š©· āØ...The Rathore mansion, usually filled with a quiet, dignified stillness, seemed even more unsettling that afternoon. The marble floors reflected the dim light of the chandeliers, while the silence carried an almost sinister weight. Only the ticking of the grandfather clock echoed faintly across the vast halls. Mansiās eyes, sharp and restless, flickered toward the curving staircase that led to the second floor. Her hands trembled slightly as she clutched the small brass container filled with oil. The plan had been growing in her mind like a poisonous seedāsilent, deadly, and carefully nurtured. She had watched Aradhya for days, studying her every step, every small weakness, waiting for the perfect opportunity. And today, she had found it. Her lips curled in a cold smile as she poured the oil gently along the steps, her eyes darting toward the hallway where Aradhyaās faint shadow appeared. āLetās see how perfect you still look after this,ā Mansi muttered under her breath
𩷠⨠..The night air was thick with the scent of rain-soaked earth and the metallic tang of tension. Avyaanās boots crunched over the uneven forest floor as he moved, every muscle taut, senses sharpened to an almost inhuman degree. He had been tracking the shipment that had gone missing, the one his rivals thought they could steal from under the Veyrix gangās nose. But they hadnāt accounted for him. A sudden rustle, a whisper of movement, and thenāchaos. A gang of masked men emerged from the shadows, weapons glinting faintly in the moonlight. Avyaan didnāt hesitate. The first man lunged with a knife, but Avyaan was faster, sidestepping and twisting the attackerās arm until the metal clattered to the ground. His fists were a blur, his strikes precise, honed over years of training and necessity. Every punch, every kick was a messageāmess with the Veyrix gang, and you got obliterated. One attacker came at him with a pipe, swinging with brute force. Avyaan caught it mid-air, the im
𩷠⨠It had been two days since Avyaan left for Dubai, and the house already felt emptier without him. The nights were the hardest. She would lie in bed, hugging the pillow he had last used, his scent lingering faintly on it. Every night, without fail, his call would come. Sometimes it was just for a few minutes, other times he would stay on the line until she drifted off to sleep. His voice was deep and tired from the dayās work, but there was always a softness when he said, āSleep now, baccha. Iām right here.ā Those calls were her anchor, but the moment the phone went silent, the loneliness crept in again. This morning was no different. She sat at the breakfast table, quietly stirring her tea without drinking it. Her thoughts wandered to when he might return. Would it be this week? Next? Maybe heād surprise her and come early. The very idea made her lips curve in a faint smile. But peace was never guaranteed in this house, not when Abhishek and Riya were around. āBhabhiā¦ā R
š©· āØ"Someone who knows you better than you know yourself," Shaheen gasped, his breathing labored. "Someone who's been watching, waiting, planning. Someone who knows that destroying you means destroying her first."Avyaan felt the world tilt around him. "You knew," he said, realization crashing over him like a tidal wave. "You knew I would come here. This wasn't a dealāit was bait."Shaheen's laugh was wet and horrible. "Of course I knew. Everything was planned, down to the last detail. Your arrival, your offer, your beautiful wife sitting in that garden reading her little book, completely unaware that she's the center of a web that's been years in the making.""Who?" Avyaan pressed the barrel of his gun against Shaheen's forehead, his finger tightening on the trigger. "Give me a name.""I'm loyal to my boss," Shaheen wheezed, but there was pride in his voice even as death approached. "I won't betray him, even for you, Madviper. Even if you peel the skin from my bones, I won'tā"The gu
𩷠⨠The abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Dubai stood like a monument to forgotten dreams, its skeletal structure casting jagged shadows across the desert sand. The building had once been a thriving textile factory, but now it served as a different kind of marketplaceāone where bullets were currency and blood sealed contracts.Inside, the air was thick with dust and tension. Shafts of harsh afternoon sunlight cut through broken windows, illuminating particles that danced like ghosts in the suffocating heat. The concrete floor was stained with years of questionable activities, and the walls bore scars from previous negotiations that had gone terribly wrong.At the center of this desolate arena, two groups faced each other across a makeshift table constructed from shipping crates. The atmosphere crackled with the kind of energy that came right before lightning struckāelectric, dangerous, and absolutely lethal.MadviperāAvyaan Singh Rajvanshāsat with the casual confidence of a kin
𩷠⨠.The first rays of dawn crept through the silk curtains, painting the bedroom in soft shades of gold and amber. The city was still wrapped in morning quiet, but inside their sanctuary, gentle sounds of movement broke the silence. Aradhya was already awake, her bare feet padding softly across the marble floor as she moved between the wardrobe and Avyaan's half-packed leather bag.Avyaan emerged from the bathroom, a towel draped around his neck, his hair still damp from the shower. He paused in the doorway, watching her fold his shirts with careful precision, her slender fingers smoothing each crease as if the act itself could somehow keep him safe during his journey."You don't have to do that," he said quietly, his voice still rough from sleep.She looked up at him, her dark eyes soft in the morning light, then continued folding. Her silence spoke volumesāthis was her way of caring for him, of being part of his departure even when she couldn't follow.He walked over to her, his