Whisper in the Night

Chapter 29 :Promise?

Kaira's POV:-

The world tilted, a relentless drumbeat against the inside of my skull. I woke with a groan, a hand instinctively rising to my throbbing temple, pushing against the pain as if to physically quell the storm raging behind my eyes. I sat up, resting my head against the cool headboard, letting out a frustrated sigh.

"Ugh, this head..."

Then, it hit me. Not another wave of pain, but a memory, sharp and cold as a shard of ice.

I was going to meet that man. The one who held the key, the one who promised answers. That's when it happened. The sudden darkness, the struggle, the fear...

I'd been kidnapped.

"Ugh, my head," I muttered again, the ache now secondary to the terror blooming in my chest. The last coherent thing I remembered, a voice, a question, echoing in the void before I lost consciousness:

"Why do you always walk straight into trouble, Moon?"

Rishav?

Was it Rishav? My heart, already a frantic bird, plummeted.

But why? Why would he kidnap me?

The question felt like a betrayal in itself, a poison seeping into the deepest corners of my trust.

I forced my eyes open, trying to make sense of my surroundings. This wasn't the room I'd been staying in before. This one was oppressively dark, heavy drapes blocking out any trace of light, plunging the space into a suffocating gloom. A strange, suffocating feeling began to coil in my gut. That unknown man, his words suddenly rang with chilling clarity

"Don't trust anyone. Not even your closest ones."

Could Rishav be one of them?

Every muscle screamed in protest as I pushed myself off the bed. My head swam, my entire body felt like it had been put through a grinder. But a primal need for answers, for escape, propelled me forward. I stumbled towards the door, pushing it open with a trembling hand, and stepped out into the corridor.

It was indeed Rishav's house. A wave of ice-cold dread washed over me. The familiar architecture now felt menacing, the quiet halls echoing with unspoken threats. I moved slowly, cautiously, each step sending jolts of pain through my battered body, but my guard was up, my senses hyper-alert.

As I crept down the opulent hallway, a soft humming drifted from below, a saccharine lullaby in the face of my terror. My gaze swept the area, landing on a heavy ceramic vase on a side table. My hand closed around it, the weight reassuring in its solidness. I descended the grand staircase, my movements measured, straining to hear any other sounds, any other presence. But there was only the humming, and the frantic pounding of my own heart.

"Nice weapon for defence."

The voice, calm and even, came from behind me. My heart leaped into my throat. I spun around, vase clutched high like a club. Rishav stood there, leaning casually against the kitchen doorway, dressed in comfortable casuals, a faint smile playing on his lips. He looked utterly normal, utterly at ease, and it was the most terrifying thing I'd ever seen.

He pushed off the doorframe, moving towards the kitchen without breaking eye contact. My mind reeled.

"Wh-why am I here?" My voice was a choked whisper, barely audible. He didn't reply, just continued walking, the mundane act of entering his kitchen an affront to my rising fear.

"Where is everyone?" I tried again, my voice gaining a desperate edge.

"Oh, they're all on leave," he said, his back to me as he began to rummage through a cupboard. "It's Sunday, after all."