Veins Of Obsession

CH -7 ( The Mafia King Emerges )

The private jet touched down in Bangalore under the cloak of night. Ishaan stepped off, his jaw clenched and his eyes burning with an unholy rage. He had spent years hiding this part of himself from Saanvi, but now, every barrier he had built crumbled under the weight of his fury and desperation.

He made a call, and within minutes, the city's underground was buzzing with the news: Ishaan Mehta, the Mafia King, had arrived, and he wanted information. His dark eyes glinted with the promise of pain for anyone who dared to stand in his way. The lines of his face were sharp, his entire being emanating a lethal energy that sent shivers down the spines of even the most fearless.

Standing at the edge of the city, he sought out the one person who could provide the answers he needed. A cold smile touched his lips as he thought of the Mafia Queen. If anyone knew how to find Saanvi, it was her. He wasn’t above making deals—especially when Saanvi’s life was on the line.

Hours later, he stood in a dimly lit warehouse on the outskirts of the city, his posture relaxed but every muscle coiled like a predator ready to strike. The Mafia Queen watched him from the shadows, intrigued by his desperation, and impressed by his fury.

“I need information,” Ishaan said, his voice dangerously low, his eyes burning with a possessive fire that seemed to swallow the room. “Saanvi Mehra has been taken. I want her found—now.”

The Mafia Queen’s eyes glittered with interest, and she gave him a slow, knowing smile. “And what will you give me in return, Mr. Mehta?” she asked, her voice silken, teasing him with the game.

“Whatever it takes,” he growled, his gaze unflinching. “Money. Power. Blood. Name your price. Just find her.”

The Queen took a step forward, her face still concealed, and studied him. “You’re willing to risk everything for her?” she asked softly, almost as if testing him.

His answer was immediate, without hesitation. “I don’t care what it costs me,” he said, each word carrying the weight of his rage and his possessive, almost obsessive need. “She’s mine. And anyone who touches her will pay.”

The Queen's smile widened, and she nodded. “Very well, Mr. Mehta. I’ll help you. But remember—once you enter this world, there's no going back.”

He didn’t flinch, and didn’t hesitate. “I’m already there,” he said, his gaze piercing through the darkness between them.
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Hours turned into a blur of phone calls, threats, and negotiations. Every resource Ishaan had was deployed, every connection tapped. He was relentless, ruthless, each moment tightening the noose around the unknown kidnappers.

Then, finally, a lead—a secluded hideout in the outskirts of Bangalore. Without waiting for backup, Ishaan stormed the location himself, his heart pounding with a mixture of fury and fear. He kicked down the door, his dark silhouette filling the entrance, casting a long, terrifying shadow.

Saanvi was there—bound but unharmed, her eyes widening with shock and relief the moment she saw him. She had never seen this version of Ishaan, raw and unrestrained, his gaze burning with a mix of fury and a fierce protectiveness that took her breath away.

“I told you,” he said quietly, stepping towards her, his voice barely a whisper but laced with an intensity that made her heart race. “No one touches what’s mine.”

Saanvi’s breath hitched as he cut her free, his hands gentle despite the rage still simmering just beneath the surface. She stared at him, stunned, as he pulled her close, his grip firm and unyielding.