Her Nightmare

| 4 |

P A R I N I D H I

"Who is Ajit?"

Devansh's question pierced through the silence, leaving me frozen in place. Fear and anger surged within me, clashing like a storm.

Just last night, I had endured so much, and now the thought of Devansh discovering my ex-boyfriend's name—and potentially using it as a weapon to make my life even more hellish—filled me with dread.

I stood by the door, my trembling hand gripping the handle for support. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead as panic clawed at me.

Slowly, I turned around, my gaze fixed firmly on the ground, unable to meet his eyes.

Did I say something in my sleep? Did I mention Ajit's name? The questions swirled in my mind, threatening to suffocate me.

But above all, I knew I had to answer him carefully. One wrong word, and my already shattered world could crumble further.

"He's... a colleague," I finally blurted, my voice barely above a whisper.

I knew it was a lie, but I hoped it would be enough to deflect his suspicion. The truth was too dangerous, too volatile to reveal.

"Just a colleague?" Devansh's tone dripped with skepticism, his sharp gaze slicing through my feeble excuse as he began advancing toward me. Each step echoed loudly, amplifying the dread pooling in my chest.

I nodded, my eyes glued to the floor. My throat was dry, and my hands balled into fists at my sides, trembling slightly as I braced for his response.

But nothing could have prepared me for the force with which he pinned me against the wall. The impact knocked the breath out of me, and my heart raced in sheer panic.

Devansh's hand shot out, gripping my chin firmly and tilting my face upward. His eyes burned with anger, but beneath the fury, there was something else—something darker, more dangerous.

"Who. Is. Ajit?" he demanded again, his voice low and menacing, each word punctuated by a tightening of his grip.

"He's a former colleague," I stammered, my voice shaky as I struggled to free myself. "Devansh, please, you're hurting me."

His hold only tightened, cutting off my protests as his piercing gaze bore into mine.

For a moment, I felt as though he could see right through me, stripping away every layer of my being.

"You talk about your 'colleague' in your sleep?" he sneered, his voice laced with mocking disbelief.

I froze, the realization hitting me like a blow. I said Ajit's name in my sleep.

Devansh's thumb moved to my lips, roughly brushing against them, his eyes narrowing as he waited for a response. My mind raced, but no words came.

As I mustered the courage to meet his gaze, my eyes landed on a scar etched across his cheek. It was the first time I had noticed it up close, and its raw, jagged edge sent a shiver down my spine. The scar only heightened his intensity, a chilling reminder of the man I was dealing with—one who thrived on power and control.

Our eyes locked again, and for a moment, the anger in his gaze shifted, replaced by something even more unsettling. His thumb stilled on my lips, and his attention lingered there before his eyes darkened once more.

Without warning, he replaced his thumb with his lips.

Shock coursed through me as his mouth crashed against mine.

It wasn't a kiss—it was a claim.

Forceful, aggressive, and suffocating, it shattered every illusion I'd ever had about my first kiss. His teeth sank into my bottom lip, sending a sharp sting through me as the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.