Mafia's Revenge Or Love? ~ A Saga Of Love And Revenge

Chapter 25

As he walked away, his team fell in step behind him, the basement door slamming shut behind them. The echoes of Yuvaan’s words lingered in the air long after he had gone, leaving Subhash and Sita broken and hollow, their empire crumbling before their eyes.
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Natasha’s eyes snapped open, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she gasped for air. But the fear that had once plagued her was gone—replaced with a burning fury that radiated from her core. She blinked hard, her vision blurred for a moment before finally clearing. She looked around, taking in her surroundings with a sharp focus. The room was entirely foreign to her—lavish but suffocating, draped in deep crimson curtains and dark, expensive wood furniture. She wasn’t in Yuvaan’s estate. This was something else. Something worse.

As she tried to steady herself, a figure came into view. He was sitting leisurely across from her, dressed in a tailored suit that screamed power, lounging in a high-backed chair like a king surveying his domain. His eyes were locked on her, gleaming with amusement as he watched her struggle to comprehend where she was.

“Woke up, princess?” he drawled, a smirk playing on his lips.

The word “princess” made her stomach twist in disgust. How dare he? She was not some delicate, submissive princess for him to control or patronize. No, she was a queen—a ruler of her own life, her own fate. And she wasn’t about to let anyone, least of all this man, think they had any power over her.

She sat up straighter, her face hardening into a cold mask of defiance as she stared him down. “Who are you?” she demanded, her voice laced with authority, each word sharp as a blade.

The man chuckled softly, completely unfazed by her tone. He leaned forward slightly, his eyes never leaving hers. “Your husband, darling. Yuvraj Singh Rathore,” he said, his voice smooth and dripping with arrogance.

The words hit her like a punch to the gut, her heart skipping a beat in shock. But she recovered quickly, her shock transforming into a cold, simmering rage. She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms as she processed his words. Husband? Who the hell did he think he was?

“You. Are. Not. My. Husband,” Natasha spat, each word filled with venom, her eyes blazing with hatred.

Yuvraj’s smirk widened, clearly enjoying her reaction. He tilted his head slightly, as if amused by her defiance. “Ah, but the world thinks otherwise,” he replied nonchalantly. “The world believes you married me, darling.”

Natasha’s blood boiled at his audacity. She met his gaze with an icy glare, her chin lifted high, every inch of her exuding the pride and strength she had fought to build. “Then let me make something clear, Yuvraj Singh Rathore,” she said, her voice steady and unwavering. “I am Natasha Yuvaan Singhania. My husband is Yuvaan Singhania. Not you.”

The mention of Yuvaan’s name caused Yuvraj’s expression to darken, his eyes narrowing with fury. For a brief moment, his calm, arrogant facade cracked, revealing the storm of rage beneath. He stood up abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor as he loomed over her, his fists clenched in anger.

“You need to learn your place, *princess*,” he growled, his voice low and threatening.

Without warning, he began unbuttoning his shirt as he moved toward her with slow, deliberate steps. Natasha's heart pounded in her chest, but not from fear. She knew what men like him wanted—control. But she was not someone who would break so easily. She calculated her next move as he advanced, her muscles tensing in preparation.

She tried to rise from the bed, her mind racing to find a way out, but Yuvraj was faster. Before she could escape, his hand shot out, grabbing her wrist in a bruising grip. He yanked her toward him with brutal force, pulling her body against his as she struggled to free herself. His breath was hot against her face, and the sickening hunger in his eyes made her skin crawl.