I was driving back to my mansion after dropping her off at her apartment. The streetlights cast a dull glow on the road, but all I could see in my mind was her face, etched with determination as she told me she needed three days off. Three days. It felt like an eternity. I gripped the steering wheel tightly, my knuckles turning white. How could I endure three days without her presence?I couldn't understand this sudden obsession. It had only been a week, but the thought of not seeing her made my blood boil. I had gotten so used to her being around, her soft voice, her innocent questions, and even the way she nervously fidgeted when she thought I wasn't looking. She had become a constant in my life, and now she was taking it away, even if just for a few days.
When I arrived at the mansion, I stormed inside, my frustration boiling over. The staff scattered at the sight of my anger, knowing better than to cross my path when I was in this mood. I didn't care about their fear; all I cared about was the fact that my swan wouldn't be around.
I headed straight to my office, slamming the door behind me. I needed to distract myself, to focus on work, but my thoughts kept drifting back to her. I tried going through some documents, but her face floated in front of my eyes, making it impossible to concentrate.
After pacing my office for what felt like hours, I decided to call Rakshit. Maybe some illegal dealings or a hunt would help me clear my mind.
"Rakshit," I barked into the phone as soon as he answered.
"Yes, boss?" His voice was calm, as always.
"I need something to do. Find me a target. I need to vent," I ordered.
"Understood. I'll have something for you in an hour," he replied, without asking any questions. That's what I liked about him. He understood my needs without any explanations.
While waiting, I tried to sit down and relax, but it was no use. My mind was racing, replaying every moment I had spent with her. Her smile, her laugh, even the way she scolded me for not wearing a shirt. It was all so vivid, so intoxicating.
An hour later, Rakshit called back with the details. It was a minor target, someone who had crossed me in business. Normally, I would have found it boring, but tonight, I needed the distraction.
I headed to the location Rakshit had provided. It was an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city, the perfect place for an execution. As I walked in, the familiar smell of damp concrete and fear hit me. My target was already tied up, gagged, and trembling.
I walked up to him, my anger barely contained. I could see the fear in his eyes, but it didn't satisfy me. I needed more. I needed to see her, to hear her voice, to feel her presence.
"Do you know why you're here?" I asked, my voice cold and menacing.
He shook his head frantically, tears streaming down his face.
YOU ARE READING
The Forbidden Manuscript : a Villain's Tale
FantasyNandini Verma was 18 when she penned her first story, a tale of passion, betrayal, and revenge. It was a masterpiece, poised for publication. But on the night she was to share her brilliance with the world, tragedy struck. Her abusive father, a figu...