Sacred Games Of Twisted Fate {18+}

*lost him. forever*

***AUTHOR'S POV***

Arjun breathed in and out, struggling to control the rage burning inside him as reporters swarmed around him, their cameras flashing like daggers. "Mr. Oberoi Singhania, why did your wife invite her ex-boyfriend to the party?" one of them shouted, the question echoing in the air like a cruel taunt.

The great Arjun Oberoi Singhania, a man known for his composure and authority, felt the humiliation wash over him as he stood there, exposed. His jaw clenched tightly, and his hands tightened around the glass he held. Dia and Meera exchanged satisfied glances, their smirks growing wider as they savored the spectacle unfolding before them.

Meanwhile, Aayara stood frozen, her heart racing as she caught sight of Arjun's dark expression. His eyes were stormy, filled with a mixture of anger and hurt that made her stomach twist. She could feel the weight of his gaze on her, and the tension in the air was suffocating.

With a sudden, violent crack, the glass in Arjun's hand shattered, splintering into pieces. Aayara gasped, her eyes widening as she saw the blood oozing from his palm, the crimson droplets contrasting sharply against the pristine white of his shirt. The sight sent a chill down her spine, her heart racing with fear.

"Arjun!" she exclaimed, stepping forward instinctively. But the moment she moved, the crowd quieted, all eyes shifting towards her, the whispers of mockery abruptly halting.

Arjun's expression darkened further as he glanced at the blood on his hand, but his eyes quickly found Aayara's. The sight of her concern only fueled the fire inside him. "Stay back," he warned in a low, dangerous tone, his voice barely controlled.

Aayara hesitated, torn between the urge to comfort him and the fear of provoking his wrath further. She could feel the atmosphere in the room shift, and the realization that she had inadvertently become the center of attention made her heart race.

The reporters, sensing a new angle to the story, crowded closer, cameras aimed at Arjun, ready to capture every moment of this unfolding drama. "Mr. Oberoi, is this how you treat your wife?" another reporter called out, their voice laced with mock concern.

Aayara's heart sank as the weight of the situation settled upon her. She could feel the humiliation flooding back in waves, the laughter of Dia and Meera ringing in her ears.

"Get out," Arjun snapped at the reporters, his voice cold and commanding. The intensity of his anger was palpable, and he turned to Aayara, his expression a mixture of fury and pain. "Why would you bring him here?"

"I didn't-" she began, but the words caught in her throat as she looked into his furious eyes. She could see the disappointment reflected in them, and it cut deeper than any insult.

Before she could gather her thoughts, Dia chimed in, her voice dripping with condescension, "Maybe she just wanted to remind you of who she really is, Arjun. Aayara's past isn't so innocent after all."

The crowd stirred, and Aayara felt her cheeks burn with shame. Arjun's gaze shifted back to Dia, his expression darkening even more. "Enough," he growled, but the damage was done.

Aayara stood there, feeling as if the walls were closing in around her, the laughter and whispers ringing in her ears, a constant reminder of the shame she felt. Arjun, the man who was supposed to stand by her, was now caught in a storm of anger and jealousy, and she didn't know how to bridge the widening chasm between them.

Arjun's blood continued to drip onto the floor, pooling beneath him as he fought to keep his composure. Aayara's eyes widened in horror, the sight of his injury igniting a desperate need to tend to him. She stepped forward again, but this time, he didn't stop her.

"Let me help you," she pleaded, her voice shaking.

But he simply turned away, focusing on the reporters once more, a wall of anger and hurt building between them. The night spiraled further into chaos, each taunt and each gaze digging deeper into Aayara's heart, while Arjun struggled with his own demons, unsure of how to protect her-or himself-from the world they were caught in.

It was the first time Arjun had ignored her. Even after being cold and ruthless toward her, he had never turned his back on her like this. Aayara stood frozen in place, her heart pounding in her chest, watching as the guests began to laugh and whisper amongst themselves, their eyes darting between her and Arjun, delighting in the drama that had unfolded before them.

A wave of humiliation washed over Aayara, and she felt her cheeks flush with shame. How could this be happening? She glanced at Arjun, desperate for a sign of the husband she thought she was beginning to understand, but all she saw was a man hardened by anger and betrayal, a dark cloud enveloping him as he remained silent, glaring at the guests.

"Look at him," one guest whispered, barely concealing a smirk. "The great Arjun Oberoi Singhania humiliated by his own wife."

"She must be so proud," another added, a laugh escaping their lips.

Aayara's stomach twisted at their words, the laughter echoing in her ears like a cruel mockery. She could hardly breathe, her mind racing as she tried to comprehend how everything had spiraled out of control. Arjun, the man she had married, the man who had once shown her a glimpse of warmth, was now standing there, a wounded lion, completely disregarding her presence.

"Why won't you just talk to me?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the chatter of the crowd. But he didn't respond. Instead, he continued to focus on the reporters, his jaw clenched, the blood on his palm staining the white marble floor, a stark reminder of his inner turmoil.

The weight of his indifference crushed her, and she felt a knot forming in her throat. This was worse than any taunt or insult; it was the realization that the bond they had started to forge was teetering on the brink of collapse. The laughter from the crowd intensified, and Aayara felt as though the walls were closing in on her.

"Look at her, so smug," a voice chimed from the back of the room. "Didn't even bother to think of her husband's feelings."

The sting of their words cut deep, and for the first time, Aayara felt utterly alone in a room full of people. She had tried so hard to prove herself, to show Arjun that she could be the wife he needed, yet here she was, standing at the center of their twisted game, a pawn in a scheme she never asked to be a part of.

Finally, unable to bear it any longer, she took a step forward, her heart racing. "Arjun, please," she said, her voice breaking. "I didn't invite him. I didn't want this. You have to believe me."

His gaze flickered briefly to her, and for a moment, she saw a flicker of pain in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a hardened resolve. He turned away again, and Aayara felt her heart shatter.

"Are you really going to let them laugh at you like this?" she pressed, desperation clawing at her. "I'm your wife!"

He remained silent, and the realization hit her like a slap. He was not just angry; he was shutting her out entirely. The laughter around her grew louder, and Aayara felt her composure slipping. She was about to lose everything-her dignity, her marriage, and the man she had started to love.

As the party continued around them, she could no longer stay in the spotlight, not like this. The eyes of the guests felt like daggers piercing through her skin. With one last look at Arjun, she turned away, her heart heavy with despair. She pushed through the crowd, tears stinging her eyes as she made her way toward the exit, needing to escape the suffocating atmosphere that had turned her world upside down.

Arjun didn't stop her this time, nor did he call her name. The silence between them echoed louder than any laugh or taunt, leaving her to grapple with the pain of his rejection and the haunting question: had she really lost him forever?