THE RECURRING

✨ Shadows of the Past

ARJUN'S POV :

"L'ho trovata, è in terapia intensiva... Come faccio a saperlo? Vieni il prima possibile"

("I found her, she's in intensive care... How do I know? Come as soon as possible)

I was about to go near Sanvi but suddenly the whole room was filled with men pointing their guns towards everyone except the unknown lady...

Then a man covered in a mask walked towards Sanvi and held her hand, whispering something in her ear and walked out of the room carrying her in a bridal style...

I hit the man holding the gun in front of me and a stinging pain shot through my neck and everything blacked out...

AUTHOR'S POV

Arjun's world blurred, consciousness slipping away like sand through his fingers. The last thing he remembered was the sting of a needle piercing his skin, followed by muffled voices and the sound of footsteps crunching on the gravel. The faces surrounding him were grim, their features hard with resolve. Arjun knew they were Volkov's men as they  had been efficient, coldly calculated in their execution. There was no time to struggle. His body failed him before his mind could even process the danger.

Now, as Arjun drifted in and out of a dreamless void, the world around him continued to move. Days passed, events unfolding that he had no part in. His mind fought through the haze, struggling to break free from the deep sedation that kept him locked away in darkness.

When he finally opened his eyes, the room he found himself in was dimly lit. He blinked, adjusting to the weak light seeping in through drawn curtains. His limbs felt heavy, sluggish, as if they hadn’t been used for days.

He tried to sit up, but pain flared through his body, and he winced, lying back down against the soft mattress. His mind was slow to catch up with reality, but pieces of it were coming back—fragments of what had happened.

Aaron Volkov. His men. Sanvi.

Sanvi.

Her name brought a rush of clarity, but it also filled him with dread. He had been taken, sedated for who knew how long, but what had become of her? Arjun gritted his teeth and forced his body to respond. Pushing through the pain, he sat up again, this time managing to stay upright. The room spun for a moment, but then settled. He was in a sparsely furnished bedroom, but it was too refined, too elegant to be any ordinary place. Heavy wooden furniture, fine silk curtains, and a lingering scent of incense hinted at wealth, old money.

The door creaked open. Arjun’s heart rate spiked, adrenaline cutting through the fog that still clung to his senses. A man entered—tall, dressed in dark clothing, his expression unreadable.

“Aaron…” Arjun’s voice was hoarse, barely a whisper.

“No.” The man stepped further into the room, his sharp features illuminated by the faint light. His dark eyes bore into Arjun, calculating. “I’m not Aaron.”

Arjun’s brow furrowed as he tried to place him. It wasn’t Aaron Volkov, but there was something familiar about the man—something in the way he held himself, the cold detachment in his gaze.

“Who—”

“Sanvi’s brother.” The man answered before Arjun could finish. “I’m Sanvi’s brother. And you’re not going anywhere.”