𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧: 𝐀𝐤𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐎𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐢 (𝟏𝟖+) ✅

1

Akshat

2 years before Kabir's Marriage

Torturing a man—it's never a pastime in any moral handbook, is it? Or maybe it is, for those who've found it a way to fill their idle hours. Should I feel remorse for just ending a man's life? Perhaps. But oddly enough, that rush feels intoxicating. Psychologists might attribute it to adrenaline, but could it be the twisted need to extinguish to feel truly alive? Not all of us are wired for saintly compassion; it demands a liberty I simply don't possess.

When you tally up the blessings in your life, what do you count? Family? Treasured possessions? Cherished memories of firefly-lit nights? Perhaps. But amidst all the goodness, you start to realize there's someone else out there, doing the dirty work. All you see are these damn saints parading around. Everyone wears a mask, don't they? Some for their own safety, others to ensure safety for everyone else. I fall into the latter category—safeguarding, protecting. But for whom, you wonder? For my family, unequivocally.

Unlike the clichéd tragedies you might be concocting in your mind, I'm not the product of an abusive childhood or an orphaned existence. I was raised by loving parents and siblings. No, I wasn't subjected to any familial sexual abuse either, if that's the narrative you're spinning. I'm just... different. Always have been, but I conceal it masterfully. I hide behind the veneer of corporations, board meetings, and management projects. I hide behind Bhai, Kabir Oberoi. Why not? I've willingly assumed the role of the villain, allowing him to bask in the glory of heroism. I don't mind it—I never aspired to be a hero. One morally upright man is plenty to steer the Oberoi empire.

Some chapters of your life etch themselves permanently into memory. For me, it's encapsulated in just one: a pink bow with a fragrance of flowers and the most exquisite pink dress. A princess. My princess, as I fondly call her.

The memory of her—my princess—is a stark contrast to the shadows that now engulf my existence. She was the light, the purity in a world stained by shadows. In her innocence, she never questioned the duality of my persona. To her, I was simply her Peachy Pie (Yes, she called me that because my cheeks used to turn peach-coloured whenever she used to pull them), shielding her from the harsh realities beyond our cocooned world.

I remember the day she left, a rift tearing through my heart that not even the mask of the Oberoi Empire could stitch together. Her absence carved a void—a vacuum that no amount of power or prestige could fill. And so, I ventured further into the darkness, allowing the weight of the villain's cloak to shroud me completely.

The path I tread isn't one chosen easily; it's a chosen sacrifice. The sacrifices we make for family—the choices that bind us irrevocably. The world sees Kabir Oberoi as the righteous beacon, the epitome of goodness steering the family legacy. And me? I'm content with the shadows, bearing the weight of our unspoken truths, bearing the sins to ensure his hands remain untainted.

My existence mirrors the hidden layers of existence itself. Beneath the veneer of privilege lies a tapestry woven with secrets, allegiances, and obligations. My life is an intricate dance between shadows and light, the balance maintained by the sacrifices made in silence.

In this dichotomy, I am both the guard and the prisoner. A guardian of secrets, protecting the cherished legacy while confined by the shackles of duty and loyalty. The world spins tales of heroes and villains, unaware that sometimes, within one person, both reside—a juxtaposition of roles stitched together by circumstance.

As I navigate this labyrinth of obligations, a flicker of hope persists—a hope that one day, my sacrifices will pave a path for her return. A return to the warmth of innocence, away from the murky depths I've plunged into. Until then, I remain the shadow, the protector in obscurity, shaping destinies from the realm's unseen.

"Sir, Wexfrost has captured the property from Malhotra's, but he is adamant about the deal," Neil said.

"What does that motherfucker want?"

"1000 yards of Syphine Villa"

"Sure," I said smirking.

945

.

.

.

990.

.

.

1000

"Ahhhhh..l.l.eeave...me...i..am..s.s.o.rrry"

"You asked for 1000, a thousand cuts for you, for glancing at the property that has my heart,"

"That place is a piece of crap, I wanted to rebuild it, put it to good use by profiting out of it"

"You are a piece of crap, that place, that place is what you'll never get, not a fucking inch of it,"

"Sir, capturing that place cost us millions, almost 25 of our men, if I may ask, why is it so important, we went into wars with Malhotra's, Kabir Sir would never be happy with it," Neil said, confusingly.

"That place is priceless Neil," I said glancing through the villa, which was now in a sorry state because no one from the past 15 years had come here to clean it or take care of it, it was under Malhotra's when I found out about it, that's when I saw her...again...Riya Malhotra, my princess, my damnation. She lives in London, but she will be back in the next 6 months.

When she finally comes back, just catching a glimpse of her would mean the world. But I know my place—it's in the shadows. My love, as much as it burns, could hurt her. I'd rather keep my distance than put her in harm's way.

It's a tough spot, wanting to be near her but knowing it's not right. Wanting to shield her means keeping myself away, even if it stings. I wish I could be there for her, be a part of her life, but it's just not in the cards. Loving her means holding back, making sure she doesn't get caught up in my mess.

I wish I could tell her, show her how much she means to me, but I can't risk it. So, I'll stay on the sidelines, silently caring for her, hoping she stays safe and happy, even if it means I have to love her from afar.