Two unrequited lovers were to meet that day, becoming one soul in a requited love.
She watches her hopes burn down with the mansion, consumed by the betrayal that destroyed everything. Her stepfather's flames took her love and his family.
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Seve...
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"Just breathe," she mutters under breath, but the words dissolve into hysterical chuckles, bubbling up uncontrollably. Years of experience with abduction tells her she's in an abandoned warehouse, yet the strength to search for an escape eludes her. They hold her captive for a purpose she dreads to face. Her limbs ache from hours of being chained, and still her abductor doesn't show. Left alone with her thoughts, nothing can go worse then, right?
How did she end in this? Ah, ever since the old man announced her as the rightful heir to the throne, it had been a nightmare that isn't any less nightmarish than the past. But now, one rival after another abduct her, leaving her battered and bleeding yet somehow still alive to endure another ordeal. Pathetic. That was precisely what the old man wanted, and the desperate fools had walked straight into his trap.
She sighs as sweat trickles down her face, her body itching from the mix of dust and perspiration. Her eyes scan the darkness for a hint of light, not out of fear but to confirm whether she's alive or trapped in hell. The darkness no longer shatters her spirit; she was becoming accustomed to everything she shouldn't have to abide.
The sliding door opens with a smooth, gliding whoosh, followed by soft clatter as it settles into place. A sudden shaft of light slaps across her face,, making her curse under breathe as it burns her skin. The chains rattle at her frustrated jerk, a vain attempt to find comfort in her restraints. She can hear the slow, deliberate footsteps approaching-slower than a snail's pace, as though he's savoring each moment. Does he realize he's inviting a death sentence upon himself?
Her vision struggles to focus on the silhouette emerging from the light into darkness. Yet, something about him feels less intimidated than she expected. Instead of being cautious, she senses a strange peace settling over after seven long years-a peace that her stepfather shattered right before her eyes.
His presence demands obedience, yet she feels found after being lost for so long. She can't explain it, but her pulse quickens as he steps closer, standing tall in front of her. As if sensing her unspoken thoughts, he leans down grabbing her chin harshly and lifting her to her feet. His eyes lock into hers, but she can barely figure out who he is.
The pain isn't from his grip; it comes from the flicker of hope igniting in her heart. "Could those hazel eyes belong to him?" Her heart races with anticipation. She remembers the old man slashing away her faint hope of ever being loved. She scolds herself for being delusional-he couldn't be alive. She watched the mansion burn, consumed by betrayal that destroyed everything. The darkness around her feels suffocating. Had he been alive all this time while she cursed and punished herself for not preventing the tragedy? As if, she could.
"Remember me, Lasha." His voice in low, sending shivers down her spine. His grip tightens on her chin, and her lips part in shock. She can never forget his voice; it's her lullaby amid days of terrors.
"You...alive?" She barely manages to whisper. Her heart flips in every direction, her mind racing through countless possibilities.
"Shouldn't I be, Lashika Mauryavanshi? Or should I say, crowned princess of The Mauryavanshi Syndicate." His mockery drips with hatred. Lasha's breathe hitches at the sound of her name; she wants to retort, "Crowned princess, a mere pawn in his dirty games." But his tone makes it clear he isn't seeking explanation-he's searching for a target to strike.
