My Soulmate

My Soulmate – Chapter 4: She dreamed of him for five years. Now, he’s standing at her door, and reality may be more dangerous than fantasy. He knows I’m awake—and he’s not letting me go without answers.

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My Soulmate – Blurb: What happens when your dream love collides with reality?
My Soulmate – Chapter 1: The Man in My Dreams. He was never supposed to have a face. Now, I can’t forget it.
My Soulmate – Chapter 2: When Your Dream Guy Chases You Back and Love Finds a Face
My Soulmate – Chapter 3: The Hunt Begins of Love, Life, and Her
My Soulmate – Chapter 4: Trapped in His World. Was it Ever Love or just a Never-ending Nightmare?

My Soulmate – Chapter 4: Trapped in His World. Was it Ever Love or just a Never-ending Nightmare?

Before you start reading this, I hope you have read CHAPTER 3.

My Soulmate – Chapter 3: The Hunt Begins of Love, Life, and Her

Mihika

I fanned my face, but the sweat wouldn’t stop. The air-conditioner groaned as I jabbed the button again—still nothing. Just a puff of warm air, mocking me. Perfect. Of all the times for it to break, it had to be now. My skin burned, my heart pounded, and the heat only made it worse. I needed to cool down, but no amount of cold air could touch the fire raging inside me. Yet, I had to try.

Was I hyperventilating? No, I was getting pressure cooked. Oh my God… he existed.

My legs wobbled as I stumbled toward the kitchen. Not that it was far—my entire apartment was barely a few steps wide. A single room that doubled as my living and sleeping space. During the day, my sofa pretended to be a couch. At night, it unfolded into a queen-sized bed that felt too big for someone like me—someone who never had company. My kitchen? A narrow strip where you couldn’t fit two people side by side. The bathroom, tucked behind it, was smaller still.

The space was small, but it was my space, and I adored it. I didn’t need more. No one came other than Nicky. She also met outside most of the time, so I was always alone. This place suited my personality, tucked away in a corner where no one came. But it was good. I didn’t need anyone else. I didn’t want anyone else.

Except now… now, my world wasn’t so simple. My dream guy who was supposed to stay in my dreams had stepped out, breaking the rules, and standing in front of me.

I yanked open the freezer, desperate for relief. A bottle of spice mix tumbled out, crashing to the floor in a cloud of turmeric and cumin. I should’ve cared—I usually would—but not today. My only focus was the icy air brushing against my face as I leaned in, breathing it deep, chasing a calm that wouldn’t come.

I closed my eyes and groaned softly, the cold kissing my overheated skin. But nothing could cool the chaos spinning inside me. My mind kept trying to shut it out—to deny it—but my body knew the truth.

He actually existed. Or was I going crazy? Nicky was right. I needed to visit a psychiatrist. But he actually existed.

Not some phantom my imagination had conjured to fill the emptiness. Not a dream stitched together by a lonely brain. No. He had touched me. His fingers had brushed my skin—my face still burned where they lingered—and no dream had ever felt like that.

No dream had ever left me unraveling like this.

Even though my face was stiff now because of the freezing temperature of the freezer, my body still felt scorched. It was melting away. I needed to calm down, or my head would explode, and my heart would shatter.

I slammed the freezer shut, but the cold had already faded, leaving nothing but heat in its place. My entire body hummed, restless and raw. I pressed a hand to my chest, willing my heartbeat to slow. It didn’t.

How was this possible? How did I dream of a man for five years—and then find him standing right there? In the flesh. Staring at me like he knew me. Like he’d been waiting for me too. My heart thudded harder at the memory, a sharp ache twisting low in my stomach.

Was I losing my mind? Was this what insanity felt like?

Maybe Nicky was right. Maybe I really did need to see a psychiatrist. Because no one dreams of a stranger for five years—and then meets them. That’s not how reality works. And yet, there he was. Not a figment of my imagination. Not some shadow my brain conjured to make my lonely nights easier. He was real—flesh and blood—standing right in front of me, with the same sharp jawline, the same dark, burning eyes that seemed to strip me bare without even trying.

I tugged at my hair, hoping the sting would snap me out of this spiral. But one question wouldn’t let go.

If he was real… then what about everything else?

Had I really kissed him?

The thought sent a jolt through my body. My stomach twisted, my skin burned, and my lips—God, my lips—still tingled as if they remembered every brush, every stolen moment. The dreams had always been too vivid, too consuming, but I’d told myself they were just that—dreams. Nothing more. Except… what if they weren’t? What if those stolen kisses—the ones that left me breathless—were as real as the man standing outside that ballroom?

I pressed my fingers against my mouth, as if I could erase the memory. But the heat only deepened, curling low in my stomach, spreading like wildfire. This wasn’t normal. Nothing about this was normal. And the worst part? I didn’t even know if I wanted it to be.

For the first time in years, the emptiness inside me wasn’t so heavy. The silence I had grown used to—relied on—wasn’t so loud. Something had shifted the moment I saw him, and no amount of logic could explain it away.

I backed out of the kitchen, my mind tangled in knots. The air was still heavy, too thick to breathe properly, but the broken air-conditioner wasn’t the problem anymore.

He was out there.

And now that he had found me, I wasn’t sure there was anywhere left to hide.

I collapsed onto my sofa-cum-bed, wrapping my arms around my knees as I rocked gently back and forth. This was my space. My quiet, simple life. I had built this tiny world and guarded it fiercely. I worked from home as a freelancer, kept to myself, and avoided the outside world as much as I could. My clients knew I hated face-to-face interactions. Hell, even Nicky rarely came over.

This place was safe. Predictable. I didn’t need anything—or anyone—beyond these walls.

I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to calm down. Everything will be okay. This was just a bad dream. Tomorrow, I’d wake up, and he would be nothing more than a fading memory. He’d go back to where he belonged—in the shadows of my mind.

I never asked for him to be real. I never asked the universe to bring him to me.

Vihaan Kapoor. Even his name was too perfect. Too dangerous.

The doorbell rang, sharp and jarring, snapping me out of my spiraling thoughts. My breath hitched. Who would come this late? It had to be Nicky. No one else ever showed up. She was probably here to yell at me for sneaking out of the party. I stayed frozen, hoping she’d give up and leave.

But the bell rang again. And again. Louder. Longer. It didn’t stop, a relentless, shrill wail that pierced through the quiet.

I clamped my hands over my ears, but the noise cut through anyway, vibrating inside my skull. She wasn’t going to leave. With a groan, I pushed myself up and stomped to the door. If she wanted to yell, fine—but I wasn’t in the mood for her lectures tonight.

I twisted the knob and yanked the door open, the words already forming on my tongue. But they died the second I saw who was standing there.

Vihaan.

My heart stuttered, and my stomach dropped. Oh, God. How could I be so stupid? Nicky had a spare key. If it were her, she wouldn’t have bothered ringing the bell—she would’ve just walked right in.

His eyes—dark and unreadable—scanned my face as if he was searching for something, and my chest tightened under the weight of his gaze. I tried to slam the door shut, panic curling around my ribs, but he was faster. He slid his leg between the door and the frame, blocking me with ease.

“Please… leave…” My voice trembled, barely louder than a whisper as I pushed against the door with everything I had. But it was useless. He didn’t move an inch.

“Come with me,” he said, his voice low and commanding—like he wasn’t asking.

“No,” I choked out, pushing harder. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

Suddenly I felt dizzy as if my conscious mind was giving up the battle. I had two drinks at the party, but my legs wobbled under his intense gaze.

I should’ve been stronger. I should’ve fought harder. But the room spun around me, my vision blurring at the edges. The heat was getting worse. Or maybe it wasn’t the heat. Maybe it was him—the way his presence filled every inch of space and stole the air from my lungs. My legs wobbled beneath me, the floor tilting like I was walking on waves.

I tried to hold on—to fight—but my body had other ideas.

Everything faded. The sound of the door. The weight of his gaze. Even the panic slipped through my fingers as the darkness crept in. I barely registered the moment I started falling, but I felt the arms that caught me—strong, warm, unyielding.

Vihaan.

I didn’t want to be in his arms. I didn’t trust him. But as my senses slipped away, that deep voice—steady and smooth—was the last thing I heard.

And I wasn’t sure if I wanted to let go.

***

A heavy fog clung to my mind, thick and unrelenting. I felt groggy—like I’d been pulled from the depths of a dream I couldn’t quite shake. My head spun, a dull throb pressing against the back of my skull. Even though I was awake, I wasn’t fully here. Everything felt… distant. As if I were floating just outside my own body.

I tried to move, to lift even a finger, but it felt like too much work. My limbs were useless, heavy with an exhaustion that didn’t make sense. My body wasn’t the problem—my mind was. It felt sluggish, as if someone had wrapped it in layers of cotton, muffling reality.

Was I alone?

The question stirred something uneasy inside me. I needed to sit up—to check if I was hurt—but every muscle refused to cooperate. My skin tingled with a strange awareness, like I was being watched. And then I heard it—a faint rustle, the sound of someone shifting nearby.

I wasn’t alone.

A sharp jolt of panic shot through me, and my heart stuttered.

Was it him? Was Vihaan still here?

I held my breath, straining to listen, and then I heard it—his voice. Low and deep, a rumble that sent shivers skittering down my spine. He was talking to someone, but the words blurred together, distant and hard to catch. Still, that steady hum crawled under my skin, a reminder that this wasn’t some twisted dream.

He was real. He was here.

I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping—praying—that maybe it was Nicky. Maybe she’d found me, and Vihaan was long gone. That would make sense. Men like him didn’t stick around. An unconscious woman meant trouble.

And I was nothing but trouble—everyone had always said so.

That’s why… that’s why they all left.

“How is she?”

His voice cut through the silence like a blade and my hope died. It wasn’t Nicky, it was him. He tone was Smooth. Crisp. Just like it had always been in my dreams. My stomach twisted painfully. How could my mind conjure someone so perfectly—right down to the tone of his voice—and then, against all logic, bring him into my real life?

A soft rustling followed—paper against a clipboard. My heart clenched at the familiar sound. Years of working with documents had tuned my ears to that noise. A doctor. Vihaan had called a doctor.

“Her pulse is normal,” the doctor said, his voice calm and clinical. “I gave her an injection to stabilize her. She should be awake any moment now. It’s likely a panic attack—sometimes triggered by heat, emotional distress, or sudden changes.”

A panic attack. Was that what this was? It made sense—except nothing else did. My mind buzzed with too many questions, too many things that didn’t add up.

“Wake her up,” Vihaan ordered, his tone sharp, unyielding.

I swallowed hard. What was wrong with this man? I wasn’t some machine he could reboot. My body wouldn’t move just because he commanded it. Who the hell did he think he was?

And yet… there was a small, traitorous part of me that wanted to obey. That same part craved his touch—to feel his warmth and let him hold me again, even if I knew better. But I wasn’t in one of my dreams now. This was reality, and reality had no room for foolish desires.

“Um… that’s not how it works,” the doctor replied cautiously. “Her mind needs time. She’ll wake up when she’s ready. Until then, it’s best to let her rest. But I do have to ask, Mr. Kapoor—where did you find her? Do you know her? As her doctor, it’s my responsibility to ensure she’s safe.”

My pulse spiked. I held my breath, waiting—praying—for his answer.

“Are you suggesting she’s not safe with me?” Vihaan’s voice dropped lower, a quiet threat curling beneath his words. It wasn’t loud or aggressive, but it was sharp—razor-edged in a way that made my stomach twist. There was a warning there, hidden beneath the smoothness. One the doctor either didn’t catch—or chose to ignore.

“No… I just…” The doctor’s voice wavered, the fight already slipping out of him.

“She showed up at my door.” Vihaan cut him off, the lie slipping from his mouth so easily it chilled me. “My butler answered, and she fainted. That’s all.”

I went rigid. He was lying. I was at my home, not his. But why? And how did he even know where to find me? My apartment wasn’t the kind of place anyone could just stumble across. You had to know where you were going, and Vihaan Kapoor didn’t strike me as the kind of man who got lost.

The air in the room seemed thicker, pressing down on me, making it harder to think—harder to breathe. None of this was normal. Not the way he’d found me. Not the way he handled the doctor like he was some employee beneath his notice. And definitely not the fact that the man I’d been dreaming about for months—dreaming about—was standing in my apartment, lying without hesitation.

And yet… he’d called a doctor when I collapsed. He could’ve left me there. But he didn’t.

I should’ve opened my eyes. I should’ve demanded answers. But something held me back. If Vihaan was willing to twist the truth, there had to be a reason. And until I knew what that reason was, I was safer right where I was—still, quiet, unseen.

“Um… okay…” The doctor’s hesitation crackled through the silence, uncertain now. At least someone here was nervous. “Yes, a man of your caliber can experience this. Are you sure you cannot call anyone?”

Vihaan exhaled a long, tired breath, the sound of a man quickly losing patience. “Nope. You can leave. I’ll handle her.”

“She should really be under observation—”

“I said I’ll handle it,” he cut in, his tone final. Cold. Like he was used to getting his way.

For a second, I almost felt bad for the doctor. Almost. But that sympathy shriveled up fast when the next words left his mouth.

“Oh… okay. As you wish, Mr. Kapoor. But do you know who she is?”

There was a beat of silence. It stretched too long—too heavy—before Vihaan finally answered. “I may have an idea.”

My heart stuttered. An idea? What the hell did that mean?

The doctor hesitated again, shuffling papers—stalling. “Can you give me her details?”

“No.” Vihaan’s voice snapped like a whip, smooth edges gone. “Her details aren’t required for you.”

I clamped my teeth over my bottom lip to keep from gasping. The Vihaan in my dreams would never speak like that. He was soft—patient. This man? This man was anything but patient.

My stomach twisted as the realization hit. They weren’t the same. Not really. The Vihaan who kissed me so sweetly in my dreams wasn’t the man standing a few feet away from me now. This one was too sharp. Too cold. And he was hiding something—I could feel it.

But maybe I was hiding too. And the longer I kept my eyes shut, the safer I felt.

“See, I know you are a significant man…” The doctor’s voice softened, carefully placating. Good. Keep pushing. Maybe he’ll leave.

“Say whatever you want,” Vihaan drawled, the words dismissive—like nothing the doctor said mattered.

“As her doctor, I need to know she’s not in trouble.”

I held my breath, heart hammering. Yes. Keep going. Don’t let him brush you off.

But Vihaan only laughed softly under his breath, and something about the sound made my skin prickle. “I just came to India,” he said, voice smooth again, as if he hadn’t snapped a second ago. “I know no one. Do I look like a kidnapper to you, Dr. Gupta? My butler opened the door, and she was there. Before she could speak, she fainted. That’s all.”

Liar.

“I know no one,” he continued, “so my assistant suggested you. Said you’re discreet. I’m planning to acquire a hospital here, and I need reliable staff. She thinks I can count on you.”

I could practically feel the doctor melting under the weight of the unspoken promise. Bribe. Vihaan wasn’t even being subtle about it. And worse? It was working.

“Of course,” the doctor said quickly, any concern he had vanishing in the face of opportunity. “I understand completely. I’d be honored to assist in your hospital, Mr. Kapoor.”

“Yes. Whenever it happens, you will be the first to be called.”

My breath hitched in my throat as the sound of the doctor’s footsteps faded into nothing. He left. Just like that—he left me alone with him. And Vihaan? He barely had to try. A few smooth words, a veiled promise, and the doctor folded like a house of cards.

I lay perfectly still, my heart pounding so loud I swore he could hear it. The silence around me felt thicker—heavier—as if the air itself had changed the second the doctor walked out. I tried to control my breathing, keeping it shallow and even, willing myself to disappear beneath the covers. If he thought I was asleep, maybe he’d leave too.

But then came the sound—soft, deliberate. The quiet crunch of his shoes against the floor as he moved. My chest burned with the need for air, but I couldn’t risk it. If he knew I was awake—

“You can stop with your act now.”

His voice sliced through the silence, low and smooth—but there was something else beneath it. Something darker. “The doctor’s gone. Open your eyes, because I know you’re awake.”

My stomach twisted into a knot, panic rising sharp and fast, but I couldn’t play dead forever. Slowly—too slowly—I forced my eyes open. The first thing I saw was his face. Too close. Too sharp. The dim light cast shadows over his jaw, making him look even more dangerous than he sounded.

I turned my head away, heart hammering in my ears, but his fingers wrapped around my chin—warm and firm—as he forced me to face him. My skin prickled beneath his touch. He wasn’t rough, not exactly, but there was no mistaking the control in his grip.

“You’re here now,” he said, his voice quieter, but no less intense. “And I’m not letting you go until I know everything.”

My brows knit together in confusion, heart pounding as his words sank in. What the hell did he mean by everything? What did he think I was hiding? And here? What did that mean?

I tried to look past him, to ground myself in something familiar—but nothing about this place was familiar. The soft brush of the sheets beneath my fingers wasn’t mine. My bed was stiff and worn, but this one felt like a cloud. I scanned the walls—painted a crisp white—where there should’ve been the soft blue of my apartment. And the paintings… I didn’t own paintings.

I wasn’t at home. Oh no… he wasn’t lying about that one. I wasn’t at home. But… how… how was I here?

Panic clawed its way up my throat as my breathing hitched. “Where am I?” I whispered, the words barely audible.

Vihaan’s eyes sharpened, gleaming dark and unreadable. “Where you should have been from the start,” he said smoothly, as if that explained anything. “Now, start talking.”

I shook my head slightly, trying to piece everything together. “What?” My voice felt weak—too fragile for the weight of this moment.

He tilted his head, watching me like I was some kind of puzzle he was determined to solve. “That’s the only way you get to leave,” he said, his tone shifting, softer but no less dangerous. Then he leaned in closer, his next words brushing against my skin like a threat wrapped in silk. “Yes, the doc was right, Mihika. I kidnapped you.”

My stomach dropped.

“But you gave me a scare when you fainted,” he continued, his grip on my chin loosening—but he didn’t let go. His thumb brushed absently along my jaw, like he was grounding himself in the feel of me. “Never do that again.”

His voice caught slightly on those last words, rougher, and when I glanced up, something flickered in his expression—something raw.

“I thought…” He hesitated, jaw clenching as if the admission physically hurt. “I thought I lost you. And… it felt like the end of the world.”

The air left my lungs in a shaky rush. What the hell was he talking about? Lost me? We weren’t even supposed to know each other, and now he was talking like I belonged to him—like the thought of losing me broke him.

I swallowed hard against the fear crawling up my throat, pushing it down as best I could. “Let me go,” I said, my voice steadier than I expected.

His lips curled into a slow, knowing smirk—the kind that sent a shiver racing down my spine. “Once you talk.”

And just like that, every exit slammed shut. I wasn’t leaving until Vihaan Kapoor got what he wanted.

And the terrifying part? I wasn’t even sure I knew what that was.

The End of My Soulmate – Chapter 4.
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