shadow's Embrace ~ A Dark , Forbidden Love

Chapter 1: Into the Shadows

The dungeon smelled of rust, sweat, and the metallic tang of blood. Trish Sinha stood in the center of the room, her breathing heavy but controlled. The dim overhead light flickered, casting jagged shadows across the bodies of the underworld goons she'd just taken down. Each movement she'd made was precise, ruthless—a calculated fury that left her enemies broken and sprawled across the cold, damp floor.

This wasn’t her first fight, and it wouldn’t be her last.

Blood trickled from a gash above her brow, the sting sharp and hot, but Trish didn’t flinch. She couldn’t afford to. The pain in her fractured ankle screamed with every step, but it was a dull roar compared to the fire of vengeance burning in her chest. She had come here for answers, and while the mastermind behind her family's tragedy remained elusive, she had sent a message loud and clear.

"Let your boss know," she hissed at the last conscious goon, her voice a low snarl. "I’m coming for him. And when I do, there won’t be a shadow dark enough for him to hide in."

The man didn’t respond, groaning in agony as he writhed on the floor. Trish didn’t spare him another glance. Her body protested with every movement as she limped out of the dungeon, her vision blurring slightly.

Outside, the cool night air hit her like a slap, mingling with the taste of copper in her mouth. Her car was parked just a few feet away, and she staggered toward it, her hands trembling as she reached for the door.

Her fingers fumbled with the keys, her vision tunneling. She managed to slide into the driver’s seat, her head leaning back against the rest for a brief moment.

"Focus," she muttered to herself, clutching the steering wheel. But her body had other plans. The blood loss, the pain—it all caught up to her at once.

Darkness closed in as she slumped forward, unconscious, her hand slipping from the ignition.

---

The sound of heavy boots crunching against gravel broke the silence. Veer Oberoi approached the car, his sharp gaze immediately assessing the scene. He’d been trailing her for days, keeping just out of sight, waiting for the moment she’d finally stumble. And here she was—battered but victorious, proving yet again that she was every bit as fierce as he knew she would be.

But seeing her like this—her head resting limply against the steering wheel, her body too still—did something to him he hadn’t expected.

“Damn it, Trishi,” he muttered under his breath, yanking the door open with one swift motion.

Her face was pale, her breaths shallow but steady. The gash on her forehead had streaked blood down the side of her face, and her leg looked twisted at an unnatural angle. Yet, even now, unconscious and injured, she carried an aura of defiance.

Veer sighed, running a hand through his hair. He’d known her brother well enough to understand that stubbornness ran in the family, but this was a recklessness that bordered on self-destruction. And it wasn’t something he could let slide.

Carefully, he slid an arm beneath her shoulders and another under her legs, lifting her as gently as possible. She stirred faintly, a soft groan escaping her lips, but she didn’t wake.

“Rest for now,” Veer murmured, his voice low and steady. “You’ll have plenty of fight left in you tomorrow.”

As he carried her to his car, he couldn’t help but glance back at her beaten-down vehicle. She’d come here alone, knowing the risks, ready to face death without a second thought. It was both infuriating and intoxicating.

Sliding her into the passenger seat of his own car, Veer fastened the seatbelt and took one last look at her face. Even now, he could see the fire beneath the exhaustion, the resolve that had refused to dim.

He started the engine, his jaw tightening.

She didn’t know who he was—didn’t know he’d been a shadow in her life long before this moment. And for now, he intended to keep it that way.