Sacred Games Of Twisted Fate {18+}

*REGRET LAYING A FINGER ON HER*

***author's pov***

As soon as Arjun heard Aayara's sobs crackling through the line, a dark wave of anger washed over him. The vulnerability in her voice ignited something primal within him, a protective instinct that surged to the forefront.

“Someone touched his wife!” The thought seared through his mind, and he felt his blood boil at the mere idea of anyone daring to lay a hand on her.

“I am coming!” he roared into the phone, his voice deep and menacing. He didn’t bother waiting for her response before he cut the call, his heart pounding in his chest as adrenaline surged through his veins.

Arjun’s mind raced as he stormed out of his office, thoughts of Aayara and the violation she had experienced consuming him. He didn’t understand why this anger gripped him so fiercely, but it was undeniable. She was his—his wife—and no one had the right to threaten her safety or dignity.

He pushed past his colleagues, the sharp click of his shoes echoing in the hallways, oblivious to the curious looks and whispered questions that followed him. He felt a dark intensity radiating from him, an energy that demanded respect and feared nothing.

As he reached the parking lot, he fumbled with his keys, his mind already calculating how he would confront Mr. Ajay. The thought of that man’s hands on Aayara made his stomach churn. He couldn’t let this slide; he wouldn’t allow anyone to think they could harm her without facing the consequences.

The engine roared to life as he sped out of the lot, determination etched on his face. He could feel the heat of his anger simmering beneath the surface, and he had only one goal: to protect Aayara at all costs.

As he drove, thoughts of how she must be feeling flooded his mind. She had always been so sweet, so innocent about the world and its darker sides. It angered him that someone had taken advantage of her naivety. No matter how cold he had been in their relationship, he realized in that moment that he could not bear the thought of her suffering alone.

Aayara needed him, and he would not let her down. As the city blurred by, all he could think about was making things right, confronting whoever had dared to threaten the safety of his wife. The drive felt like a blur of rage and resolve, but deep down, a flicker of something else ignited within him—a desire to protect and cherish her, to show her that she was worth fighting for, even if it took a confrontation that would shake their world to its core.

Arjun's hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as he accelerated down the road, the engine of his Porsche roaring in response to his fury. His mind was a chaotic whirl of emotions—jealousy, possessiveness, and a burning desire to protect what was rightfully his. A low growl escaped his lips as he recalled Aayara's sobs, each one driving the knife of rage deeper into his heart. No one can make her cry but me. No one!

With a swift movement, he opened the glove compartment and pulled out his gun, feeling its cold metal weight in his palm. The familiarity of it calmed him slightly, grounding him in the moment. He was a man of power and influence, not only as a billionaire businessman but also as an underworld mafia leader. In his world, weakness was a luxury he could not afford, and his emotions, while tumultuous, only fueled his resolve.

As he glanced in the rearview mirror, he could see his men trailing behind him in their black SUVs, each one aware of the tension that filled the air. They had been trained to follow his lead, to understand the gravity of his anger. They were loyal, and they knew that Arjun would not hesitate to act when it came to protecting his territory—or his wife.

His thoughts raced as he navigated the streets, the scenery blurring past him in a haze. Aayara was not just his wife; she was his property, and he would not share her with anyone. The underworld code was clear: once something belonged to him, it was his alone. He felt a surge of possessiveness wash over him at the thought of Mr. Ajay’s hands on her, and he tightened his grip on the steering wheel.