⚠️this chapter contains some torture scenes ,skip if u find it uncomfortable
Amara
"She's mine," my voice echoed through the deathly silent room, thick with the metallic scent of blood, the pungency of sweat, the acrid bite of smoke, and the lingering stench of fear and death.
My finger pointed unwaveringly at Priya Rajvansh—my not-so-sweet mother-in-law—who had tormented my husband, my Mann, with relentless cruelty, both physical and emotional. She was now tightly bound to a chair, pristine for the moment, though not for long.
She wouldn't stay this unscathed for much longer, I vowed to myself. Though the world had already borne witness to her vile transgressions, and justice had been meted out for Sharadh papa and Radha Aunty's tragic death—Sharad Rajvansh's ex—the truth had finally absolved Mann of the guilt he had carried, a guilt born from his mother's malicious manipulations.
Yet, despite the exposure of her crimes, it still wasn't enough. Not for me. It surprised me—perhaps I was even a little thankful—that she hadn't been behind my family's deaths.
Had she been, it would have only deepened Mann's torment, compounding his guilt with the burden of being the son of the one who had murdered my parents. But what of all the suffering she inflicted on him? Where was the justice for the years of mental and physical abuse he endured?
"He's mine," Mann and Bhaiyyu declared in unison, their gazes locked on Ayaan, tied up beside his mother, his expression one of eerie calm. He stared back at me, almost as though he found our attention amusing.
"Mann, let me handle him," Bhaiyyu said, a note of cold determination in his voice.
"Yeah? Absolutely not," came my husband's sharp reply, his protective stance unyielding.
"What do you think, Kabir?" Bhaiyyu asked, seeking his brother's opinion.
Kabir, always the mischief-maker, simply grinned as he settled into a chair not too far away, casually munching on popcorn and sipping a Coke. "I think I'll just sit here and watch the show," he replied with a lazy shrug, knowing full well he couldn't outmatch the combined fury of these two men.
He had resigned himself to spectating, but I knew better—he wouldn't mind intervening when the moment called for it.
"And you?" I turned to Adi, who had remained silent, hands tucked into his pockets. "You lost someone precious because of him. Surely you'd want to join the competition?"
He looked at me with a soft smile, stepping back slightly. "Always curious, aren't you, Abhi ki jaan?" he teased, using the nickname he had affectionately given me over the past six months.
I rolled my eyes at him, exasperated by his usual playful tone. Adi chuckled as he ruffled my hair. "I'd join in if I wasn't afraid of killing him the moment I got my hands on him," he said, his smile fading slightly as a darker edge crept into his voice. "You wouldn't like that, would you?"
I shook my head, knowing he was right. Ayaan didn't deserve an easy death. Not after everything.
"Exactly," he continued, his expression hardening. "So, I'll stay back and lend my expertise in torture instead. What do you say, Abhi ki jaan?"
I merely shrugged, offering him a faint smile, which he mirrored before retreating to lean against the wall. Pulling a cigarette from his pocket, he nodded at Zade, who handed him a lighter. Together, they lit their cigarettes, their gazes fixed on the never-ending bickering between Mann and Bhaiyyu.
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