Enemies at the Boardroom: A Marriage of Convenience

LINGERING THOUGHTS

The intruder's voice cracked, laughter succumbing to terrified whimpers. The sudden shift revealed a deeper, more primal fear, one that eclipsed even the bravest of souls. The dread of Atharva, a name synonymous with darkness, had reduced the bold trespasser to a quivering, helpless creature.

Atharva stood over the cowering intruder, his chest heaving with a controlled fury that simmered just beneath the surface. The man, bloodied and trembling, stammered out his desperate plea , "I don’t know anything! I was just told to kill you. I failed. If I go back without finishing the job, they’ll kill me. It’s better if I end this myself now!"

His words were a frantic jumble, soaked in fear and desperation, as he tried to justify his actions, to make sense of his impending doom. But to Atharva, it was nothing but a pathetic excuse.

The fire in Atharva’s eyes intensified. Without hesitation, he delivered a crushing punch to the man's face, sending him sprawling back onto the cold, hard floor. The impact echoed in the room, a testament to Atharva's unyielding resolve.

He loomed over the intruder, his voice low and dangerous as he seethed, "Do I look like a fool to you?" The question hung in the air, thick with the weight of unspoken threats. Atharva’s gaze pierced through the man, who now realized he was staring into the eyes of someone who was far more dangerous than anyone who had sent him.

The intruder had hoped his confession would invoke some semblance of mercy, but he was gravely mistaken. Atharva wasn’t someone who would be swayed by pitiful excuses or hollow pleas for leniency. He was a man who demanded answers, and nothing less than the truth would satisfy him.

The man, now barely able to lift his head, pleaded with a trembling voice, "I swear, I’m innocent. I don’t know anything!" His eyes, wide with terror, were sincere, reflecting a desperate truth that couldn’t be faked. For a moment, Atharva studied him, the tension in the room thick enough to choke on. The man’s fear was palpable, his innocence almost pitiful in its clarity.

Atharva’s expression remained unreadable, a storm of emotions carefully masked behind a cold, steely gaze. But inside, a decision was forming. This man, despite his pitiful pleas, had no further use to him. There was no information to extract, no advantage to gain. The realization brought a wave of frustration crashing over him, but he didn't allow it to break his composure.

Without a word, Atharva reached for his gun, the movement slow and deliberate. The man’s eyes widened in disbelief, his pleas turning into a garbled mess of panic as he realized what was about to happen. But Atharva’s face remained impassive, almost bored, as if the act he was about to commit was merely a routine chore.

In one fluid motion, Atharva pulled the trigger. The shot echoed sharply in the room, silencing the man’s desperate pleas instantly. His body crumpled to the floor, lifeless, as a dark pool began to spread beneath him.

To Atharva, the killing was nothing more than a minor inconvenience, a task completed with the same detachment one might have while swatting a fly. His frustration wasn’t in the act of killing itself but in the wasted time, the dead end this man had turned out to be.

In Atharva's world, it didn’t matter if you spoke the truth or lied through your teeth. If you crossed him, if you played with him, your fate was sealed. The outcome was always the same. The death.

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Avantika lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, her eyes wide open despite the late hour. Sleep eluded her, chased away by the swirling storm of stress and frustration that had taken root in her mind. No matter how many times she shifted positions, trying to find comfort, her body remained tense, her thoughts too loud to allow any rest.