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The night reeked of secrets.
Curtains smothered the windows, the lamps burned low, and the air inside the chamber was colder than steel. Three figures stood in that silence, until her voice cut it open like a blade.
"I want to sell her."
The words lingered, sharp and cruel, like venom dropped into still water.
"What?"
Both men turned sharply, their disbelief echoing together.
"You have no right upon her," one spat, fury lacing his tone.
But she only smiled. The kind of smile that belonged to a woman who dealt not in feelings, but in fates.
"Rights are illusions," she said slowly, letting each syllable sting. "Empires fall not because of enemies, but because of arrogance. Be smart, Mr. Singhania. Play your wild card... or watch your throne collapse beneath your feet."
The name cracked the air like a curse. Singhania.
The men glanced at each other, and for a moment, centuries of rivalry, blood, and unspoken terror shimmered in their eyes. They both knew. They both understood.
"...I will make the arrangements," one whispered.
She halted him with a cruel shake of her head.
"No need. I've already done it."
A pause. A heartbeat. A sentence that felt like the end of the world:
"Mehrotra will come tomorrow."
Silence fell. Heavy. Deadly Silence making the anxiety creep in the older Singhania body.
"You're bringing him here?" he roared for the first time infront of the woman.
"You're making a deal with our rival?" the other man too spoke.
Her laughter rose, sharp and victorious, like the sound of glass breaking in a cathedral. "Not a deal. A beginning."
The following dawn, No one came, but they recieved an agreement.
"Road trip. My Rights, an equal share of equity. Ten months. No interruptions."
A sharp decree, by Aakarsh Singh Mehrotra, he likes to play morally, it was his twisted kink to see his opponent fall within his virutes.
For him, she was nothing more than a pawn. A staircase to vengeance. A sacrifice for his greater empire.
But the truth was darker than his ambition.
The pawn was not a pawn.
The pawn was a queen herself.
Ikshita Singhania.
The storm that no man could tame. The girl they thought could be sold like a secret.
She was ruin disguised as salvation.
And none of the people who were now planning her story, didn't see that the storm was ready to crash them. Already circling him.
It was already marking him as hers.
They thought it was Mehrotra versus Singhania.
They thought it was a war.
But wars end. Destinies do not.
He was hers to love and destroy. She was his to crave and betray.
And when their fire and storm collided, it would not be to kill each other.
It would be to kill the world.
Together, they would rise. Together, they would rule.
Not his empire. Not her empire.
Their empire.
The empire of Aakarsh Mehrotra and Ikshita Singhania. An empire born of hatred, sealed with desire, and built from the ashes of everyone who tried to own them.
kyunki mohabbat ki kahani toh kayi suni hai apne.
par yeh, yeh deewaniyat thi,
ek shaitan aur ek noor ki,
(❀❛ ֊ ❛„)♡
UNDER EDITING !
[DIDNT HAD THE HEART TO REMOVE THIS SS, LETS KEEP IT THAT WAY THEN!]
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