

At himself.

At distance.

At every moment he wasn't here.

"You overworked."

Even half-dead—

I frowned weakly.

"I'm literally dying..."

For the briefest second—

His lips twitched.

"Drama."

He brushed damp hair from my face.

"You have fever, not death."

And somehow—

Even sick—

That familiar softness nearly destroyed me.

Because this...

This was home.

Soft Intimacy

He stayed all night.

Of course he did.

Medicine.

Cold compress.

Soup.

Blankets.

Temperature checks.

Every movement practiced.

Gentle.

Devoted.

Like childhood had simply repeated itself.

At one point—

Half asleep—

I whispered:

"You came..."

His fingers paused softly in my hair.

Then—

In that same quiet, devastating voice:

"I always come."

And God—

That one sentence healed and broke me simultaneously.

Because he wasn't just saying words.

He was reaffirming a lifetime.

Private Jet – Returning Home

By morning—

Though weak—

I was stable.

And naturally—

Commercial flights were out of the question.

So now—

Wrapped in his oversized blanket aboard his private jet—

I sat curled beside him.

Exhausted.

Feverish.

Safe.

He adjusted my blanket for what felt like the hundredth time.

"Stop moving."

"You're aggressive for someone caregiving."

"You're impossible for someone sick."

I smiled weakly.

Then—

Without fully thinking—

I rested my head gently against his shoulder.

Silence.

No rejection.

No tension.

Only—

His body subtly relaxing.

His hand slowly covering mine.

Warm.

Protective.

Dangerously familiar.

For the first time in months—

Neither of us moved away.

Emotional Softness

"Ansh..."

"Hm?"

"Thank you."

His jaw tightened slightly.

Then—

That same devastating truth:

"You never thank me for protecting what's mine."

My breath caught.

Because perhaps—

He didn't realize what those words did to me.

Or perhaps...

He absolutely did.

Either way—

My heart heard them.

Clearly.

Chapter Ending

As clouds drifted beneath their private jet—

And Pihu slept softly against his shoulder—

Rudransh stared quietly ahead.

One truth now undeniable:

He could create distance.

He could deny himself.

He could sacrifice everything.

But when it came to Pihu Rajvansh—

He would cross oceans without hesitation.

Because some loves—

No matter how forbidden—

Were never meant to be restrained.

Only protected.