Sacred Games Of Twisted Fate {18+}

*WHO DID THIS! *

***author's pov***

☪︎ ָ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

Arjun’s face transformed, darkening as he pieced together the accident. The servants’ words echoed in his mind—there had been oil on the stairs, deliberately placed to harm her. Who would dare to hurt his wife under his roof?

He tucked Aayara into the blankets, ensuring she was comfortable before he turned away, his expression steely. One name immediately surfaced, and he smirked bitterly. Without a moment’s hesitation, he strode out of the room, his steps swift and purpose unwavering as he made his way toward his study. This wasn’t something he would overlook; whoever was responsible would pay for it. His clenched fists and the dark glint in his eyes promised a swift and merciless response.

Arjun sat in his study, enveloped in the dim light that cast shadows across his sharply defined features. His shirt was unbuttoned halfway, exposing the toned muscles beneath, still tense with simmering rage.

The faint glow from the cigarette in his hand flickered, illuminating his chiseled jaw and the slight stubble that traced it, adding a rough edge to his refined look. His eyes, dark and intense, held a smoldering fury as he stared into the empty space in front of him, lost in thought.

The smoke curled around him, giving him an almost dangerous aura, as he leaned back in the chair, crossing one leg over the other. His fingers tapped rhythmically against the armrest, betraying a barely restrained impulse for action.

He looked like a man on the verge of revenge—deadly, determined, and utterly composed.

Soon the door opened revealing a woman .

Meera froze in the doorway, her breath hitching as she took in the dangerous look on Arjun’s face. He leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping slowly against the armrest, his smirk cold and calculating. Smoke trailed from the cigarette between his fingers, giving him an intimidating aura, like a predator waiting to strike.

“So, Meera…” he drawled, his voice deceptively soft. “Care to explain why there was oil on the stairs?”

She swallowed, her composure faltering as his gaze pinned her in place. She tried to respond, but the words caught in her throat under the weight of his stare.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” he continued, his voice laced with menace. “Or were you just hoping I wouldn’t care?”

He flicked the ash from his cigarette, his eyes narrowing. "I don't tolerate mistakes, Meera. Especially when they involve my wife."

Meera’s hands trembled slightly, but she forced herself to keep steady, hoping to mask her fear. "I-I didn't mean for anything serious to happen, Arjun," she managed, her voice barely audible.

Arjun’s smirk deepened. “Didn’t mean to? You know, Meera, I can overlook many things. But when you try to harm Aayara… well, that’s a mistake you’ll regret."

He leaned forward, his eyes dark and unyielding. "Now, give me one good reason why I shouldn’t make you pay for this. One reason why you deserve another chance."

The room fell into silence as Meera realized she was out of excuses, trapped under his gaze like prey in the presence of a hunter.

Arjun's cold fury was palpable as he advanced toward Meera, his gaze hard and unrelenting. He towered over her, every step calculated, trapping her against the wall with nowhere to escape. His voice dropped, a menacing growl echoing in the room, "How dare you. Do you have any idea what you've done? There's a mark on her forehead now—a reminder of your idiocy , you know very well I don't like marks on my toys .. and she ? She is the precious one! Woman! "

Meera shuddered, her breath quickening, feeling the weight of his anger like a physical force.

"I’ve warned you before, haven’t I?” he sneered, his face inches from hers. “I despise it when anyone tries to mess with what belongs to me. My patience has limits, Meera.” He reached out, gripping her chin firmly but not enough to hurt, as if daring her to defy him.

She felt herself shrink under his touch, her voice barely a whisper, "Arjun, I—"

But he cut her off, stepping back just enough to give her the slightest hope of escape before growling, "Enough. You're coming with me. Now."

The maid stood silently in the background, bowing her head as Arjun pushed Meera forward, leading her out of the room without a second glance back.

Arjun strode down the grand hallway with a dangerous calmness, his footsteps echoing ominously, while Meera and the maid followed silently, dread pooling in Meera’s chest. She noticed the subtle gleam in his eye—a warning, a threat, a promise.

He stopped at the top of the staircase, glancing back toward the maid. The maid gave a slight nod, understanding her cue immediately, and poured oil onto the steps without hesitation. Meera's eyes widened in horror, realizing the punishment Arjun had orchestrated.

“No... no, Arjun!” she stammered, stumbling forward as he turned to face her with a raised eyebrow, amused by her sudden desperation. “Please! I’m sorry! I was just... just jealous! You know how I feel, please—don’t do this!” She clutched at his arm, but he shook her off coldly, his expression hardening.

“Jealous?” He smirked, raising his hand to his lips in mock contemplation. "And you think that justifies hurting my wife? A mark on her forehead because of your pathetic jealousy?”

“Arjun, please!” Her voice shook, pleading. “You can't do this to your... to your maa!” she added in desperation, hoping the word would give her some leverage.

Arjun let out a harsh scoff, his gaze slicing into her as he grabbed her wrist and yanked her closer, his voice low and menacing. “Maa? Or... maasi?” His mocking tone made her go still, her charade collapsing under his merciless stare.

“Tell me, Meera," he continued, his words sharp and biting, “what gave you the audacity to think you could play with what's mine?” He leaned closer, his tone dropping into a dangerous whisper. “You wanted to see someone fall, didn't you? Let’s make that wish come true.”

Meera's body stiffened in fear, and she shot a desperate glance toward the staircase. Her voice cracked, the regret and terror unmistakable, “No, Arjun... I swear, I didn’t mean—”

Arjun silenced her with a cold, humorless smile, releasing her wrist with an air of finality. “Get used to the taste of regret, Meera. Because this is just the beginning.”

.⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺