𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝐊𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐫 𝐎𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐢 (𝟏𝟖+) ✅

𝟏𝟔: 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐀𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞

Slamming the door shut behind me, I perched irritably on the edge of my desk. "What the hell is going on?" I demanded, my voice laced with frustration.

My brother, Akshat, stood across from me, a grim expression etched on his face. "The Italians," he began, running a hand through his already ruffled hair. "They've started encroaching on our territory. Things are getting tense, and I thought you should see for yourself."

A knot of worry tightened in my stomach. The Italians were always stirring trouble, but this felt different. There was an underlying restlessness, a simmering anger that I couldn't quite place. "We know they're making a move," he conceded, "but why? Nothing's changed on our end. The Vinchis have been sending threats, of course, nothing new there. But this time... it feels different. More calculated."

A wave of helplessness washed over me. I never wanted any part of the mafia. Dad, however, had been a big player. It started innocently enough, as a way to boost some initial profits. But he'd gotten in too deep, too entangled to escape. The only option: grow stronger, and become an impenetrable force. A force no one dared to mess with, especially not our family.

Now, thanks to being the heir, the weight of that power landed squarely on my shoulders. I'd tried to shield Akshat and Aarav, my younger brothers, from this dark world. Akshat, bless his heart, used to follow me like a lost puppy, so he'd inevitably find out. A pang of guilt stabbed at me. Was I responsible for turning him into this... this emotionless weapon? The work he did... hardened a person. But then I learned that Dad had been preparing him for this since childhood. Military school for Akshat, physical training to hone him into a hunter, a merciless executor. Meanwhile, Aarav, our resident tech whiz, became the hacker, the unseen hand manipulating information. Me? I played the part of the charming businessman, the face behind the muscle.

I sighed, breaking the heavy silence. "So, what's the plan? By the way, Aisha mentioned a college camping trip. Maybe you should join, get out of here for a while."

The suggestion irked me. "You're leaving?" he challenged.

"Yeah," I confirmed. "But you're needed here."

"Needed for what? I've been keeping it together, haven't I? I don't need those damn pills anymore." his voice rose a notch, a tremor of anger underlying his words.

My eyes narrowed. "Don't lie to me, Akshat. I can see it in your eyes. You haven't been sleeping, you haven't been taking your meds. Don't push me on this."

He clenched his fists, his jaw locking tight. "I can handle it, Bhai. I'm in control." But even as the words left his lips, a flicker of doubt danced in his eyes. Was he? Truly?

The air crackled with tension. My gut churned with worry and anger as I watched Akshat erupt. It tore me apart to see him like this, a shell of his former self, ravaged by sleep deprivation and the constant weight of violence. The mafia life had transformed him into a weapon, his nerves perpetually frayed, his mind teetering on the edge. The medication was a lifeline, a way to control the hyperactivity and anxiety that threatened to consume him.