76."You Taste Pretty Good."

[3RD PERSON POV]

The soft hum of the hospital room was the only sound that filled the space, save for the quiet flickering of Krishna's phone that Jhanvi holding as she swiped through the reels. Her head rested gently on the pillow, her expression calm, almost serene, as she sat on the medical bed. The IV saline drip connected to her arm kept a steady rhythm, a small reminder of the turmoil that had come before, yet now, there was a peaceful aura surrounding her.

Her fingers moved lightly across the phone screen, occasionally pausing to laugh softly at something amusing. The bright glow of the device illuminated her face, making her seem a little more at ease than before. Her earlier panic and unease had softened into a gentle quiet, though there was a quiet vulnerability in her eyes that Krishna couldn't ignore.

He sat beside her, a quiet presence, cutting an apple into slices with careful precision. The knife moved smoothly through the fruit, and as he glanced over at Jhanvi, he couldn't help but smile faintly. Despite the chaos of the night, the adrenaline and tension that had plagued them both, seeing her calm in this moment gave him a sense of relief, though he knew there was still much to handle.

It was five in the morning, a few hours since they had arrived at the hospital. After the chaotic drive, where he had called the doctor ahead, he'd barely had time to pause and reflect. He had been driven by the need to get her treatment as quickly as possible. As soon as they arrived, he had seen to it that Jhanvi received immediate care. The doctor had arrived soon after, and the team had quickly assessed her condition. In the midst of the chaos, he had called Brahma, urging him to meet him at the hospital as well.

And Brahma had rushed over with Reddy without hesitation. The reunion between Brahma and Jhanvi had been emotional, heartwarming even. There were tears, soft words exchanged, and moments of comfort before Krishna relayed the entire situation, explaining everything that had happened to Jhanvi. Hearing the story, Brahma's anger had flared up quickly. His protective instincts had surged, and he immediate wanted to kill Jaidev. The sheer rage in his voice had been palpable, and for a moment, it had felt like the tension in the room could snap.

But Krishna, ever the strategist, had kept his cool. He'd put a hand on Brahma's shoulder, his voice firm yet calm as he stopped him, "Don't be impatient. You've waited this long, now just wait a little while longer. We're going to kill him soon."

At that, Brahma had paused, his anger simmering but contained. He understood the need for patience, even if it was hard to bear. Krishna had then given Reddy instructions on the next steps, concerning the car and other important matters.

Brahma, after receiving all the details, had left to speak with the doctor, leaving Krishna and Jhanvi alone in the room.

Krishna's thoughts wandered back to the present as He finish cutting an apple into neat slices, the bright fruit providing a simple but comforting presence in the sterile room. He picked up one piece, holding it in his hand as he turned to her.

"Here," Krishna said softly, offering her the slice.

But instead of reaching for it, Jhanvi smiled up at him, her eyes twinkling with a playful glint. She parted her lips slightly, tilting her head toward him in an almost childlike gesture.

"Aa," she said, her voice light, teasing, as if it were some game.

Krishna blinked, a brief flicker of surprise passing through his eyes. His lips parted slightly, and he paused for a moment, trying to make sense of her actions. He knew she had been through a lot, but this—this playful side of her was unexpected. He let out a small sigh, his gaze softening, but there was a hint of mischief in his voice when he spoke.

"What do you think I am?" he said with a playful smile. "I'm your kidnapper, not your nanny. Eat it yourself."

Jhanvi held her phone in one hand, her other arm connected to the IV drip. She smiled playfully up at Krishna, her lips slightly parted in the familiar "aa" gesture she had made earlier.

"My one hand is holding a phone, and the other is stuck with saline," Jhanvi teased, her voice light but full of that warmth she hadn't had the strength to express earlier. "How can I eat? Please, feed me, aa."

Krishna sighed, a mix of exasperation and amusement in his expression. He relented, lifting the apple slice to her lips. As he did, something shifted in him—a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. It wasn't just the gesture of caring that felt right, but the closeness, the quiet connection they shared.

He fed her, the space between them comfortable, but then, as if on a whim, he glanced up at her suddenly, his smile faltered for a moment, and he leaned back, looking at her with a slightly bemused expression. "Wait a minute," he said, his voice light, but with an edge of mischief. "I think I should call the doctor."

Jhanvi, who had been in the midst of smiling up at him, froze. "Ha? What? Why?" she asked, her expression now a mix of confusion and curiosity.

Krishna leaned back in his chair, his smile turning playful but with an edge of mock seriousness. "I think you might have Stockholm syndrome," he said, his voice light but with a trace of humor. "And that's dangerous."

The words hit her harder than expected. Her face flushed instantly, her expression shifting from playful to defensive. "It's nothing like that!" she retorted quickly, her cheeks turning a deeper shade of red. "You—you got it wrong. I don't have Stockholm syndrome!"

Krishna couldn't help but chuckle at her flustered reaction. He rolled his eyes, clearly amused. "Yeah, yeah, sure. You don't have anything like that." His voice was teasing, but there was a softness to it, an unspoken understanding that seemed to linger between the lines of his words.

He looked into her eyes then, his gaze softening. A brief silence hung between them, as if the world outside the hospital room had faded away, leaving just the two of them in this quiet moment. There was a moment of stillness, an unspoken connection between them. He shifted closer to her, and her heart skipped a beat. His face was now so close to hers that she could feel the warmth of his breath on her skin. Her face flushed even more, her heartbeat quickening as their proximity intensified. She could see the mischievous glint in his eyes, but also the depth of something more.

"But are you sure, sweetie," he said with a smile, his voice a touch more intimate now, "that you're not falling in love with your kidnapper?"

Jhanvi's breath caught, her heart racing, and for a moment, the teasing words hung in the air like a challenge. Her face was bright red, her mind scrambling to find a response that could match the intensity of the moment. But all she could do was stare at him, her mind too jumbled to form a coherent thought.

Her pulse quickened at his closeness, the playful smirk on his face almost too much to bear. She didn't know whether to be embarrassed, angry, or amused. But deep down, she couldn't ignore the stirring feeling inside her.

The quiet moment between Krishna and Jhanvi was broken by the sudden sound of the door creaking open. The sudden creak of the door breaking the stillness of the room brought Krishna and Jhanvi back to reality in an instant. Krishna quickly straightened up, his posture returning to its usual nonchalant stance as he moved back to his chair. The tension that had briefly hung in the air was gone, replaced by a calm, almost casual atmosphere—at least from Krishna's side.

Jhanvi, however, wasn't so composed. Her face was still flushed a deep red, the warmth spreading across her cheeks as she avoided Krishna's gaze, her mind trying to reset from the playful and intimate moment. Her hand instinctively moved to adjust her hair, trying to regain some semblance of normalcy.

The door swung open wider, and in walked Brahma, followed by Reddy. Their presence immediately changed the atmosphere in the room, and Krishna's casual gaze shifted to them, his expression going neutral but still carrying the playful glint in his eyes. Brahma's eyes, however, immediately locked onto Jhanvi. His gaze flickered to her flushed face, then quickly shifted to Krishna, his brow furrowing in a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.

Krishna's eyebrows arched as Brahma's eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward slightly, studying the scene in front of him. "What's happening here?" Brahma asked, his voice carrying a note of incredulity, as if he had walked into a moment that didn't quite make sense.

Krishna flashed a teasing smile, leaning back in his chair. "Nothing you old man can't understand," he said with a casual shrug, his tone light but laced with humor. He leaned back further, glancing at Jhanvi, who was still too embarrassed to say anything.

Brahma chuckled, shaking his head. "Chhote, you—" he began, but Krishna quickly raised his hand, cutting him off with a grin.

"Okay, okay. Now tell me, what did the doctor say?" Krishna asked, his voice softening slightly as he turned his attention to Brahma.

Brahma sighed, stepping further into the room. "Everything is fine. Nothing to be worried about," he said, his voice calm, yet laced with relief. The weight that had hung in the room moments before seemed to lift with his words.

Krishna let out a quiet sigh of relief as well, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "Well, that's good," he said, offering Brahma a warm smile. "Now let's go. We've got lots of work to do."

Brahma nodded, giving a quick glance at Jhanvi before turning his attention back to Krishna. As Krishna moved to stand, ready to leave the room, Jhanvi, still with that flush on her face, quickly reached out and grabbed his hand.

Krishna looked at Jhanvi with a mix of surprise and concern, his smile fading into something softer as he noticed the silent tears slipping down her cheeks. Jhanvi's eyes remained downcast, but the steady trail of tears down her cheeks spoke volumes—words that she couldn't bring herself to say. The room felt heavy with her silence, and Krishna could sense the weight of her emotions pressing down on her.

Krishna shifted in his seat, his heart tugging in a way he hadn't expected. He felt a sense of vulnerability in the room, something raw and unguarded. It wasn't like her to seem so small, so fragile.

"What's happened, sweetie?" Krishna's voice was gentle, his usual playful tone replaced with concern. He tried to lift her chin with his free hand, but Jhanvi still didn't meet his eyes. Her silence was like a weight on his chest, and it made him ache to know what she was feeling.

He glanced at Brahma and Reddy, who, seeing the moment between the two, nodded silently and stepped out of the room, closing the door behind them. The room fell into a quiet, intimate space, just the two of them. Krishna turned back to Jhanvi, his voice laced with warmth as he leaned forward, trying once more.

"So... what's up?" Krishna asked, a soft smile on his lips. But Jhanvi didn't answer. She just continued to look down, her hands still clasping his, though her grip was weaker now, as if she were afraid to let go, yet unwilling to fully reach out.

Krishna's eyes flicked over her face, and his heart skipped a beat when he saw it—tears. Slowly, they fell from her eyes, a silent testament to whatever was churning within her. The sight of her tears made something tighten in his chest. He didn't know what had happened, but he knew it hurt her deeply.

He sighed, unable to sit idly by, feeling his protective instincts kicking in. With a gentle, tender touch, Krishna moved his hand to Jhanvi's face, cupping her cheek and wiping away the tear that had just fallen. He tilted her head up so that their gazes could meet. His heart softened at the sight of her vulnerable eyes, full of emotion and pain, as if she were silently pleading for something she couldn't quite express.

"What are you, a crybaby?" Krishna said, his words light but filled with warmth, hoping to comfort her. His thumb brushed against her cheek as he gently wiped away another tear. "I don't know why you cry so much. But tell me, why are you crying now?"

Jhanvi finally met his gaze, her lips trembling as she looked at him. Her voice came out as a soft whisper, thick with emotion. "Can't you stay here with me?"

Krishna exhaled deeply, a lighthearted sigh escaping his lips as he looked at Jhanvi. His playful smile remained, but there was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes, a soft understanding beneath the teasing. "So, I'm right," he said with a teasing grin. "You really do have Stockholm syndrome." His tone was light, almost playful, but the underlying concern was palpable.

Jhanvi didn't answer him, her gaze still lowered, her thoughts lost in the swirl of emotions she was clearly trying to contain. Krishna's smile faded just slightly, his fingers gently caressing her cheek, wiping away the remnants of her tears. "Well, I can't stay here, Sweetie," he continued softly, his voice more serious now, though still filled with warmth. "I have other things to do... like opening your sister's eyes, so she can finally see the truth about Jaidev."

His words, though firm, carried a protective edge, a promise to ensure that the truth would come to light. He leaned in a little closer, his expression softening further as he spoke. "But don't worry," he added, "no one can get to you here without my permission." There was an unspoken assurance in his voice, the kind that made her feel safe, even when everything around them was in chaos.

Krishna paused for a moment, watching Jhanvi closely, sensing the quiet conflict within her. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a second phone, the sleek device catching the light as he handed it to her with a small, reassuring smile. "Here," he said, his voice gentle. "Use this phone. Okay?" His fingers lingered on the device for just a moment longer, as though offering her a piece of his trust.

Jhanvi looked at the phone for a moment, then nodded slowly, a faint trace of a smile playing at the corners of her lips. Krishna's heart softened at the sight, though it quickly hardened again as he reminded himself of the work still left to be done.

He gently cupped her face with both of his hands, his eyes locking with hers. "Now," he said softly, his voice carrying a comforting warmth, "take some rest. I'll come back later, okay?"

Krishna offered Jhanvi one last reassuring smile, his hands lingering on her cheeks for a brief moment. He was about to let go, his gaze soft and filled with understanding, when something unexpected happened.

Jhanvi leaned forward, and before Krishna could process what was happening, her lips brushed against his. It wasn't hesitant—it was bold yet trembling with raw emotion. For a moment, Krishna froze, his usual confidence shaken by the unexpected turn of events. A flicker of surprise crossed his face, but he didn't pull away. Instead, something inside him softened, and his hands instinctively moved to her waist, pulling her closer in a way that was both careful and deliberate, mindful not to disturb the IV line attached to her.

The kiss was tender, unspoken emotions pouring into the moment as if it were the only way Jhanvi could express the chaos swirling inside her heart. Time seemed to stretch, the world outside the hospital room fading into nothingness. When they finally pulled apart, Jhanvi's face was flushed, her breathing uneven. But before she could say anything, tears began to stream down her cheeks again.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean—" she stammered, her voice breaking under the weight of her emotions.

But Krishna silenced her the only way he knew how—by leaning in and kissing her again. This time, the surprise was hers. Her eyes widened for a split second before fluttering closed, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she melted into the kiss. It was different from the first—a quiet reassurance, a silent promise, and a shared understanding of something they couldn't yet name.

When they pulled apart once more, Krishna rested his forehead against hers, his dark eyes gazing into hers with a mix of amusement and warmth. The corner of his lips quirked into a small, playful smile as he whispered, "You know, you're the first woman I've met only a short while ago, and now we've kissed twice. But I have to admit…" His voice dipped into a teasing tone, his grin widening, "You taste pretty good."

Jhanvi's cheeks burned a deep crimson, but this time she didn't look away. Instead, she let out a soft laugh, a mix of embarrassment and relief that the weight of the moment was lifted. "You're impossible," she murmured, wiping at her cheeks as she tried to compose herself.

Krishna couldn't help but chuckle softly as he saw Jhanvi's face flush a deep crimson, her emotions written all over her expression. Her boldness had surprised him, but it also amused him in a way he hadn't expected. He leaned back slightly, still holding her gaze, and said with a teasing smile, "You're quite bold, aren't you? I feel like I'm becoming a scumbag and pervert pretty fast."

Jhanvi's eyes widened, her lips parting slightly as if to protest, but her words caught in her throat. Krishna's smile softened, and his tone became gentler as he continued, "But don't you think this is a little too fast?"

Jhanvi's hands trembled slightly as she clutched the hem of her blanket. Her voice was barely above a whisper as she replied, "I-I'm your fan... and I've really liked you since the first time I saw you on social media…"

Hearing her confession, Krishna let out a quiet sigh, not of annoyance but of understanding. He reached out, his hand gently resting on top of her head, and began to softly ruffle her hair, his touch both comforting and affectionate. "We'll talk about this later," he said warmly, his voice steady and reassuring. "Right now, you need to rest. If you need anything, just call me, okay?"

Jhanvi nodded, her face still bright red, her gaze fixed firmly on the blanket in her lap. Her nervousness was almost endearing, and Krishna couldn't help but smile as he stood up. He glanced at her one last time, noting the way she seemed to curl into herself, shy but content in the moment.

As he turned to leave, he paused by the door and looked back over his shoulder. "Take care, Sweetie," he said softly, his words carrying a warmth that lingered even after he left the room.

Jhanvi watched the door close behind him, her heart pounding in her chest. She brought her hand up to her lips, her face still flushed as she replayed the moment in her mind. Her emotions were a mix of embarrassment, happiness, and an overwhelming sense of disbelief that this was even real.

For the first time in what felt like ages, Jhanvi felt a sense of peace. With a soft sigh, she leaned back against the pillow, her heart still racing but her mind finally calm enough to rest.

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[KRISHNA'S POV]

The morning sun filtered through the worn wooden shutters of the ashram's living room, casting golden streaks across the tiled floor. I sat cross-legged on the old but comfortable couch, a plate of breakfast balanced in one hand while my other hand rested on the remote. The TV blared in front of me, showing a grainy CCTV footage from last night. The headlines were dramatic, as always:

"High-Speed Car Chase: CM's Daughter Allegedly Kidnapped!"

Of course, they were talking about me. The footage showed my car weaving through the streets, outmaneuvering Jaidev's goons like it was some action thriller. But seeing it replayed on every channel made me sigh in frustration. It was 11 in the morning, and I hadn't had a moment's peace since I returned from the hospital.

After a quick shower, I had collapsed into bed, hoping for a few hours of blissful sleep. That hope was short-lived. My phone had rung incessantly—family, friends, and even distant acquaintances calling to say the same thing: "Krishna, you're on the news! Did you really kidnap the CM's daughter?"

I mean, technically, yes. But what was I supposed to say? "Oh, don't worry, I kidnapped her to save her from a bigger threat"? Not exactly a comforting response.

So, I stuck to vague reassurances, muttering things like, "Everything's fine, don't believe everything you see on TV," before cutting the calls short. By the time the barrage of phone calls ended, my head was pounding.

Now, here I was, slouched on the couch, watching the chaos unfold on-screen with a amusement. My breakfast—a simple plate of poha and a cup of steaming chai—had been delivered by none other than Brahma, who sat beside me with his own plate.

As I took a bite of my poha, the sound of the anchor's voice on the news caught my attention. Her tone was sharp, the kind they reserve for big stories meant to stir public outrage.

"Last night, an unidentified individual infiltrated the residence of the late CM PKR, bypassing tight security measures, and kidnapped his daughter, Miss Jhanvi. This shocking incident comes just two days after the tragic loss of CM PKR. People are questioning how such a breach could occur under heavy surveillance."

The anchor continued, her words cutting deeper with each passing second.

"Sources report that no ransom demands have been made, according to Mr. Jaidev. However, the twist in this story comes from ACP Indrajeet's latest statement. The vehicle used in the escape—spotted on CCTV—belongs to none other than Mr. Krishna, a well-known figure who recently attended CM cremation in the same car."

"Even more alarming," the anchor pressed on, her voice rising slightly, "is the claim that the alleged kidnapper opened fire on security personnel, resulting in fatalities. These accusations raise serious questions about Mr. Krishna, one of the most powerful and influential figures in India today. Is he truly behind this brazen act?"

The camera cut to a somber picture of Jhanvi, her face framed by the words "Kidnapped: Mystery Deepens." Below it, smaller text scrolled by, mentioning my name alongside words like "suspect," "criminal allegations."

The news anchor's words took a sharp turn, shifting focus to the storm brewing online.

"Social media is in an uproar," she reported, her voice tinged with urgency. "Fans of Mr. Krishna have rallied behind him, vehemently denying the possibility of his involvement in such a heinous act. Many are accusing the Andhra Pradesh police of corruption, claiming the allegations against Mr. Krishna are baseless and politically motivated. The hashtag #JusticeForKrishna is trending nationwide, with supporters demanding clarity and fairness."

I smirked slightly, leaning back against the couch as I reached for my chai. The tea had gone lukewarm, but the bitter-sweet flavor somehow complemented the chaos I was watching unfold on screen.

"However," the anchor continued, "ACP Indrajeet has released a statement saying that an arrest warrant for Mr. Krishna is imminent. According to him, Krishna will be brought in for questioning regarding his alleged involvement in the case. When pressed about the accusations raised by Krishna's supporters, the police declined to provide a clear response."

Beside me, Brahma stiffened, his jaw tightening as he muttered, "Indrajeet's really pushing his luck. Does he even have anything solid on you?"

I took another bite of poha, chewing slowly as my eyes remained glued to the TV. "Solid? Not even close. He's grasping at straws, hoping to use public outrage to back me into a corner."

The anchor's next words brought a flicker of amusement to my face. "In an unexpected turn, Miss Satyapriya, Jhanvi's elder sister, has remained silent on the matter. Many are curious about her stance on the allegations and whether she believes there is any truth to them. Could her silence suggest doubt, or is it simply too early to speculate?"

I let out a quiet laugh, a soft chuckle that felt almost detached from the chaos unfolding. Brahma raised an eyebrow at me, his expression incredulous.

"You're laughing? They're practically declaring war on you on national television."

I shrugged, popping another bite into my mouth. "Let them. Half the country's hating me; the other half is defending me. Either way, I've got their attention." I waved my fork dismissively. "Besides, Satyapriya's silence says more than her words ever could. She's a smart woman—she knows I'm not the villain in this story."

Brahma shook his head, muttering under his breath, "You're impossible."

The TV continued blaring, the anchor now diving into speculation about potential political conspiracies, but I tuned it out. I focused on my breakfast instead, finishing the last few bites with a calmness that felt almost defiant. Let the world argue and bicker. They could speculate, point fingers, and make noise all they wanted.

The sudden cacophony from outside caught both Brahma and me off guard. It wasn't just a few murmurs or a stray voice—it was loud, insistent, and growing more chaotic by the second.

Brahma, ever the serious one, turned sharply and called out, "Reddy! What's going on out there?" His voice was authoritative, carrying the weight of a man who was used to being in control.

Reddy appeared almost instantly, wiping his hands on a towel as if he'd just been interrupted from another task. His expression was laced with concern as he said, "Bhaiyya, the media's outside. There's a crowd forming at the gate, shouting your name and demanding to see you and Krishna Bhai. They're not leaving anytime soon."

I let out a low sigh, setting my now-empty plate on the table. Rubbing the back of my neck, I turned to Brahma with a faint, almost mischievous smile tugging at my lips. "Well," I said casually, "looks like we've got an audience. Let's not keep them waiting."

Brahma frowned, his brows knitting together in disapproval. "Are you sure about this? The media isn't here to play games. They're looking for blood."

"And that," I replied, my grin widening, "is exactly why this is going to be fun."

Brahma rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath about my recklessness. I ignored him, already heading toward the door. The excitement buzzing in the air was almost tangible. They wanted answers? Fine. I'd give them something to talk about.

(A/N: If you'd like to support me, please use this UPI: omgadekar29@oksbi "Om Gadekar". If you do, please let me know your webnovel name so I can recognize you.)

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