𝐇𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐲.𝐓𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜.♡
Some days even the devil sits back and admires her work.
Story of Aaisha Oberoi And Ranvijay Cha...
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Blood? Really? Blood? How childish, I thought to myself, rolling my eyes. This wasn’t some amateur attempt to frighten me. If they thought a little blood would make me quake in fear, they were sorely mistaken.
I’ve seen worse.
This wasn’t even real blood — it was pig's blood. A cheap, well-known mafia tactic used to send a message. I’ve dealt with worse, I reminded myself. I’m well-acquainted with the underworld, the silent wars fought in the shadows, the threats wrapped in fear. It takes more than this to make me flinch. But still, the real question lingered—Who was behind this? Who was trying to hurt me?
No, they wouldn’t get the chance. Not while I still had breath in my lungs.
---
The night dragged on, my thoughts a tangled mess of confusion and suspicion. Eventually, Gaurav showed up, his familiar presence a distraction from the gnawing unease building inside me. He asked if I wanted him to drive me home. His concern was evident, though I could sense there was more to it — a hint of something deeper, something unspoken.
But no, I couldn't let him get involved. I had plans. A business dinner. Or at least, that was the excuse I gave.
Still, the formality of it all made me pause. I should apologize, at least, for my coldness. He was, after all, going to be my so-called husband. The thought of it made me cringe a little. But I had to play my part, for appearances. Even if, deep inside, I questioned everything about the arrangement.
I didn’t have the courage to reach out to him directly, so I sent my secretary with a message. His secretary gave him the address. My stomach churned as I read it. I had expected something more familiar — a restaurant, maybe. But the address led to a basement. What the hell?
---
The air felt strange as I entered, the dim lighting and echo of silence making me feel out of place. I called out into the emptiness. Hello? Is anyone there? My voice bounced off the cold walls, sounding louder than it should have.
I walked further inside, my heart beating faster with every step. I knew Ranvijay. But the atmosphere here? It was off. Too tense. Too heavy. Something was happening that I couldn’t quite place.
Then, I saw them.
A group of men were fighting, their grunts and punches filling the air, while others stood around, watching, indifferent. One man was being tortured — dragged across the floor by his limbs. This wasn’t just a random fight. This was... organized. A boxing club? I thought. But it felt darker. More dangerous.
And then I saw him.
Ranvijay.
He sat at the edge of the chaos, detached from it all. He wasn’t even looking at the fight. He was sipping wine. What the hell?
