" 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐧 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐡 "
Advait Agnihotry... He was my pride.
My heart.
The reason I breathed.
But now... now for the first time in my life-I qu...
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"Well, it's her husband standing beside her right now." A low snarl escaped my lips the moment I saw him standing next to my wife. The sight of him, too close to Diya, ignited a primal fury within me I had never been one to tolerate any form of encroachment on what belonged to me, and Diya was no exception.
The very notion of sharing her was utterly unacceptable. The thought of another man breathing the same air as her made my blood boil, a wave of distrust crashing through my mind, ready to obliterate everything in its path.
"Diy—Diya?" The man standing in front of me uttered her name, his voice laced with hurt and betrayal. The sound of his voice only fueled my anger further.
I tightened my grip on her waist, yanking her closer to me. My hold was firm, almost possessive, and though it would surely leave a mark on her skin, I ignored the pain I might be causing her.
I had no intention of scaring her off; my primary focus was to assert my dominance and protect what was mine.
As the man took a step towards her, his eyes drinking in her beauty with a gaze that seemed to savor every inch of her, my teeth ground together in sheer rage. His attempt to reach out towards her snapped the last thread of my patience.
I stepped forward, shoving him backward with a forceful push, my hands firmly on his chest. My eyes flared with a warning that left no room for misinterpretation.
"Ad-Advait, he is—" Diya began to speak, but one look from me silenced her. Her lips snapped shut as she bit down on her lower lip, a clear sign of her discomfort.
My gaze returned to the man standing before me. His audacity was infuriating, his eyes still locked on Diya despite the clear threat I posed. If it weren’t for my restraint, I would have made sure he never dared to approach her again.
The thought of causing him harm crossed my mind, and the guilt of such an act lingered in my thoughts, but my protective instincts overpowered any feelings of remorse.
"Look here, motherfucker. The woman you’re trying to get close to is my wife. So you better keep your distance. If I catch you even breathing in her direction again, a mere threat will be the least of your concerns."
I growled bitterly, my voice dripping with menace. His eyes widened in hesitation, and he took a step back, his posture reflecting vulnerability and helplessness.
He looked down, his hands curling into tight fists, as if the weight of his predicament was too much for him to bear.
Spare me the melodrama. I was beyond caring about his emotional turmoil.
"Um, it's good to see you again, Diya. I'll take my leave,"
he muttered, quickly buttoning up his blazer and turning on his heels to leave. His departure was a relief; his presence had been suffocating, and I was certain I would have committed a violent act if he had continued to look at my woman with those eyes.
