Arsh:

The door clicked shut behind me, the cold, unyielding echo reverberating through the quiet hallway. My body was still taut with frustration, every nerve alight with the kind of tension that only she could create.

The audacity.

She had the nerve to push me away, after everything? After I had saved her life again - and let her unravel in my arms like she was mine. Like she wanted to be mine.

I clenched my fists, my jaw tight as I stalked down the hallway toward another room. Each step echoed with the weight of my anger, a futile attempt to shake off the way her body had felt against mine, the sound of her voice breaking as she had fallen apart on my fingers.

This was a game to her. A test. And damn it, she had won.

I slammed my door shut behind me, leaning back against the solid wood as I dragged a hand through my hair. Her scent lingered on my skin, a haunting reminder of what she had taken without giving anything back. I needed to hate her for it.

For stripping me out of my control even through I was fully dressed and she was the one without any clothes on.

Instead, I replayed her word in my mind, again and again.

A single word and she had won the game I didn't realise we were playing.

"Leave."

My lip curled at the memory. She didn't realize was that I had already let her in too deep.

I pushed off the door, pacing the room as I tried to rid myself of the lingering ache. My hands itched to grab something, break it, let the chaos inside me out. But nothing would fix this. Nothing would dull the edge of her absence.

Because despite everything - despite the hatred I clung to, the reasons I reminded myself of every day - I wanted her out of my system and I needed to fuck that denial out of her.

And she fucking knew it.

I stared at the reflection in the mirror, my eyes dark and stormy. This wasn't who I was supposed to be. Desperate.

The mirror reflected a man on the brink - wild eyes, clenched jaw, and a storm brewing beneath the surface. My fingers gripped at the palms, knuckles white, as I fought for control.

She had managed to tear down my walls, leaving me raw and exposed.

I shouldn't have let her come. Had I known she had the control deep inside her to resist me, I wouldn't have let her that orgasm but I fucking missed.

And that sweet little siren fucking tricked me.

A sharp knock on the door broke through the haze. I straightened and stepped away from the mirror as Vyom's voice filtered through the wood.

"Arsh, we have got the assassin in the interrogation room," he said, his tone clipped, all business.

I exhaled sharply, running a hand through my hair before replying, "I will be there in half an hour."

A pause, then the faint sound of retreating footsteps. Good. I needed time.

Turning toward the bathroom, I shed my shirt and let it fall to the floor before stepping into the shower. The cold water hit me like a slap, shocking my system, dragging me back to reality.

She had left me on edge, every nerve screaming for release. My hands braced against the tiled wall, head bowed under the icy stream as I fought against the hold she had on me.

This wasn't about need. It was about control - control I had handed to her on a silver platter. And she had wielded it with devastating precision.

I gritted my teeth, my body tense as the water slided over me, washing away the heat and the ache she had left behind. But it couldn't wash away the memory of her - her breathy moans, the way she had melted in my arms, only to shove me away like it meant nothing.

My fingers curled into fists. She thought she could push me to the edge and leave me hanging, that I had walk away and forget the way she made me feel.

No.

This wasn't over.

By the time I stepped out of the shower, the fire inside me had been replaced by a cold, hard resolve. I dried off, dressed quickly, and strode toward the interrogation room.

The assassin was waiting, and I had questions that needed answers.

But first, I needed to rid myself of the lingering chaos she had left behind.

Because the next time I saw her, I wouldn't let her win.

The interrogation room was cold, the kind of chill that seeped into your bones and refused to leave. My knuckles flexed and curled as I stood at the edge of the table, staring down at her. The assassin. The woman who dared aim a gun at Aira - my wife.

Aira.

I claimed to hate her, reminded myself of that every day. She was the daughter of my enemy, a pawn in a game that I had orchestrated. But when I saw that gun glinting under the moonlight, aimed at her, my body moved before I could think. I didn't even realize I had shoved her into the pool and the laser had been pointed on me.

The same Aira who an hour ago stripped me off my control just like that.

The assassin made a mistake, she should have shot me when gotten the chance but I guess I was never the target.

Doesn't matter, going for my wife was even a bigger mistake.

And now here she was. The assassin.

Her wrists were cuffed to the chair, but her posture was defiant. Short hair framed a face smeared with dirt and blood that was slowly being wasjed away by the drops of water dripping over her face.

That was both mine and Vyom's way of slow torture. The best way to break a person when you want answers.

Her dark eyes were scanning the room like she was already plotting her escape. She looked too young to be in this world, but I knew better than to let appearances deceive me.

And her recognition alone as one of the best assassin's out there was enough to keep me on alert around a twenty somehwat years old woman.

Vyom stood behind me, arms crossed, his presence as imposing as ever. He wasn't the type to waste words, and his silent glare spoke volumes - the reason he was my right hand man.

And he proved me right by catching the assassin as soon as I texted him about her being present at the event.

I could feel his restraint, as well as mine.

She was a girl. Too young to be in this world.

But It wouldn't stop us from getting answers.

Vyom tried and no, he doesn't just try. He gets answers and yet his glares weren't enough to break her.

I leaned forward, resting my hands on the table. "Name."

She didn't flinch. Didn't blink. Her lips curled into the faintest hint of a smirk. "Shouldn't you already know that?"

That was the problem. There was barely anything about this girl anywhere, other than the organization she work for.

Vyom moved from the wall, his boots heavy against the concrete floor as he approached. "This isn't a game," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "You tried to kill the his wife. You think we will let that slide?"

Her smirk faltered for a fraction of a second. "I was doing my job."

"Your job?" My voice was sharp, slicing through the air. "And who gave you that job? Who sent you to her?"

I didn't mean the organization.

She hesitated. That hesitation was all I needed to confirm one thing - there was something holding her back more than her death.

"I don't know."

I slammed my fist on the table, the sound echoing in the small room. Her shoulders stiffened, but she didn't flinch.

"Try again," I said, my voice ice-cold. "Who hired you?"

Her eyes met mine, unflinching. "I don't know," she repeated. "It came through the organization - Yakuzas. A name, a picture, and a time. That's all I was given."

"Liar." Vyom's growl made her flinch this time. He leaned down, his face inches from hers. "You expect us to believe that you don't know who sent you? That you don't ask questions before pulling the trigger?"

Her jaw tightened. "I ask the questions I am allowed to ask. If I don't follow orders, my family dies. That's the world you live in, isn't it? Power. Leverage. You of all people should understand."

I stared at her, assessing every detail. Her words had weight - truth, even. But that didn't excuse her actions.

"And you thought killing Aira would solve your problems?" I asked, my voice low, measured.

"I thought surviving would solve my problems."

I exchanged a glance with Vyom. Her answer wasn't what I expected. There was something else here, a deeper thread.

"Who is holding your family?" Vyom asked, his tone still sharp but less biting. After all someone once held his family against him as well.

She hesitated again, her fingers tightening into fists. "None of your concerns."

"Convenient." I stepped closer, looming over her. "You have got one chance to convince me not to hand you over to Vyom. And trust me, once I say, he won't care that you are young, or that you are scared."

"I am not scared." She snarled despite her trembling figure.

"Who gave the orders?"

Her breathing quickened, the first crack in her composure. "I. Don't. Know."

The silence that followed was deafening. My patience was running thin, and Vyom was watching me carefully, waiting for my next move.

"Then what do you know?" I asked, my voice a deadly whisper.

She swallowed hard, her gaze dropping for the first time. "I know it's connected to the Agnihotris." she said quietly.

Aira's family?

The name hit me like a sledgehammer. My grip on the table tightened. "What connection?"

"I don't know." Her voice was stronger now, her defiance returning. "But they wanted her dead. They said she was a the first step to your ruin."

Aira.

My jaw clenched as I processed her words. Someone had gone through the trouble of hiring an assassin through an underground organization, risking exposure and retaliation. This wasn't random.

Does she simply mean Aira being their family as connection?

I turned to Vyom. "Keep her here, and find out everything you can. She is not leaving until I get answers."

He nodded, stepping forward to turn turn the water dripping over her face.

As the water started pouring over her, she looked at me, her eyes burning with something I couldn't quite place. "You think she is being protected?" she said, her voice laced with venom. "If you don't figure out who is behind this, they will send someone else. And next time, they won't miss."

I said nothing, turned around and walked out of the room, leaving her alone with Vyom.

The door slammed shut behind me, and I was left alone in the suffocating silence.

Aira.

I do hate her. Not the way I should. And that terrified me more than anything else.

But if death was hers, then it shall be mine.

Because I am the only one who can have her.

But what does her being targeted has anything to do with the Agnihotris?

Does someone wants her dead because she is an Agnihotri?

That's merely possible because Aira wears my name and no one will dare to mess with the Oberois unless they want death delivered to their plates.

The door behind me creaked open, and Vyom stepped out into the dimly lit corridor. He paused, his sharp gaze falling on me as I stood there, lost in thought. My fists were clenched, my body taut with an anger I couldn't quite name.

He stepped closer, his presence steady, "Do you doubt anyone, Arsh?" his tone was calm but probing.

I glanced at him, my jaw tightening as a recent memory hit me. "Mr. Agnihotri didn't seem to care that much about his granddaughter when he visited me."

Vyom's brows furrowed, and he shifted his weight, his unease barely concealed. "You mean... the Agnihotris want her dead?"

Vyom took a step forward, his face taut with thought. "Because if the enemy held a grudge against the Agnihotris, then wouldn't targeting someone from the family be easier than targeting the one under my care?"

The words hung in the air, heavy with implication. I let the silence linger before answering, my voice cutting through like a blade. "You are right. Coming after what's mine doesn't sounds so sane. Someone is trying to kill two birds with a stone."

He hesitated, his gaze locking with mine. "You mean, Someone wants her dead because now she is a part of the Oberois?"

A dark smile tugged at the corner of my mouth, humorless and cold. "Hm, that leaves me responsible for her death and ruins all my future plan for my little wolf."

That wasn't happening because Vijay Agnihotri was yet to be brought on his knees.

"No one knows about the meeting yet. Do they?" Vyom asked, his brow arched in question as I gave him a nod.

No one knew of my meeting with Vijay Agnihotri yet and I was planning to keep it to myself until this puzzle was solved.

𐙚⋆°🦢.⋆ᥫ᭡

F

lashback:

Arsh:

The man sitting across from me was nothing more than a relic, a rotting vestige of an empire long past its prime. Vijay Agnihotri fancied himself a king, but to me, he was a hollow figurehead clinging to the illusion of power.

He lit a cigar with the precision of someone who thrived on appearances. The acrid smoke curled around him, a cheap imitation of menace. I sat back, letting the silence stretch, refusing to give him the satisfaction of speaking first.

The only reason I was not killing him was because of Adhikrit bhai but the moment he agrees, I am killing him with my bare hands.

"You have been busy," he said finally, his voice like gravel, grating and unpleasant. "Afterall presenting a forced marriage as a normal one can't be that easy."

I smirked, the corner of my mouth tilting upward as I met his gaze. "Forced?" I echoed, my tone mocking. "Let's not pretend you are here to care for your granddaughter after two years of the marriage and one month of her living with us old man."

His eyes narrowed, the flicker of anger in them almost satisfying. "You think you have won the game because you have dragged my granddaughter into this farce of a marriage? You think that makes you untouchable?"

"I don't think, Mr. Agnihotri." I said, leaning forward, my voice sharp as a blade. "I know. And let's not forget - you came to me."

His lips pressed into a thin line, his knuckles whitening as he gripped his cane. The mask of calm he wore was slipping, and I reveled in it.

"You have enemies," he said, his voice cold. "More than you realize. I could destroy you with a single word, expose you for the manipulative bastard you are."

I laughed, low and dark, leaning back in my chair. "Destroy me? You overestimate yourself. You are a name, a fading legacy propped up by empty threats and old money. You don't have what it takes to bring me down, Mr. Agnihotri."

His gaze sharpened, the weight of his age-old pride bearing down on me like a challenge. "Maybe I don't, but My granddaughter certainly do."

I could already see the tires turning in his head. He thinks he can use Aira against me. Wrong move Agnihotri. "Your grand daughter is nothing but a prisoner in my care. I can snap her neck the moment I desire." I said, my voice even, masking the feelings simmering beneath.

She was a prisoner, but snapping her neck was out of options - even for me.

"But you indeed have got some nerve to come to me knowing very well how badly I am out for you blood."

A smile curved his thin lips, cold and devoid of warmth. "Nerve? No, my boy, I would call it strategy. You have done something quite remarkable, after all. Forcing a marriage with my granddaughter? That takes... guts."

The corner of my mouth twitched, but I didn't let the smirk break free. "Is that why I am here? To discuss my 'guts'? Because I assure you, I don't have the patience for your talks."

He leaned forward, steepling his fingers, his eyes narrowing. "You are a smart man, which is why I will get straight to the point. You have put me in a difficult position, one that could easily spiral into scandal should the truth come to light. But..." His voice trailed off, his gaze sharp as a blade. "I am willing to offer you a solution."

I know of his 'difficult position' and I forced Aira into this marriage because I wanted him exactly where he stands now.

No one understands why the Agnihotris have developed a relationship with Oberois despite being their enemies.

"And what might that be?" I asked, my tone bored.

"A deal," he said simply, as though that word alone could change the course of my life.

I raised an eyebrow, showing disinterest. "I am listening."

"You get to keep your precious little secret," he began, his voice smooth as silk, "The secret of your marriage to Aira stays buried where it belongs. In return, you will ensure my interests are... prioritized. And you will stop messing with my business."

So he was here to save his business rather than asking about his granddaughter, he was asking me to keep his deals off my list and not to ruin them.

A laugh escaped me, cold and humorless. "So, let me get this straight. You are offering to hide the fact that I forced my marriage to your granddaughter - the same marriage you despise amd want it to be over - in exchange for my support? Do you hear yourself?"

His smile faltered for a fraction of a second, but it was enough. "Think carefully, boy," he said, his voice hardening. "A scandal of this magnitude could ruin you. Your enemies would tear you apart, your alliances crumble. And let's not forget Aira. Do you think she would walk away unscathed?"

So he knew this will harm his granddaughter as well and yet.

My jaw tightened, the mention of her name sending a spike of anger through me. "Leave her out of this."

"My granddaughter is already in this," he countered, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smirk. "You dragged her into this mess when you married her. I am merely offering a way to clean it up."

I laughed again, the sound bitter and cutting. "You really think you are in a position to bargain with me? Let me spell it out for you, Mr. Agnihotri. I don't need you to bury the truth. I don't need you at all."

His face darkened, his fingers tightening around his cane. "You arrogant little..."

I stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor as I towered over him. "Careful," I warned, my voice low and lethal. "You don't get to raise your voice at me. Not here. Not ever."

His mouth opened, but whatever retort he had died in his throat. I stepped closer, my gaze locked on his, unflinching.

"You came to me because you know the truth," I continued. "You are nothing. Your power, your reputation - it's dust, ready to blow away at the first strong wind. And me?" I leaned down, my voice a cold whisper. "I am the storm."

The silence between us was deafening, the weight of my words hanging in the air like a guillotine.

"You will regret this," he said finally, his voice trembling ever so slightly.

"Perhaps," I said, straightening. "But not today. And certainly not because of you."

His hands trembled as he rose from the chair. The air in the office was thick with tension, and for the first time, his age seemed to weigh heavily on him.

He adjusted his coat with deliberate slowness, a futile attempt to regain the dignity I had stripped away. "Your game will be over sooner than you realize." he muttered, his voice carrying a faint edge of desperation.

I smirked, leaning against my desk, arms crossed. "I will wait for the day since you have already lost it."

His lips pressed into a thin line, and he turned toward the door. The sound of his shoes tapping against the floor echoed in the room, each step a reminder of his retreat. When he reached the door, he paused, one hand resting on the handle.

"You think you have won, but storms don't last forever," he said, his voice low but shaking with barely contained frustration. "One day, someone will bring you to your knees. Amd I will live to see it."

I chuckled darkly, pushing off the desk and taking a step forward. "You can hope all you want, Mr. Agnihotri. But until that day comes, remember this - I don't bow. And I certainly don't kneel."

He glanced over his shoulder, his expression a mixture of anger and defeat, before yanking the door open. The moment he stepped out, I heard him bark orders to one of his man waiting outside.

The once powerful man who had strutted into my domain has now diminished, merely a shadow of his former self.

Flashback over

𐙚⋆°🦢.⋆ᥫ᭡

M

y wife seemed to be delusional like her grandfather. She thought she could keep me at bay, shield herself with her stubborn pride. How adorably naïve.

"Vyom," I called out, grasping his attention to myself.

"Yes, Arsh?"

I tapped my foot on the ground, deliberately drawing out the moment. "Can you arrange flowers for me?"

His brow arched slightly, but he said nothing. "At this time?"

It was almost 1 p.m.

I chuckled, low and dark. "Why not? Midnight is as good a time as any for... surprises."

Even if I was taken aback at the mention of the term 'Surprise' from me, he didn't question it.

"What kind of flowers?"

"All kinds. Roses, lilies, tulips, daisies - whatever is available." I walked to the window and gazed out at the moonlit garden below. "And have them delivered to Aira's room. I want her space bursting with color, fragrance... life."

Vyom hesitated, which was unusual for him but so was my demand. "All of them? That's quite a variety."

I turned to face him, my smirk widening. "Yes, Vyom. All of them. Make it beautiful, extravagant. Don't spare any effort."

He nodded, though his expression betrayed a hint of confusion. "It will be done."

As he turned to leave, I added, "Oh, and Vyom?"

He paused at the door, glancing back. "Yes, Arsh?"

"Ensure it's done before dawn. I want her to wake up to it and by that I mean, she should be in deep sleep when the room is being decorated."

He inclined his head and disappeared into the shadows.

Alone again, I let out a soft laugh. The thought of Aira waking up in her room, her eyes widening at the sight of flowers everywhere... it was perfect.

Anyone will think it is an olive branch, a gesture of apology or affection. But it isn't.

And Aira knows that best.





Well, Maine bola tha you all will be abusing him the very next chapter as well 😔

Itni gaaliya mat Dena abhi agle chapter ke lie bachani thodi 🙂‍↔️

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BTW aap logo ko Vyom kaisa lgta? 🪞