HEALING LEADS TO HEARTBREAK.
"If loving you is madness, then let the world burn-I'd choose your chaos over anyone else's calm."
★★★
Aarti's world is shattered after being betrayed by her first love, leaving her battling not only brain cancer but als...
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R E H A A N
The taste of metal lingered on the air, sharp and acrid, mixing with the earthy dampness that clung to the basement walls. The only light in the room came from a single, bare bulb swinging overhead-casting restless, trembling shadows across the concrete floor.
My shoes echoed on the stone as I walked a slow, deliberate circle around the man tied to the chair. Blood smeared on his right cheek, his head drooping forward and heavy. The ropes bit cruelly into his flesh-tighter than necessary, but mercy was a luxury he'd never earned.
I paused behind him, arms folded, listening to the faint hum of his ragged breathing. A drop of sweat traced its way down the back of his neck, catching the light before falling away.
"You know," I said quietly, my voice as calm as the night outside, "I don't enjoy this. Contrary to what you've been told."
The man shifted, pain pinching his brow, but he didn't look up. "Just tell me what you want, Rehaan," he spat the words out like a challenge, but there was a tremor in his tone he couldn't hide.
I suppressed a smile-a small, cold thing-and stepped into his line of sight. My reflection flickered in his glassy eyes: black shirt, sleeves rolled up, no need to play at respectability here.
"What I want?" I pulled a silk handkerchief from my pocket, dabbing at a crimson stain on my knuckles before kneeling down, level with his face. "I want to know why a man like you, who's had everything handed to him, spends so much time searching for what he can never control."
Silence. His breathing hitched, a thin whimper escaping the façade of bravado.
"What did my cousin ever do to make you chase ghosts in the dark?" I continued, my words steady, gentle-each syllable a needle. "You've caused trouble for years. Retribution has been long overdue."
"You remember his name, don't you?" My voice, low and steady, cut through the darkness. "Veeranshu Suryavanshi. You marked him in childhood. Made him bleed-inside and out. You ruined things you never understood."
He spat blood, his chest hitching. "That was years ago."
I leaned close, the lamp cutting a sharp crescent over my jaw. "Years don't forgive sins. Here, time means nothing. Only memory-and consequence."
I let gloved fingers drift over the tray of gleaming steel: knives, pliers, a length of coiled wire-each tool chosen for precision, each selected to make him remember the face of every boy he ever broke.
"Veeranshu's pain became my duty," I murmured, picking up a slender blade. "California may have given you freedom, but you walked straight into judgment."
