Ishaan stared into Naina's eyes, but all he saw was pure rage. Her eyes, bloodshot and burning with intensity, held nothing but fury. But Ishaan wasn't one to back down either. They were both consumed by anger-his, at the divorce papers she had dared to sign; hers, at his growing obsession.

But beneath all that rage, all Naina could truly feel was pain-the pain of his marks on her body, the silent proof of his dominance, his possessiveness, his inability to let go.

Ishaan moved slowly, his face rising level with her waist as he placed feather-light kisses on her skin, trailing upwards. His lips barely grazed her, but the sensation sent a shiver down her spine.

"Ishaan..." Naina's voice trembled, barely above a whisper.

He didn't stop. Instead, his lips continued their path, making her breath hitch with every kiss.

"Ishaan... stop," she pleaded again, her voice breaking.

This time, he paused, his darkened gaze meeting hers. He stared at her for a long moment before his lips found her collarbone, pressing another deep kiss.

But then, Naina's fingers curled tightly around his shirt collar. With all the strength her trembling hands could gather, she pulled him up, forcing him to look at her. Her tear-filled eyes burned with something raw-anger, pain, helplessness.

"Please," she choked out.

She sniffled, and in an instant, the tears she had been holding back spilled down her cheeks. One after another, they fell, her body shaking with the intensity of her emotions.

For the first time, Ishaan felt something shift inside him. The way she said please-it wasn't just a plea. It was surrender. The kind that only comes when a person has reached their breaking point.

He lowered his head, his breathing heavy as he tried to gather himself. His fingers clenched into fists, fighting an invisible war inside his own mind. He was furious, possessive, unwilling to let go-but above all that, he loved her. And that love, no matter how twisted, was what stopped him.

Letting out a deep breath, he lifted his head and leaned in, nuzzling against her neck. "Why do you keep running from me, Naina?" he whispered, his voice carrying an ache he rarely let show. "Why?"

Naina sniffled, her sobs only growing louder. Her chest heaved as she struggled to control her breath, but the pain in her heart was too much to contain. She had no answer-only more tears.

Ishaan pulled away slightly, watching her fall apart in front of him. He clenched his jaw, his teeth grinding together as if swallowing back his own anger and emotions . And then, in the softest voice, he said, "Sorry."

But Naina only cried harder. She sobbed, her body trembling, her face red and drenched in tears.

Ishaan finally moved back. He let her go, sitting at the edge of the bed, his feet planted on the floor, his gaze fixed on the ground. The sound of her crying filled the room, echoing louder than even the storm outside.

Without a word, he stood up and walked toward the glass door of balcony. Rain poured outside, hitting the ground in heavy drops. He stared at it, his hand resting on the fogg glass, his knuckles turning white.

Truth was, he was hiding. Hiding the storm inside him, hiding the pain, the fear, the desperation that he refused to show. He had never been weak, and he wouldn't start now.

But love... love had its own way of breaking him.

After a moment, he turned back toward the bed. Naina still lay there, staring at the ceiling, tears continuously rolling down her face.

He walked up to her, his heart clenching at the sight of her shattered state. He stand beside her as towering on her, brushing his fingers against her damp cheeks before carefully lifting her into his arms.

She didn't resist. She had no fight left in her.

Holding her close, Ishaan carried her to the couch near the balcony. The rain outside was visible through the glass doors, the storm mirroring the chaos between them.

He pulled her into his embrace, locking his arms around her completely, as if trying to shield her from everything-including himself. He held her tightly, his arms wrapping around her back, his hand pressing against the nape of her neck.

"Stop crying,..... Naina." His voice was barely above a whisper.

But Naina didn't stop. She buried her face into his chest, her sobs muffled against his skin.

Ishaan sighed, pressing her even closer, as if afraid she might slip away.

No matter what happened, he couldn't let her go. Not now. Not ever.

After a while, Naina finally fell silent. Only a few stray tears escaped now and then, trailing down her cheeks. She stared blankly outside the balcony, looking utterly broken.

Ishaan leaned his head back against the couch, his gaze also fixed on the rain. Neither of them spoke. The only sound filling the room was the rhythmic drumming of raindrops against the glass.

After a long pause, Ishaan gently ran his fingers through her hair and whispered, "How does this weather make you feel?" His voice was soft, barely audible.

Naina said nothing. She remained still, lost in thought. But after a moment, her lips parted, and in a quiet, distant voice, she finally replied, "It's beautiful."

Ishaan had been waiting for her response, and the moment she spoke, a sense of relief washed over him. As if her words, no matter how small, meant something-meant that she was still there, still present. He pulled her closer, tightening his arms around her.

After a long silence, Naina sniffled, slowly wiping away her tears before speaking, in a barely-there whisper.

"I was ten when I went to my grandmother's house for a day..."

Ishaan didn't expect her to even say a word but he listened carefully, sensing the weight in her voice. He had no idea what she was about to say, but something in the way she spoke made him feel that it wasn't just a simple story.

"My cousin... she fell because of me, by accident. She got hurt."

Ishaan remained silent, letting her continue.

Her voice grew heavier, almost trembling. "Everyone rushed her to the hospital... I was the only one left behind, alone in the house."

Her fingers, which had been idly playing with the button of his shirt, started twisting it more aggressively now, as if trying to hold onto something-anything. Ishaan watched her hands, feeling something shift inside him.

"Then... someone knocked on the door." Her voice wavered.

Ishaan's body tensed slightly, his grip around her tightening.

"I opened it."

A long pause.

"It was a boy. Much older than me."

Ishaan's breathing slowed. A cold realization crawled over his skin. He didn't know where this was going, but he had a sinking feeling he wouldn't like it. Still, he said nothing. He just let her speak.

"He came inside while I was playing."

Her voice was breaking now, and Ishaan's jaw clenched.

"A while later, he called me over."

Ishaan shut his eyes for a second, already dreading what was coming next.

"And then he..."

She stopped. She couldn't say it. Her throat closed up, and suddenly, the button she had been twisting in her fingers snapped, the fabric thread giving way with a small, sharp sound.

She inhaled shakily, her eyes flickering up to meet his.

"You touched me, Ishaan..." Her voice was quiet, but the pain in it was loud. "It didn't feel wrong."

Ishaan's chest tightened.

Naina's lips trembled, her gaze locked onto his as she whispered, "But when he did it..."

She gulped, trying to hold back the sob bubbling up in her throat.

"It felt disgusting."

Ishaan felt his entire body freeze. His hands, his breath, even his heartbeat-everything came to a stop.

She wasn't crying loudly this time. But the silent pain in her eyes, the way her lips quivered, the way her whole body curled in on itself-he had never seen anything more heartbreaking. A tear slid down her cheek, and she didn't even bother wiping it away.

Ishaan stared at her, completely shaken. Fear. Not for himself. For her.

For the girl who had carried this pain for so long, locked inside her. For the woman sitting in front of him, breaking piece by piece as she relived it.

And for the first time in his life, Ishaan felt something he never expected.

-Helplessness.

Ishaan sat there, staring at Naina as if the air had been knocked out of his lungs. He had seen her angry. He had seen her cry. But this... this was something different. This was a wound so deep that even time hadn't been able to heal it.

Naina wasn't just crying. She was unraveling. Her eyes were filled with a pain that had no name, a hurt that had buried itself inside her for years, never spoken, never shared. And now, as she finally let it out, she looked smaller-like the ten-year-old girl she had once been, trapped in a nightmare that had never really ended.

Ishaan exhaled sharply and ran a hand over his face, trying to process what he had just heard. His fingers clenched into fists as a sharp wave of anger surged inside him. Not at Naina-but at the monster from her past. He had hurt her, He had made her feel dirty.

Ishaan's jaw tightened, his chest rising and falling with slow, controlled breaths as he tried to contain the rage boiling inside him. He wanted to ask her a hundred things-Who was he? Where is he now? But now wasn't the time. Right now, Naina needed something else.

He reached forward, his fingers hesitating for a second before gently tilting her chin up. Her wet lashes fluttered, and she looked at him with those same broken eyes, as if expecting him to say something-anything.

But Ishaan didn't speak. Instead, he leaned forward and kissed her forehead. A long, lingering kiss. His lips barely moved, just pressing against her skin as if trying to take away even a fraction of her pain.

When he pulled back, his arms wrapped around her, cradling her as if she was something fragile, something that needed to be protected at all costs. His grip was firm but careful, his warmth surrounding her completely.

Naina didn't move for a second. But then, slowly, she melted into him, burying her face in his chest. Her fingers clutched his shirt tightly, her nails digging into the fabric as if afraid he would disappear.

Ishaan rested his chin on her head, his voice low and steady.

"You were just a child, Naina. What happened to you... it wasn't your fault."

She sucked in a sharp breath, her body trembling against his.

Tightening his arms around her. "You were never wrong." he murmured.

A shaky sob escaped her lips, muffled against his chest. Ishaan didn't stop her. He let her cry, let her release everything she had held inside for so long. He didn't rush her. He didn't tell her to stop.

He just held her. And as the rain poured outside, mixing with the sound of her sobs, Ishaan made a silent promise. He would never let anyone make her feel like that again.

Naina move her head and look into Ishaan's eyes, and her tear-streaked face softened as she gazed at him, trying to understand what she was feeling. Then, slowly, she lowered her face onto his neck, resting against him. Her breaths were uneven, small, shaky sobs still escaping her lips, but there was something else too-comfort.

Ishaan felt Naina's breath warm against his neck, her small, shuddering gasps slowly settling down. His grip on her tightened just a little, as if silently telling her-I'm here.

For the first time, Naina allowed herself to sink into the warmth of his presence. There was something different about the way Ishaan reacted to her pain. He hadn't flooded her with questions, hadn't looked at her with pity, hadn't made her feel like a broken doll that needed fixing. He had just... listened.

Unlike Vansh.

She remembered how, when she had told Vansh, he had immediately bombarded her with questions-"Who was he? How old was he? Where did this happen?"-as if turning her trauma into an interrogation would somehow help. But it hadn't. If anything, it had only made her feel more exposed, more vulnerable.

Ishaan was different.

He didn't ask. He didn't demand details. He just held her, like a shield against everything that had ever hurt her. And somehow, that silence felt more comforting than a thousand spoken reassurances.

Ishaan's fingers traced soothing circles on her back, his other hand gently running through her hair. His movements were slow, steady-like he was grounding her, keeping her safe in this moment.

The room was silent except for the soft sound of rain tapping against the glass. There were no words between them, but they didn't need any. The silence wasn't heavy; it wasn't suffocating. It was peaceful.

Naina closed her eyes, breathing him in-the scent of him, the warmth of him. She still hated him... didn't she? She should. But for the first time, that hatred felt just a little less sharp, a little less certain.

Ishaan felt Naina's cold lips press lightly against his neck, her breath shaky but warm. He had always wanted to be her safe place-to be the one she could lean on. And tonight, for the first time, she had reached out to him.

A lump formed in his throat. Her touch sent a shiver down his spine, not because of desire, but because of the depth of trust she was unknowingly giving him.

He understood her pain now. He understood why she was terrified of marriage, why panic attacks haunted her, why she drowned herself in those tablets just to get through the day. Everything suddenly made sense.

But there was something else he understood now-something far more dangerous.

Killing had always been easy for him. A flick of the wrist, a pull of the trigger-nothing more than a game for his right hand. But this... this was different. The man who had shattered his Naina, who had left scars so deep that they still bled-that man deserved something beyond a quick death.

Ishaan's fingers moved through her hair, gently combing through the soft strands. He said nothing, just held her, letting the silence speak where words failed.

Slowly, her sobs began to fade. Her breaths, once erratic, evened out into a soft, rhythmic sound.

"Naina...?" he whispered.

No response.

He looked down at her, realizing she had finally fallen asleep in his arms.

A strange warmth spread through his chest. She had surrendered herself to him-not in fear, not in helplessness, but in quiet trust.

Ishaan pulled her closer, his arms tightening around her fragile body as if shielding her from the past itself. He rested his chin lightly on her head, listening to the rain outside.

No one had ever been able to break him. But tonight, Naina had-without even trying.



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