Veins Of Obsession

CH - 13 ( The Unveiling of Truth )

The warehouse was silent, the tension hanging thickly in the air. Ishaan’s dark eyes never left Saanvi’s, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Saanvi felt her pulse quicken, but she kept her expression calm, steeling herself for whatever came next. They were standing amidst the aftermath—Siya's groans of pain fading into the background. This was no longer about the confrontation that had just ended. This was about the truth—the truth they both knew but had never spoken aloud.

Ishaan stepped closer, his demeanor shifting from the calm exterior he had worn to something darker, colder. He was inches from Saanvi now, his hand trailing up to cup her face. The gentle touch was a contrast to the menace in his gaze, and it sent a shiver through her. His voice, low and deadly, cut through the silence.

Ishaan: (with a mocking smile) “Guess what, Saanvi... I knew everything from the start. Every little detail. Your visit to Bangalore, the sudden appearance of the infamous Mafia Queen—who, might I add, was supposed to be some invisible phantom—and your oh-so-pathetic little kidnapping stunt...”

He paused, his thumb brushing over her lips, his gaze turning cold and calculating.

Ishaan: (leaning closer, his voice a harsh whisper) “You did that to figure out who the real Mafia King was, didn’t you? Thought you were playing a clever game. But here's the truth... I saw right through your pathetic act.”

Saanvi’s eyes flickered, but she refused to look away. Instead, she smirked, raising an eyebrow, the cold confidence in her eyes matching his.

Saanvi: (smiling sweetly) “Is that so? Then I suppose you also know that I figured out your little secret long before you thought, my dear Ishaan. Your every move, your every lie, your pathetic attempts at trying to play me... I knew who you were even before I agreed to this charade.”

She leaned into his touch, her smile turning dangerous, mocking his arrogance. But he only chuckled, the sound low and almost predatory.

Ishaan: (softly, deadly) “Oh, I’m not surprised. You were always a little too clever for your own good. But you still don’t know everything, Saanvi. Not yet.”

He straightened, his eyes hardening as he finally let go of her face. His smile faded, replaced by a cold, calculating stare.

Ishaan: “Do you want to know why I wanted to marry you? Why I pursued this twisted game of ours? It’s not just about power, not just about uniting our so-called families. It’s about revenge. About setting right what your family did to mine.”

Saanvi’s smirk wavered just a fraction, her expression tightening as she narrowed her eyes.

Saanvi: (her voice cold, dangerous) “Revenge? Oh, please, Ishaan. Don't tell me you're just another broken boy trying to avenge some old family feud. That’s so... boring.”

But Ishaan's eyes burned with something darker—something raw and twisted. He stepped closer, his hand sliding around her waist, pulling her against him with a possessive grip.

Ishaan: (his voice harsh and intense) “You don’t get it, do you, Saanvi? Your family—your perfectly respectable family—destroyed everything. They crushed my father, humiliated him, broke him, and left him to rot. I watched my family fall apart because of yours. So, I’ve been patient, I’ve been so patient, biding my time, building my empire from the shadows... waiting for the right moment to strike.”

He leaned down, his lips barely an inch from hers, his eyes blazing with fury and desire.

Ishaan: (smiling cruelly) “And what better revenge than to make you mine, to take the pride of the Mehra family and bend you to my will? To make you fall in love with me and then crush you the same way your family crushed mine?”

Saanvi's breath hitched, but she refused to flinch, meeting his gaze with a defiant smile.

Saanvi: (smirking, her voice taunting) “Is that what you think? That I’m some fragile, innocent girl you can manipulate and break? Oh, Ishaan, you’re playing with fire. You want revenge, and I understand that. But don’t forget... I’m not a pawn in your twisted game. I’m the Queen, and I never lose.”

Ishaan’s grip on her waist tightened, his eyes burning with a dangerous mix of desire and fury. He pulled her closer, his lips brushing against her ear, his voice dropping to a whisper that sent chills down her spine.

Ishaan: (darkly) “And that’s why I chose you, Saanvi. Because you’re not fragile. You’re ruthless, cunning, and every bit as twisted as I am. We’re the same, you and I. This isn’t a game for you to win or lose... it’s a war. And I intend to enjoy every second of it.”

Saanvi’s smirk turned cold, and she tilted her head, her eyes glinting with a savage amusement that matched his.

Saanvi: (softly, her tone mocking) “Then I guess we’re in for one hell of a war, Ishaan. But don’t get too comfortable. I don’t lose, and I certainly don’t break. So, if you think for a second that you’re going to win... you’re already losing.”

He laughed, the sound dark and almost joyful, as if her defiance only thrilled him more.

Ishaan: (softly) “Oh, I wouldn’t have it any other way, darling. Now that the masks are off, let’s see who burns first.”

For a long, tense moment, they simply stared at each other, a storm brewing between them, both too proud and too stubborn to back down. They were on equal ground now—two predators circling each other, neither willing to yield.

But one thing was clear—they were far from finished.

The Days Leading to the Wedding

The house was a flurry of activity, laughter, and anticipation as the wedding week began. Despite the tension simmering between Saanvi and Ishaan, the joy of the ceremonies seemed to fill every corner. Family and friends gathered, each with their own stories and secrets, as the events unfolded one
by one.

The house was decorated in marigolds, red roses, and twinkling fairy lights, a true representation of an extravagant Indian wedding. The scent of jasmine and rose hung heavy in the air as the hustle and bustle of preparations reached a fever pitch. It was a time of joy, teasing, and of course, a little bit of mischief.

Aahana was laughing with a group of friends, her bright smile lighting up the room. Rohan couldn’t take his eyes off her as he watched from a distance, leaning against a pillar with a smirk. Finally, unable to resist, he approached her.

Rohan: (teasing) “You’ve been ignoring me all day. Should I be jealous?”

Aahana: (grinning) “Maybe you should be, Rohan. I’m a busy woman, you know.”

He chuckled, stepping closer, lowering his voice.

Rohan: “You look beautiful when you’re busy... but even more so when you’re paying attention to me.”

Aahana: (rolling her eyes) “Flattery won’t work, Rohan. I know your tricks.”

He reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

Rohan: “Maybe... but I think you like my tricks more than you admit.”

She blushed slightly, but a challenge sparked in her eyes, and she playfully shoved him away.

Aahana: “Get over yourself, Rohan. I have a wedding to help manage.”