Guardian

-:chapter 18:-

The room was suffocating,dark, damp, and reeking of decay. The walls were stained, the air heavy with the weight of forgotten time. In the corner, a woman sat, her frail body slumped against the cold concrete, barely clinging to life. Her clothes were tattered and filthy, hanging off her thin frame as if they, too, had given up. Her chest rose and fell slowly, each breath labored, as if she was breathing merely out of habit rather than will.

The door creaked open, and the air shifted. A man entered, his presence oppressive and heavy. He was in his late fifties, but age had not diminished the cruel glint in his eyes. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with an air of authority that demanded obedience from all those who crossed his path. His aura reeked of dominance, control, and a sadistic pleasure in the suffering of others

He strode towards the woman with a predatory gait, his boots echoing ominously in the silent room. She did not look up-she didn't need to. The tension in the air told her exactly who it was.

"Hello, darling," he drawled, his voice low and dripping with mock affection. He crouched beside her, his fingers reaching out to caress her cheek. The moment his skin touched hers, she jerked away, her body trembling with revulsion.

"Still feisty, huh?" he said with a grin, undeterred by her reaction. His hand hovered near her face, enjoying her discomfort. "That's what I always liked about you, sweetheart."

Her lips curled into a sneer, her disgust for him so palpable it could be tasted in the air. She loathed him with every fiber of her being. This man-this monster-had destroyed her life, shattered her world, and left her to rot in this filthy place.

He chuckled darkly, his fingers brushing against her skin again. "You're still so beautiful, darling," he said, his tone oozing with mock tenderness as he leaned in closer. "If you'd married me, you wouldn't be here. I could've given you everything, so much more than that pathetic husband of yours ever could. What a loser he was-couldn't even save himself."

Before he could react, she spat in his face.

The man's smile vanished, replaced by pure rage. His eyes darkened, and his jaw clenched tightly. "You bitch," he growled, wiping the spit from his cheek. Without hesitation, he grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back violently.

The woman gasped in pain, but she didn't scream. She wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

His hand swung across her face, the slap echoing in the small room. Her body crumpled against the wall, her cheek stinging from the force of the blow, but she didn't move. She lay there, silent, breathing through the pain, her eyes filled with hatred.

The man stared down at her, his chest heaving with anger. "You'll learn," he snarled. "You'll learn, or you'll die here."

He released her hair with a shove and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The sound of the lock clicking into place echoed in the hollow space, leaving her in suffocating silence once more.

The woman stayed where she was, her body trembling from the pain and the lingering touch of his hand. She felt filthy, violated. Slowly, she lay down on the cold floor, curling into herself, trying to make herself as small as possible. Tears slid down her face, but she barely noticed them. Her mind was far away, lost in the memories of a time long gone.

Her sons. She wanted to see them one last time, to hold them, to tell them how much she loved them. She had dreamed of this moment every night since she had been taken-of wrapping her arms around them and feeling their warmth again. But when she had seen her Abhi at the hospital, her heart had broken all over again. He hadn't recognized her. Her own son, grown into a tall, handsome man, had looked right through her as if she were a stranger.