Chapter 216: Meeting Akansha in mall
**Alka Mall, 12:15 p.m.**
Rohit stepped out of the cab, paid the driver, and tilted his head back to take in the towering glass façade of Alka Mall. This was his second visit in two weeks—third, if he counted the quick stop at the parking lot last Sunday.
For someone who had always avoided malls like a bad habit in his old memories, the place was starting to feel disturbingly familiar.
That was the problem. If someone who had known the old Rohit happened to see him now, they might begin to doubt everything about the person he had become.
He pushed through the revolving doors, the cool blast of air-conditioning hitting him like a slap. Without breaking stride, he pulled out his phone and dialed Akanksha again.
The phone rang once but was abruptly cut off.
A second later, his phone vibrated.
[Akanksha: Third floor. Zara showroom. Two bodyguards are following me everywhere. You can see me from a distance, but don’t approach me directly.]
Rohit’s lips twitched. ’Seriously?’
She had urged him out of school halfway through the day only to tell him to stay away.
A bitter chuckle almost escaped him. Shouldn’t she have figured out how to lose her shadows before calling this a "life-and-death" emergency?
Swallowing his irritation, he pocketed the phone and glanced toward the upper levels. The bold Zara logo was easy to spot.
As he moved toward the escalator, however, something else began to prickle at his senses.
People were staring.
Curious glances. Frowns. An elderly couple even leaned in to whisper as they passed. Rohit paused in front of a store’s reflective glass and studied his own reflection—crisp white school shirt, maroon coat and tie, regulation trousers and shoes.
Right.
A schoolboy wandering a mall in the middle of a weekday was bound to draw eyes. He clicked his tongue in annoyance.
Five minutes later, he emerged from a nearby denim store transformed: light jacket over a plain T-shirt, and comfortable blue jeans. The shoes were a mismatch though but atleast doable for now.
Artwork.
The staff had agreed to hold his school uniform and bag until he returned.
’Much better,’ he thought, checking his reflection once more in the passing glass.
On the third floor, he spotted Akanksha before he even reached the Zara entrance.
Artwork.
She stood just outside the showroom, pretending to scroll through her phone. Her outfit was deliberately understated—a simple pastel salwar suit instead of her usual stylish western wear, a shopping bag dangling from one arm. A careful disguise.
The moment her eyes met his, raw relief flashed across her face. It vanished almost instantly, replaced by tight caution. She shifted her gaze meaningfully to the side.
Rohit followed without turning his head.
Two men.
They lingered several meters away, poorly pretending to browse nearby displays while keeping Akanksha firmly in their sights.
One was bald and broad-shouldered, an unbuttoned shirt revealing a thick gold chain glinting against his chest.
The other had a heavy beard and a prominent beer belly. He leaned lazily against the railing, chewing gum with open disinterest while his eyes roamed shamelessly over Akanksha.
They didn’t look like professionals — more like hired street thugs than real bodyguards.
Rohit’s phone vibrated again.
[Akanksha: Please get me out of here. I’ve tried everything. They won’t leave me alone. They’re like leeches.]
The corner of his mouth lifted in dark amusement. ’So this was her emergency?’
For a fleeting second, he almost laughed. Then his gaze returned to the two men, and the smile died.
No. These two idiots weren’t the real problem.
The real problem was that the Mittals had never cleared Akanksha of suspicion in Jayesh’s death. Until they did, she would remain under constant surveillance—watched like a prisoner in her own life. And anyone who interacted with her during this period would inevitably fall under the same shadowy investigation.
Under the given situation, if she had something truly confidential to tell him, there was zero chance she could speak freely with these leeches attached to her.
Something had to be done.
Rohit’s eyes swept across the bustling third floor—families, couples, children, long queues snaking outside popular stores. Nothing immediately useful.
Then his eyes settled on the glowing PVR Cinemas sign at the far end of the floor.
A steady stream of people was entering through the security checkpoint while another crowd queued before the ticket counters.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
An idea took shape almost immediately.
He lowered his head and typed a reply.
[Rohit: Stay where you are. Don’t move until I message you again.]
Without wasting another second, he walked toward the multiplex.
The electronic display above the ticket counter listed the ongoing shows. The next screening, a South Indian action film, was scheduled to begin in five minutes.
The title meant nothing to him.
He only cared about gaining access.
He stepped up to the counter.
"One ticket for the next show."
The attendant turned the seating layout toward him.
The auditorium was roughly half occupied—busy enough that no one would notice two additional people, yet spacious enough to avoid unnecessary attention.
Exactly what he wanted.
Rohit studied the layout for a moment before selecting the last two seats in the corner of an upper row. After a brief pause, he booked the two adjacent seats as well.
The four-seat block ensured they would have complete privacy while still remaining close enough to either exit if they needed to leave midway through the screening.
After completing the payment, the digital tickets appeared on his phone.
He forwarded one of them to Akanksha along with another message.
Meanwhile, outside the Zara showroom, Akanksha frowned as she watched Rohit walk away without another glance.
"...What’s he doing?"
Her phone vibrated.
It was his earlier message telling her to wait.
With nothing else to do, she leaned casually against the railing, pretending to browse her phone while secretly tracking Rohit’s movements through the reflection on the screen.
A minute later, she saw him stop before the PVR ticket counter.
Her eyebrows rose.
"Is he... buying movie tickets?"
Another notification arrived.
She opened it.
A digital cinema ticket.
For a brief second, her thoughts wandered elsewhere.
’A movie...? Just the two of us...?’
The corners of her lips began to rise.
Then another message appeared beneath it.
[Rohit: Enter exactly five minutes after me. Use this ticket. Meet me at the assigned seat.]
Her smile immediately stiffened.
"...Of course."
She let out a quiet sigh.
"What else was I expecting..."
Still...
She couldn’t deny that the plan was surprisingly clever.
A few minutes later, Akanksha glanced toward the two men who had been shadowing her throughout the afternoon.
Without saying a word, she began walking toward the multiplex entrance.
As expected, both men straightened and followed several steps behind.
She joined the short queue at the entrance checkpoint and presented the QR code on her phone.
The security guard scanned it before stepping aside.
"Enjoy the movie, ma’am."
"Thank you."
She walked through the entrance without looking back.
Only after taking several steps inside did she hear raised voices behind her.
"Sir, your ticket please."
"We’re with her," the bald man replied impatiently, pointing toward Akanksha’s retreating figure. "You already let her in."
"I’m sorry, sir. She only presented one ticket."
"There has to be some mistake."
"There isn’t."
The guard remained polite but firm.
"Every visitor must possess an individual ticket before entering."
The bearded man clicked his tongue.
"You can ask her. She definitely has ours."
"I’m afraid I can’t do that, sir. You’ll have to purchase your own tickets."
The bald man cursed under his breath.
"You’ve got to be kidding me."
"Rules are rules, sir."
Akanksha slowed her steps just enough to glance back.
The two men noticed her immediately.
"Hey! Tell them we’re with you!"
She merely blinked at them with innocent confusion before turning around and continuing inside the multiplex.
The curses that followed echoed faintly behind her.
A small smile finally appeared on her face.
They had been hired to keep watch over her—not to dictate where she could or couldn’t go.
Missing her inside the cinema was entirely their own problem.
She checked the ticket once more.
[Screen 3.
Row G. Seat 33.]
The auditorium lights were already dimmed by the time she entered.
Advertisements played across the massive screen while scattered conversations filled the hall.
She walked slowly along the numbered row until a faint light flashed twice from the corner.
Rohit.
He had already taken his seat.
The three surrounding seats remained empty.
She slipped into the row and sat beside him, unable to hide her admiration.
"That was brilliant," Akanksha whispered, clearly impressed. "How did you think of this so quickly?"
Rohit kept his eyes fixed on the screen, his expression calm but focused.
"They’ll eventually buy tickets and come inside," he replied quietly. "But by the time they find this auditorium, locate our seats, and reach us without drawing attention... we’ll have enough time. However, that time is limited. It’s not infinite. So let’s not waste it." His voice dropped even lower. "Speak."
Akanksha looked at him for a moment, a soft smile touching her lips. "I have to admit... I’m impressed. You can really think that far ahead." Her voice turned sarcastic as she let out a quiet, mocking laugh. "Yet you gave such a long speech."
Rohit finally turned toward her, his gaze steady and cold. "Stop it. I don’t have time for your little tricks. Tell me why you urged me to come here claiming it was a matter of life and death... or I’m leaving."
Akanksha pouted slightly. "Fine. Honestly... I only wanted to see you."
Rohit sighed, already sensing where this was going. Another one of her emotional nitpicks, he thought.
But Akanksha wasn’t done.
Despite her light complaint, she shifted into a more serious posture. The smile faded from her face completely, replaced by visible tension.
"However... I called you because it really is urgent," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "And it truly is a matter of life and death. Because it’s related to my husband."