Is't Called Destiny

UNEXPECTED REJECTION

Part 17: Unexpected Rejection

Darsh stood outside Kanishka's lavish house, the evening shadows lengthening around him. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he knew would be a difficult confrontation. He needed answers, closure, and perhaps a chance to salvage what remained of his shattered heart.

With resolve, Darsh rang the doorbell. Moments later, Sweta opened the door, her expression one of surprise mixed with a hint of concern.

"Darsh?" Sweta's voice was cautious, wary of the storm that Darsh might bring with him.

"I need to talk to Kanishka," Darsh said firmly, his jaw set.

Sweta hesitated, glancing back into the house before stepping aside to let him in. "She's in the living room," she said quietly, her eyes reflecting sympathy for the pain she could see etched on Darsh's face.

Darsh nodded in acknowledgment and walked through the familiar corridors to the living room where Kanishka and Ayan were seated on the couch, their heads close together in an intimate conversation. The sight pierced Darsh's heart, but he pushed aside the pain, focusing on the task at hand.

Kanishka looked up as Darsh entered, her eyes widening in surprise, quickly replaced by a cold mask of indifference. Ayan's expression hardened as he recognized Darsh, his posture tensing.

"What are you doing here, Darsh?" Kanishka's voice was icy, a stark contrast to the warmth he once knew.

"I need to talk to you, Kanishka," Darsh said evenly, ignoring Ayan's threatening presence beside her.

"We have nothing left to say to each other," Kanishka replied sharply, her gaze unwavering.

Darsh took a step closer, his voice tinged with desperation. "Please, just hear me out."

Ayan scoffed, standing up with a dismissive gesture. "She's made her decision, Darsh. It's time for you to leave."

Darsh's fists clenched at his sides, his resolve hardening. "I'm not leaving until I've said what I need to say."

Kanishka rose to her feet, her demeanor steelier than ever. "You're making a scene, Darsh. This is not the place."

"No, Kanishka, this is exactly the place," Darsh retorted, his voice rising despite his efforts to remain calm. "You owe me an explanation. After everything we've been through, you owe me that much."

Ayan stepped forward, his voice laced with thinly veiled threat. "I suggest you leave before I make you leave."

Darsh turned to face Ayan, his eyes blazing with defiance. "You think you can just waltz in here and take her away from me? You have no idea what you're getting into."

Ayan's jaw tightened, his stance aggressive. "She's mine now, Darsh. You need to accept that."

Darsh's heart pounded with rage and hurt. "I'll never accept this," he declared, his voice cutting through the tense silence. "You've both betrayed me, and you'll both regret it."

Kanishka's expression softened for a brief moment, a flicker of emotion crossing her face before she hardened it again. "You brought this upon yourself, Darsh. It's over between us."

Darsh felt like a knife had been driven into his heart. He had come here hoping for reconciliation, for a chance to make things right, but instead, he was met with rejection and scorn. His hands trembled with the effort to contain his emotions, his facade of composure crumbling under the weight of betrayal.

Without another word, Darsh turned on his heel and stormed out of the house, leaving behind a trail of shattered hopes and bitter resentment. As he drove away, the pain in his chest turned into a searing anger, consuming him like a raging fire.

---

Days passed, but Darsh couldn't shake the anguish and rage that consumed him. He withdrew into himself, becoming distant and aloof at work and with his friends. The once charming and charismatic Darsh was now a shadow of himself, his heart turned cold and hardened by the betrayal of the woman he loved and the man who had stolen her away.

In the depths of his despair, Darsh made a vow to himself. He would no longer be the trusting and forgiving man he once was. He would become ruthless and calculated, driven by a singular purpose: to seek revenge on Kanishka and Ayan for tearing his world apart.

From that day forward, Darsh Singhal was no longer the man who believed in love and second chances. He was a force to be reckoned with, a man on a mission to destroy everything that Kanishka held dear, just as she had destroyed him.

As he sat alone in his office, the flickering city lights outside casting eerie shadows on the walls, Darsh plotted his next move. Revenge burned in his veins like a poison, fueling his determination to make Kanishka and Ayan pay for the pain they had caused him.

Little did they know, Darsh Singhal was no longer a man to be trifled with. He was a storm waiting to unleash its fury, and no one, not even Kanishka Rao, could escape the wrath of a man scorned.