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"Truth yet to relieve"
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˚ ༘♡ 🪷🪕🪞🦢⋆。˚ ❀The scent of jasmine and fresh flowers hung thick in the air, a heady reminder that my Siya was finally becoming mine, officially, forever. I could picture it already: her hand, adorned with intricate mehendi patterns, the ink darkening as it dried, etched with my name somewhere on her skin. Just thinking about it sent a rush of possessive pride through me. Every whisper, every look, every touch, every promise; all mine. She would be my wife by the end of this, a title no one else could take from me.
My phone buzzed, pulling me from the visions of the wedding night that had started to play out in my mind. My thoughts snapped to the present. The name on the screen wasn't one I recognized; an unknown number. In an instant, a flicker of irritation surfaced. Who dares interrupt Hukum Adhiraj Singh Rathore?
I picked up the call, expecting it to be a last-minute vendor or perhaps one of the men who worked under me. But the voice that came through was neither familiar nor expected. It was low, dripping with a sinister satisfaction that made the hair on my neck prickle.
"Congratulations, Hukum-sa," the voice taunted.
"I heard you're finally getting what you want... Siya, as your wife," A twisted, mocking laugh followed. I recognized that laugh anywhere, it was him. Devraj. My grip tightened on the phone, but I forced myself to stay silent, listening to his every word, refusing to give him the satisfaction of rattling me. He wouldn't get it. Not now, not ever.
"Tell me, Hukum-sa," he sneered.
"Does Siya really love you? Or have you ever stopped to wonder why she suddenly returned to Raipur?" He let that question hang, thick and heavy with implication. I swallowed, my jaw clenched. His words made no sense, why would I doubt Siya? But there was a prickling at the back of my mind, a shadow of something left unsaid. I forced calm into my voice. As Devraj's mocking voice lingered in my ear, each word twisting like a knife, my patience snapped. I could barely keep my rage contained, barely hold back the fury that tore through me. He had the audacity to question Siya's loyalty. Her loyalty! The same man who had laid his filthy hands on her, dared to raise his voice and taunt me? I let out a harsh breath, my voice low and deadly as I hissed into the phone.
"Saale, Kitna himmat hai na tere mein?"
"You've got some nerve, don't you, you bastard?" I asked, tossing the dice idly in my hand, each roll reminding me of the pain he dared to inflict on Siya. Devraj's laugh came through, laced with mock confidence.
"Tujh se hi sikha hai mere dost."
"I learned from the best, my friend," I chuckled darkly, letting the edge of my words slice through the silence, laced with the anger simmering inside me.
"Haan toh jab samne tere aaunga, toh yeh himmat rakhe rehna. Kyunki jis tarah se tu chupa hai, pata hai mujhe teri gili ho gayi hai."
"Oh, keep that courage when I stand before you because the way you're hiding, I know you're scared out of your wits!"
YOU ARE READING
Mrs. Regal Rathore #1
Ficción GeneralSiya's life in Chandipur was marked by resilience and solitude, her days consumed by nurturing the vibrant blooms of her flower shop. Abandoned at birth and haunted by the mystery of her parents' disappearance, she had grown accustomed to the whispe...