"𝐈 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞."
He glared at her with a cold, harsh expression and said, "What am I supposed to do with you, my doll?"
Fear washed over her, but she gathere...
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In a secluded area, a sleek black Maybach sped toward an old, worn-down warehouse, its bright exterior gleaming even in the shadows.
It came to an abrupt halt with a loud screech, breaking the silence of the night.
Abhirudra stepped out of the car, exuding an air of authority. The atmosphere grew heavy and dark as he emerged, his presence imposing in an all-black outfit. He strode purposefully toward the warehouse.
Outside, several bulky bodyguards stood on high alert, each equipped with sunglasses and earpieces. Their earlier boredom disappeared instantly at the sight of Abhirudra's arrival.
They greeted him respectfully, though he ignored them as usual, focused entirely on his mission. With a chilling and dangerous expression that made even the bodyguards swallow nervously, he entered the warehouse.
Inside the warehouse was a large hall-like space, with a rough, dusty ground and big wooden crates lining both sides.
In the center of the room stood a single chair, a bright, harsh light, to which Mr. Mehta was tightly bound, unconscious. His disheveled clothes and blood-stained face bore clear signs of violence.
Mr. Raina, already present, waited patiently near a large wooden table positioned close to the chair, looking every bit like the grim reaper's assistant in his custom black uniform.
Checking his watch repeatedly, his face brightened as Abhirudra finally entered the warehouse, hands tucked in his pockets, exuding a cold, imposing aura.
As he approached, accompanied by a few bodyguards, everyone bowed respectfully and lowered their gazes.
Abhirudra stared at the unconscious criminal on the chair with cold, calculating eyes. After a moment, he looked at Mr. Raina, who immediately understood the signal.
Mr. Raina picked up a wide-mouthed water bottle from the wooden table, unscrewed the cap, and handed it to him.
Without a word, Abhirudra took the bottle and splashed the cold water onto Mr. Mehta's face. The shock jolted Mr. Mehta awake, and he gasped, shaking his head vigorously to fling off the water.
Disoriented, he squinted against the harsh light, blinking rapidly to adjust. As his vision cleared, he realized that the figure standing before him was Abhirudra.
Panic gripped him instantly. His body began to tremble, cold sweat beading on his forehead. The memory of his actions just a few hours ago flooded back, and he stammered out pleas for mercy, fully aware of the retribution he now faced.
"Mr. Rathore, please forgive me. I wasn't in my right mind at the time," he pleaded, his voice shaky.
Abhirudra tossed the empty bottle aside carelessly and began to circle around him like a predator sizing up its prey. In a deep, icy tone, he replied, "Mistakes are forgiven, but sins are not."
