Nandini 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...
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I didn’t think twice as I used my powers to render her unconscious. She went limp in my arms almost instantly, her head falling against my chest as I cradled her in a bridal style. The house was dark, the air thick with the quiet aftermath of our encounter. With a small gesture of my hand, the lights flickered back on as I stepped outside. The car roared to life at my command, and I lowered her gently onto my lap, her soft breath warm against my neck as she remained unconscious.
I was driving, but my mind was elsewhere. How was I going to make her remember? The memories, the love we shared, the bond that she had forgotten— that I made her forget .
I hadn’t thought about the consequences when I used my powers to erase her memories. At the time, it seemed like the only way to keep her safe, to protect her . But now, seeing her like this—fearful, confused, trapped in the lies I’d spun—I couldn’t help but regret it.
The car sped along the darkened road, the engine humming beneath me. As I approached the crossing, an idea hit me like a lightning bolt. Her old house. The place where it all started, where everything had gone so terribly wrong. Maybe... just maybe, I could trigger her memories there.
As if sensing my thoughts, I felt her stir against me. Her body shifted, and a soft groan escaped her lips. She was waking up. Slowly, she blinked her eyes open, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings with confusion. Before she could react, I used my powers to bind her wrists with a swirling mix of black and red mist. The mist coiled around her hands, not tight enough to hurt but enough to keep her still.
“Don’t move,” I warned, my voice was low and dangerous as I continued to drive. “Or I won’t be responsible for the consequences.”
Her body froze, and I could feel her tensing in my lap, her breathing growing shallow. She must have realized what I was talking about—the way she was unintentionally grinding against me. The pressure of her soft body against mine, the friction, was driving me insane. She must’ve felt the hard bulge pressing against her as she quickly stopped all movement, her body stiffening in response.
I smirked, knowing she was as aware of me as I was of her. But there was no time to indulge in the moment. I needed to focus.
With one hand on the wheel, I reached for my phone and dialed Nitu’s number, putting it on speaker. If anyone could calm her down, it was Nitu.
“Nitu,” I said, my tone was urgent, “tell her to trust me.”
There was a pause, and then Nitu’s voice filled the car. “Nandini, trust him. Please. He won’t hurt you. I promise. You trust me right nanduu..and it's not my fake voice or something ..”she chuckled a little at the end .
Her body tensed again, and I could feel her confusion radiating off her in waves. But Nitu’s words seemed to settle something inside her. She finally spoke, her voice trembling.
“Where... where are you taking me?”
I kept my eyes on the road, my jaw clenched as I responded. “To your old house.”
