The truck rumbled low as it crawled down a lonely highway, rain streaking the windshield in silver ribbons. Inside, the world was warm — the cab dimly lit, smelling of diesel, wet earth, and the faint lingering scent of you. You were curled on Veer's lap, tucked beneath his chin, your soft breath brushing against his neck with each rise and fall of your chest.

Veer drove with one hand, the other resting possessively on your hip, his thumb rubbing small, absentminded circles against your side. His touch was firm but gentle, anchoring you against him as if you were too precious to ever let go. You shifted a little in your sleepiness, murmuring his name, making him glance down for the briefest second — that rare, unreadable gleam in his eyes softening as he looked at you.

"Sona..." he whispered under his breath, almost like a prayer.

Behind the two of you, in the dark belly of the truck, the true nature of the night's work lay hidden — three bodies, hastily wrapped in tarp, the sharp metallic stench of blood buried under layers of thick plastic. Men who had crossed Veer, challenged his growing empire, and paid for it with their lives.

You didn’t know. You couldn't have known. You, with your soft cotton dress and your hair still damp from the rain, smelled only of soap and fresh dreams. You trusted the world too much. You trusted him too much.

Veer's jaw tightened as he felt your fingers curl trustingly into his shirt, a small sigh escaping your lips as you nestled closer. He could feel your heartbeat — steady, delicate — pulsing through the thin fabric between you. So fragile. So breakable.

His other hand tightened briefly on the steering wheel, knuckles whitening. He had shielded you from the rot he walked through daily, built an entire false world where you were safe — where you smiled at sunsets, waved at villagers, and thought the worst thing in the night was the rain leaking through the window.

Veer bent slightly, pressing a kiss into your hair, breathing you in like a drowning man catching air.

You shifted again, peeking up at him with sleepy eyes.

"Where are we, Veer?" you whispered, your voice soft as a bell.

"Almost home, sona," he murmured back, voice rough, protective.

You smiled — that bright, blinding smile that made even the ugliest parts of him go still. And then you tucked your head back against his chest, trusting him completely, unaware that death rode just behind you.

Veer stared at the road ahead, the storm swallowing the truck whole, his arms tightening around you.

He would walk through hell a thousand times over if it meant keeping you untouched by its fire.

And if anyone ever dared to drag you into his darkness, Veer already knew exactly what he would do.