The King's Sinful Obsession

​It was nearly eleven at night. A heavy, oppressive silence had descended upon the main building of Royal Metropolitan University. Outside, the rain—no, not rain, the last drizzle of autumn like a child learning to cry, sobbing as it slid down the window grilles.At the very end of the third-floor corridor, that half-broken tube light flickered as before—as if it was burning out of fear, afraid to go dark.The last door of that corridor was shut. Inside was Aaryan.The room was hauntingly beautiful—deep sapphire walls, polished Italian marble floors, and massive mahogany bookshelves that reached the ceiling like a museum. In the center of this elegance sat Aaryan. At nineteen, his eyes held a cruelty older than life itself. A luxury Rolex Submariner glinted on his wrist—not that time moved by its hands, but rather, his touch seemed to make time freeze.And across from him sat Safa.Eighteen years old. Her eyes were swollen, red—like two memories drenched in blood. She was trembling.

The heavy glass doors of the university’s main entrance swung open as Aaryan stepped out. Behind him, Zarif and Mayra followed like silent sentinels, while Raisa walked closely by his side. There was a regal arrogance in Aaryan’s stride—a silent command that forced the ocean of students to part before him. Eyes darted toward them in a mixture of awe and terror: at Aaryan’s midnight-black shirt, Raisa’s form-fitting jeans, the glint of Zarif’s Rolex, and the bold crimson on Mayra’s lips. They were the untouchable elite.Suddenly, a voice shattered the rhythmic clicking of their boots on the pavement."Aaryan!"The group froze. The atmosphere turned frigid. On this campus, no one dared to address him so casually. He was 'Mr. Khan' or 'Sir' to everyone. Calling him by his first name was a death wish.Aaryan turned slowly, his eyes cold. Near the sidewalk stood Tasnim, leaning against a pillar with a coffee cup in her hand. Sunglasses shielded her eye

Since returning from the hospital, Ariyan hadn’t uttered a single word. He sat on the penthouse balcony for hours, motionless. A cup of coffee sat before him, long since grown cold. He would light a cigarette, let it burn out, and light another. Raisa checked on him periodically, but she remained silent. She knew that when Ariyan retreated into these shadows, it was best to leave him to his own demons.As evening fell and the city lights flickered to life, Ariyan remained on the balcony. Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed behind him. It was Jarif."We need to talk," Jarif said.Without turning, Ariyan replied, "Speak."Jarif stood beside him, holding an envelope. "I found this at the campus gate today. It has your name on it."Ariyan took the envelope and opened it. Inside was a photograph—an old picture of his father’s car, taken the day before the bombing. On the back, a message was scrawled: *"I know who planted the bomb. And I know you don't know the whole truth. If you want

7:30 AM. The central field of the campus. Usually, at this hour, only a few students are seen jogging or taking a morning stroll. But today was different. Since dawn, the field had been swarming with students. Groups stood everywhere, holding placards that read: *"Expel Ariyan," "We Want Justice,"* and *"Protest Against Tyranny."*Sajid stood atop a makeshift stage, wearing a black T-shirt with a red ribbon tied around his arm. Several student leaders stood beside him. A crowd of nearly three hundred students had gathered. Phones were out for Facebook Lives, and even cameras from local TV channels were stationed nearby."Today, we will prove that this campus will no longer tolerate any oppressor!" Sajid’s voice cracked with intensity. "Ariyan Khan must be expelled! We have already submitted a memorandum to the Principal. He will make his decision today. And if he doesn't—we will continue our movement until he does!"Suddenly, a shout erupted from the back of the crowd—"A

It was nearly one in the morning. The lights in the penthouse living room were dimmed, casting long shadows over the maps, documents, a laptop, and several half-empty coffee cups scattered across the table. Ariyan, Raisa, Jarif, Maira, and Tasnim sat in a tight circle. Outside the door, Farhan stood guard. Mirza had departed a short while ago, leaving behind the final pieces of the puzzle. Ariyan pointed to a 3D schematic glowing on the laptop screen. "This is the layout of my father’s office. Three guards patrol the ground floor at night. The second floor houses the CCTV control room. The main office is on the third floor. The safe is hidden there—behind a painting, recessed into the wall." Jarif studied the map. "How many cameras are we looking at?" "Sixteen in total. But four are dummies. The other twelve are active and recording, monitored 24/7 from the control room. There’s always one staff member on duty there." "How do we neutralize him