Shadowed Obsession: The devil's waltz of obsession

❀4. Unveiling Shadows❀

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

**Anya's Pov**

The world outside moved on as usual, oblivious to the storm brewing inside me. After last night's events, I was left with more questions than answers. The messages, the gift-each detail whispered of danger, lurking just beneath the surface. Something worse was on the horizon. I could feel it, creeping closer with every breath.

It had been three days since I received that last text message. Three days of silence, yet there was no relief. The quiet was suffocating, as if the world itself was holding its breath, waiting for the storm to break.

Standing in front of the mirror, I fumbled with my earrings. My hands were unsteady, the cold metal slipping through my fingers. Then my phone rang. The sharp sound cut through the stillness, and my stomach flipped as I glanced at the screen-another unknown number.

Again.

I hesitated, fingers trembling over the screen, before answering.

"Hello?"

Silence. A pause that stretched on far too long. Then, that voice-low, soft, and disturbingly intimate.

"Miss me, Doll?"

My heart stuttered, the room tilting for a second as his words sunk in. The familiar shiver of dread crawled up my spine.

"Who the hell are you?" I snapped, trying to mask the panic rising in my throat, my grip on the dressing table tightening to steady myself.

A soft chuckle, like a predator toying with its prey. "Still feisty. That's why I like you..." he mused, his voice a silken threat. "You'll see me soon enough."

The line went dead, leaving the silence to press down on me, heavy and suffocating. My hand shook as I slammed the phone down on the table. Every fiber of my being screamed that I wasn't safe. I couldn't just sit here, waiting for whatever this psycho had planned. I needed answers. Now.

At work, the day crawled by, each minute stretching endlessly. My mind was a battlefield, torn between the tasks in front of me and the growing fear that gnawed at my gut. I couldn't focus. I couldn't think straight. Nisha, my secretary, handed me the morning brief, her eyes flickering with concern as she took in my frazzled state.

"Miss Shekhawat, are you alright?" she asked, her voice soft, almost hesitant.

I forced a tight smile, my lips barely curving. "Yeah I'm fine, Nisha. Just...a lot on my mind."

Her gaze lingered for a moment, but I couldn't handle her scrutiny. I quickly turned back to my computer, trying to appear busy. Before she could press further, the door swung open.

Dev Malhotra strolled in, his presence dominating the room like a shadow stretching across the walls. Impeccably dressed, as always, with his signature air of confidence. But today, something about him made my skin crawl. His smile, too smooth, too calculated, didn't quite reach his eyes.

(Dev is the son of Vikram's best friend and his business partner, Vijay)

"Anya" he greeted me, his voice dripping with casual arrogance. "I thought I'd stop by and see how you're doing. Haven't seen you around much lately."

I stiffened, swallowing the bitter taste that rose in my throat. "I've been busy, Dev. And if you can see I am still busy. Anyways what brings you here?

His smile widened, predatory. " Can't a man check in on a friend?"

Friend. The word felt wrong coming from him, like a mask hiding something far more dangerous beneath. My pulse quickened as I met his gaze, but I kept my expression neutral.