Mine To Protect

Subhash swallowed dryly. Cold sweat beaded along his hairline. Oh God, the driver thought, his stomach dropping into his shoes. Sir is already a walking bomb today. If he steps out and sees these drunk girls blocking his car , he will tear them to pieces. "S-Sir..." Subhash stuttered, glancing nervously into the rearview mirror. "I think... I think they are just college students, Sir. Drunk after some party. Let me handle it. I'll get them off the road right away—" In the back seat, Adithya’s eyes had already scanned the three of them. His gaze didn't linger on her striking face. It didn't soften at her flushed cheeks or the silly, carefree laugh she let out as she weakly batted Maya’s frantic hands away. To a man whose life was built on rigid, dawn-to-dusk discipline, self-restraint, and uncompromising order, the sight was nothing short of an eyesore. "Cultureless girls," Adithya muttered, his tone dripping with icy contempt. The cold disgust in his voice made the interior of the car drop ten degrees. His hand moved toward the door latch, ready to step out, end the nonsense in thirty seconds, and have local patrol clear the street. Before his fingers could shove the heavy door open, his phone vibrated violently against the leather seat. Bzzzz. Bzzzz. Adithya glanced down. The screen lit up again in the dim cabin: Mother.