The shock from earlier had left me shaken. Going back inside to Shalini aunty and everyone else felt like the hardest thing in the world. But I had to gather myself, so I placed a hand on my racing heart and walked back into the office. Everyone was still seated, except for Ishan, who hadn't returned yet. Savitri aunty looked at me and asked with a kind smile, "Beta, did Ishan show you the office?" I nodded with a forced smile, unable to muster words.

Excusing myself, I asked for the washroom. Once inside, I let out the breath I'd been holding. My palms were sweaty, my heart still pounding. I splashed cold water on my face, hoping to calm myself. My hair was a mess from the wind earlier. As I reached for my hair tie to fix it, Shalini aunty called, "Beta, come quickly; we need to leave. It's getting late."

I left in a hurry, abandoning the idea of tying my hair.

~~~~×~~~~



As Naina stepped back into the office, her eyes unintentionally landed on Ishan. He was back, sitting casually in a chair with one hand propped under his chin, his intense gaze fixed on her. She froze for a moment but quickly composed herself, pretending as if he didn't exist.

Shalini aunty's voice broke the silence, "Oh good, Naina's here. Let's go, beta. It's time to head home." Naina nodded and moved toward the table to grab her phone.

As she picked it up, her eyes betrayed her and glanced at Ishan again. He hadn't shifted his gaze. Instead, he leaned back, clasping his hands together on the table, his smirk still playing on his lips. The way he looked at her, like he could see right through her, sent a jolt through her body.

Her hands trembled slightly as she hurriedly grabbed her phone. In her haste, she didn't notice her hair tie slipping from her fingers onto the table. Without realizing it, she turned and walked quickly toward Shalini aunty, eager to leave the room-and Ishan-behind.

As Naina walked away with Shalini and Karan, Ishan's eyes remained fixed on her retreating figure. It was as if he didn't want to let her go, as if his gaze alone could hold her back.

There was an intensity in the way he watched her, his smirk fading into something deeper, something unspoken. He leaned forward slightly in his chair, as if contemplating whether to stop her or let her leave.

But he stayed silent, his eyes following her there was a flicker of hope in his eyes, as if he was waiting for her to turn back, just once, but Naina didn't look back her steps were steady.

After Naina left, Ishan remained seated in his chair for a long time, lost in thought. His eyes eventually fell on the table, where he noticed something-a hair tie. It was hers.

He stood up slowly, walked over to the table, and picked it up. Holding the hair tie between his fingers, he examined it as if it were a priceless artifact. His intense gaze softened for a moment, but only briefly.

He stared at it for a few more seconds before whispering to himself,

"She is mine. I want her no matter how."

His tone was calm, but his words carried a strange, possessive determination. It was as if a decision had been made in his mind, one he had no intention of abandoning.

______________________________________

Next day -



Coming out of the gym, my gaze landed on the dining table where Mom and Dad were seated. Mom looked at me and said, "Beta, come have breakfast." I nodded and replied, "I'll be down after freshening up," and headed to my room.

Just as I stepped inside, my phone buzzed. It was Faris-my most trusted agent, the one who handles all my work hidden from the world. My right hand in the underworld.

I answered the call, and his voice came through immediately: "Sir, the task you gave me is complete."

"Alright," I replied in a low tone, cutting the call. I moved to my wardrobe and picked out a black tuxedo. As I dressed, my eyes wandered to the dressing table, where her hair tie lay. Naina's.

A sigh escaped my lips as I muttered to myself, "Ufff... She's going to kill me someday."

I picked up the hair tie, turning it over in my fingers as if it held some inexplicable power. After a moment of hesitation, I slid it onto my wrist, letting it stay there.

I don't want to take it off, I thought, a strange satisfaction settling in as I adjusted the tie on my wrist. It wasn't just an accessory anymore-it was a symbol, a reminder.



Ishan calmly packed his essentials and headed downstairs for breakfast. He joined his parents at the table, maintaining his usual composed demeanor, but his mind was already focused on the tasks ahead. After breakfast, he wasted no time and went straight to his black Mercedes Benz, deciding to drive himself.

Ishan preferred handling his "secret work" alone, away from prying eyes. While most people saw him as the charismatic and honorable businessman who ran Mehra's Associations, only a select few knew the truth. Beneath that polished exterior lay the biggest underworld mafia boss-a legacy passed down from his grandfather. Even his parents were aware of this duality, though they seldom discussed it.

Driving with precision, he made his way to the secluded seaside location. The road was quiet, the hum of the engine the only sound accompanying him. Upon reaching the destination, he parked his car and stepped out.

Before him, a sleek and luxurious yacht awaited, anchored in still waters. The cool sea breeze brushed against his face as he adjusted the cuffs of his black tuxedo. Around him, his team of elite bodyguards stood on high alert, securing the area.

Ishan's presence alone commanded respect and fear-no one dared to question his authority. As he walked toward the yacht, his wrist brushed against the hair tie he still wore, a faint smirk appearing on his face.

He stepped aboard the yacht, ready to take control of everything, as always.

As the yacht docked at the private island, Ishan stepped out with his usual aura of dominance and control. The salty breeze carried a sense of secrecy that mirrored the island itself-untouchable and forbidden to outsiders. Behind him, his team of highly trained bodyguards followed in formation, their eyes scanning the area for any potential threats, though none existed.

This wasn't just any island; it was Ishan's sanctuary-a hidden fortress where only his most trusted underworld associates were allowed. The island symbolized power, secrecy, and the dual life he led.

As Ishan strode forward, Faris appeared from the shadows, his posture respectful yet sharp, the hallmark of a man who knew his place in the hierarchy. He approached Ishan, bowing his head slightly before speaking in a low, firm voice. "Sir," Faris greeted, his words carrying the weight of loyalty and reverence.

Ishan gave a slight nod, acknowledging Faris without breaking his stride. Faris fell in step behind him, silently matching his pace, ready to report.

The island's interior was a masterpiece of modern design blended with raw natural beauty. Hidden among dense greenery were high-tech facilities, private chambers, and meeting rooms. The air buzzed with the quiet hum of generators and the occasional murmur of Faris's men going about their work.

Ishan's steps were measured, his black tuxedo immaculate despite the humid environment. His wrist bore Naina's hair tie, the contrast of the delicate object against his cold, commanding presence telling a story only he knew.

Faris finally spoke, keeping his tone professional. "The shipment has arrived, sir. Everything has been secured as per your instructions. We've tightened the perimeter-no one can get in or out without your permission."

Ishan's lips curled into a faint smirk. "Good," he said, his voice calm but laced with authority. "Let's not waste time."

They walked deeper into the island, heading toward a concealed building where only the most critical matters of Ishan's underworld empire were discussed.

As Ishan entered the concealed room, the air grew heavier with tension. The dim lighting revealed a man tied to a chair, his face bruised and bloodied, eyes filled with dread. He didn't dare make a sound, but his trembling body spoke volumes. Around the room, Ishan's men stood silent, their faces expressionless but clearly aware of the terror their boss commanded.

Ishan's footsteps echoed as he moved closer, his presence suffocating the already charged atmosphere. Without uttering a single word, he raised his hand toward Faris, palm open. Faris, knowing exactly what was being demanded, immediately handed over a sleek, black gun.

Ishan's eyes, cold and unrelenting, bore into the man tied to the chair.

There was no need for questions, no interrogation. Ishan didn't believe in wasting words on those who had already sealed their fate. With a calmness that was both chilling and calculated, he raised the gun, aimed it directly at the man's forehead, and pulled the trigger.

The gunshot reverberated through the room, and silence followed, even more deafening than the sound of the bullet. Blood splattered onto the walls, and the man slumped lifelessly in the chair.

Not a single soul dared to speak.

The sheer authority and fear Ishan commanded were enough to render everyone motionless. Even Faris, who had witnessed countless such moments, felt a chill run down his spine.

Ishan lowered the gun, his expression unchanged, as if what had just occurred was merely routine. He handed the weapon back to Faris and adjusted the cuff of his tuxedo sleeve, his movements precise and unaffected.

"Clean this up," Ishan said in a low, commanding voice that cut through the stillness.

Faris nodded quickly, signaling the other men to begin. They moved swiftly, their actions efficient and practiced, ensuring no trace of the incident remained.

As Ishan turned to leave the room, his mind wasn't on the bloodshed or the fear he instilled. Instead, it wandered to the delicate hair tie around his wrist and the girl who had unknowingly sparked an obsession within him. he thought -

"Even here, her essence follows me"

The memory of her haunting him in ways he couldn't understand.

After some time , Faris followed Ishan to his private office, carrying a thick file in his hands. He placed it carefully on the desk in front of Ishan.

"Sir, here are all the details about the person you asked me to investigate," Faris said, his tone steady but respectful.

Ishan exhaled deeply, leaned forward, and opened the file. His sharp eyes scanned the first few pages, his expression unreadable. But as he turned the pages, his hand paused ever so slightly.

The photograph staring back at him was of someone who had already etched herself into his mind-Naina.

The file contained every detail of her life: records of her late family, who had perished in a tragic accident; her school and college photos, and even fragments of her aspirations. One photo in particular caught his attention: Naina standing outside a law college. He brushed his fingers lightly over the image.

"So, you wanted to be a lawyer," he murmured, almost to himself, a faint smile playing on his lips.

But that smile vanished when he turned to the next page. His eyes darkened, his grip on the file tightening as rage slowly simmered within him.

The photo showed Naina with another man. The stranger's arm was draped casually over her shoulder, and she was smiling at him in a way that made Ishan's blood boil.

"Who is he?" Ishan demanded, his voice cold and sharp.

Faris, anticipating the question, answered immediately. "Sir, this is her boyfriend. But they haven't been in contact since her family's accident. There's no record of them meeting or speaking after that."

The word "boyfriend" echoed in Ishan's mind, fueling his possessiveness. His jaw clenched, and his piercing gaze fixed on the photo.

"Boyfriend?" Ishan scoffed under his breath, his tone laced with disdain. "He might have been her boyfriend once, but not anymore. Not after I've seen her."

Ishan's resolve hardened as he shut the file. He turned to Faris, his voice low but firm. "I want everything about him. His full name, his occupation, his life, everything. Find out if he's ever tried to contact her or if he plans to. Leave no stone unturned."

"Yes, sir," Faris replied without hesitation, already making mental notes of the task at hand.

As Faris exited the room, Ishan leaned back in his chair, his thoughts consumed by Naina. His obsession had grown deeper, and now, nothing would stop him from making her his.

Ishan's anger surged as his phone buzzed. His mother's name flashed across the screen, and he didn't even need to answer to know what she wanted.

"Beta, come home soon, we're having a party tonight for our anniversary," his mother's cheerful voice echoed through the phone, completely unaware of the storm brewing inside him.

Ishan gritted his teeth, cursing under his breath. Shit, I completely forgot about it... He slammed the phone down on the desk in frustration, his mind racing with irritation.

"Faris," he called out, his voice dark, commanding.

Faris immediately appeared at the door, ready for instructions.

"Get the car ready. I'm heading back," Ishan ordered, his fists clenching as he adjusted the gun in his waistband. It was a reflex, a tool he always kept close. Today, though, his anger wasn't just aimed at the situation; it was burning through him for a much bigger reason.

With a deep breath, he stepped away from the desk, forcing himself to calm down. But as he adjusted his cufflinks and his mind wandered back to Naina, his grip tightened around the gun. She's mine. No one else can have her. Not him.

Ishan arrived home in his sleek Mercedes Benz, the familiar driveway lined with decorative lights. His parents had gone all out for the anniversary celebration, and he was barely in the mood for it. He adjusted his collar, walking with purpose towards the house, his mind still spinning from the anger and tension of the day.

He handed over the carefully selected gift to his parents, a thoughtful gesture he'd had Faris arrange. Once in his room, he tossed his tie onto the bed and lay down to try and unwind. But the frustration still clawed at him, especially after the run-in with Ranvijay earlier.

He couldn't let his anger spill over tonight, not in front of his parents. After a few moments of deep breathing, he stood up and headed back downstairs, his sharp eyes scanning the crowd in the living room.

As soon as he entered the main hall, his gaze locked on Ranvijay-his most hated rival, standing among the guests. What the hell is he doing here? Ishan thought, anger simmering beneath the surface.

Ranvijay, sensing Ishan's approach, grinned mockingly. "Oh, hello Mr. Ishan, after a long time," he said with a sneer.

Ishan's fists clenched. The day had been long, and his temper was barely in check. But he wasn't about to let Ranvijay ruin his parents' party.

He walked closer to Ranvijay, his voice low and dangerous. "I don't waste time on scum like you. Stay away, and your chances of survival just might increase."

Ranvijay, always one to rise to a challenge, was about to throw a punch, but before he could act, Ishan reached into his waistband, pulling out his gun and pointing it directly at him. "I said, get lost."

The sight of the weapon made Ranvijay's body freeze. His arrogance melted away in an instant, and his hands shot up in surrender. "Chill, bro. I'm going," he stammered, backing away quickly.

Ishan stood there, his gaze locked on Ranvijay as he retreated, the gun still held firmly in his hand. When the room finally cleared, he lowered the weapon and stared at it for a moment, the weight of it grounding his anger.

Then, just as the tension started to ease, he heard the faint sound of anklets. His head snapped up, and his eyes widened in surprise.

There, standing at the entrance of the room, was Naina.

She looked stunning, her light pink lehenga gracefully flowing around her, the delicate diamond necklace catching the light. Her hair fell in soft waves, and a small black bindi adorned her forehead. She was mesmerizing, but what caught Ishan off guard was the look in her eyes-the shock, the fear. Her gaze dropped to his hand, where the gun still lingered, and then, without warning, her eyes flickered to the hair tie he was still wearing around his wrist.

Ishan stood still, watching Naina as she recoiled, fear clearly visible in her eyes. Her gaze was fixed on the gun in his hand, Naina's body took a small step back. The tension in the room was thick, but Ishan's expression remained unreadable.

"Don't," he said softly but firmly, his voice low enough to send a shiver down her spine.

Naina froze. She could feel her heart racing in her chest. His presence, so close now, sent a wave of panic through her. She wanted to move away, but her feet felt glued to the spot. She was trapped in his gaze, unsure of what would happen next.

Ishan took a slow step forward, closing the distance between them. His eyes stayed locked on her face as if he were studying her, trying to read her. Naina, still focused on the gun, could hardly breathe.

Then, with a swift motion, Ishan slid the gun back into his waistband. He looked at her for a moment longer before speaking again, his tone shifting. "So, what's your boyfriend's name?"

The question was simple, but it hit Naina like a thunderclap. She blinked, confused and startled. Her mind raced, trying to understand how Ishan knew, how he could possibly have known anything about her personal life.

Her eyes widened, and her voice faltered as she softly asked, "Why?" Her tone was barely a whisper, her body still tense, fighting the overwhelming sense of fear that gripped her.

Naina gasped as Ishan reached out and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her closer with an unexpected force. She could feel the warmth of his body, the closeness that made her heart race even faster. She tried to step back, but his grip tightened, preventing her from escaping.

"Don't move," he murmured, his voice low and commanding. His gaze locked onto hers with an intensity that sent chills through her

Naina's breath caught in her throat, her mind spinning with confusion and fear. The distance between them had disappeared, and now she felt trapped, caught in the pull of his presence. The gun was no longer in his hand, but the power he wielded was undeniable, even without it.

She struggled to keep her composure, but everything inside her screamed to run. Instead, she found herself unable to break free from his grasp, her body stiff and tense as she tried to make sense of the moment.

Ishan didn't say anything more. His grip was firm, his eyes piercing, as if he was waiting for her to say something, anything. The air between them was thick with tension, and Naina could feel the weight of his gaze on her like a pressure she couldn't escape.

Naina look into his eyes and slowly say's

"Chodo mujhe "

Ishan's grip on Naina tightened for a brief moment as he felt her resistance, but he didn't pull away. Instead, his gaze intensified as he looked into her eyes, studying her carefully, almost as if trying to read her thoughts.

"Kyun.... ?? drr lgg rha hai ?"

he said softly while moving closer, his voice almost a whisper.

Naina's heart raced in her chest, her voice trembling slightly as she repeated, "Chodo...plea..se." She took a slow, deep breath, trying to calm herself.

There was a moment of silence between them, filled with tension and unspoken words. Ishan slowly released his grip,

Naina stood frozen, her breath catching in her throat as his words sank in.

"Pyar ho gaya hai mujhe tumse dikh kyun nhi rha tumhe?"

Ishan's voice was soft, but it held a weight that made her heart skip a beat.

For a moment, everything seemed to blur around her. The anger, the fear, the confusion-everything mixed into a chaotic storm inside her mind. She couldn't comprehend what he was saying, couldn't make sense of it.

She trembled as she looked at Ishan and said in a shaky voice, "I sho..uld go Shalini aunty must be wai..ting for me."

As Naina started to turn away, Ishan grabbed her wrist and said again, "Don't"

With her heart racing, Naina replied, " I have a boy...friend, I don't think I should be talking to any...one else like this when I'm in a relation..ship."

Ishan's expression darkened, and anger flashed in his eyes. "Boyfriend? Do you think he's still waiting for you?"

Naina looked at him with a fear. "You know nothing about me and Vansh," she said, her voice steady despite the rising panic inside her.

Ishan smirked, his tone cold. "Vansh... huh, so his name is Vansh.It's good you told me yourself, or I would have spent a lot of time tracking him down."

Naina was taken aback, trying to process his words.

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