✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
[ 𝐒𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐋 1 ]
Because this is where love fades and hate resides and intensifies, broken hearts produce the most tragic stories.
Their treachery is told through their bleeding hearts: their unrequited love was never reciprocated. The...
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The sound that ripped from my throat felt alien, a desperate, raw plea against the echoes of my nightmare.
"No..........."
I jerked open my eyes, the memory of that grasping hand and my father's sneer still vivid. My lungs burned, and sweat plastered my hair to my forehead. I was breathing like I'd just surfaced from drowning.
I looked frantically at my surroundings. Familiar, yet unsettlingly opulent. A vast room. Soft, expensive linens. And my clothes—they were changed. A clean, loose hospital-style gown replaced the torn fabric I remembered.
Did they? Where am I?
The horrifying possibility that the men had somehow... no. The sharp ache in my heart was quickly followed by a rush of nauseating self-pity. I had never felt so pathetic, so utterly helpless. I strained my ears, listening for any sign of movement, any heavy male footsteps, but the room was silent.
"Hey... are you okay?"
The voice, deep and resonant, cut through the quiet. I snapped my head toward the source of the sound—Vidyut Agarwal. He was sitting in a chair near the window, his posture rigid, and the harsh lines around his mouth betraying a hidden anxiety.
Tears, which had only been threatened before, instantly welled up. I didn't think; I only reacted. I scrambled off the bed, ignoring the immediate, dull throbbing from the cuts on my feet and arms, and ran toward him.
I threw myself into his arms. The sudden, desperate force of my action caught him off guard, and his back hit the wall with a dull thud. I buried my face in his chest, wrapping my arms around him in a vice-like grip. I needed an anchor, and inexplicably, this man—the man who was supposed to be my business enemy, the arrogant CEO I sparred with—was the only solid thing in my shattering world.
I felt his body freeze in shock for a fraction of a second. Then, a warmth enveloped me as he wrapped his arms around my shoulders, his hands carefully avoiding any contact with my actual body, resting instead on the thick cloth of my gown and his own shirt.
