UNWILLINGLY HIS

The game has just begun

The tension in the air was suffocating. Samaira stood in the middle of the room, her pulse racing as Aarav’s guards closed in around them, the sound of boots on the hard floors echoing in the space. Advait’s men were fewer in number, but the way they stood—silent, calculating—told her that they were no less dangerous.

Aarav, his face hard with determination, paced slowly, his eyes never leaving Samaira as he spoke. "This man," he said, his voice cold and measured, "has always been in my way. Always tarnished my reputation, ruined everything I built. But now, it's time to make him pay."

Samaira felt a chill grip her chest. She had seen power struggles before, but never like this. It was clear that this was personal. Aarav’s thirst for vengeance wasn’t just about business; it was a deep-seated grudge that had been festering for years.

Still, Samaira stood frozen, her thoughts racing. How had she gotten caught in the middle of this madness? How could the man she had trusted turn out to be just another player in Advait's twisted game? But now, she couldn’t let herself show weakness, not even to herself. She straightened, summoning the courage to speak.

"If your enemy is Advait," she said, her voice steady but filled with confusion, "why have you taken me as a hostage?"

Aarav’s cold gaze locked onto hers, and for a moment, the mask of calm he had worn faltered. He didn’t speak immediately, but when he did, his voice was soft, laced with something darker. “Because he loves you,” he said. "And you, Samaira, are his weakness. That’s why I will use you to get my revenge. He won't stop until he gets what he wants, and he will burn everything in his path to get you back. But I will break him."

Samaira laughed, a bitter, cold sound that echoed in the room. “How can I be his weakness?” she spat. “He faked his love, left me humiliated at the altar, and now he wants to make me his obsession. He never cared about me—he just wants to satisfy his fragile ego by holding me captive. And you, Aarav, are just another pawn in his game.”

Aarav’s jaw tightened, his eyes flashing with something close to rage, but he didn't respond immediately. Instead, he stepped closer, his voice dropping low but intense. "If he didn’t love you, Samaira, why would he have followed you for so long? Why would he have tried every possible way to track you down, to find you?"

Samaira felt a cold wave of realization wash over her. Aarav’s words rang in her ears, and for a moment, she wondered if maybe, just maybe, there had been a time when Advait did love her—before everything had shattered. But as quickly as the thought came, she pushed it away. She had no time for self-pity now.

Before she could respond, a low, familiar voice cut through the tension, chilling her to the bone.

"Because I am a predator," Advait said, stepping into the room with the same cold, calculating expression that had haunted her dreams. "And I never let my prey escape."

Samaira’s breath caught in her throat as Advait’s piercing gaze locked with hers. For a moment, she felt as though time had stopped. Every muscle in her body screamed to run, but she knew there was nowhere to go. His men, his power, surrounded her. He had been playing this game for far too long, and she had been a piece in his puzzle from the beginning.

"I wanted to catch you, Samaira," Advait continued, his voice as cold as the gunmetal in his hand. "Not because I love you, but because I want to avenge my father. I’ll take you away from your family, your life—everything you hold dear—and that will be the ultimate revenge."

Samaira felt the ground beneath her feet begin to crumble. This was it. The reality of her situation hit her all at once. Advait’s obsession with her wasn’t love—it was vengeance, a twisted need to break her and everything she cared about. She was nothing but a tool to him, a weapon to wound her family and ruin her life.

Aarav scoffed, a dry laugh escaping his lips. “Enough of this façade, Advait. If you really don’t love her, then let me finish her. I’ll take care of this once and for all."

Samaira’s chest tightened as she processed Aarav's words. She felt sick, betrayed, and yet, something inside her snapped. No more running, no more hiding. She was done being a pawn. Her eyes turned to Advait, and she spoke with all the defiance she had left.

“Advait always gets what he wants. I’m just his obsession, a trophy to satisfy his fragile ego,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "If you want to kill me, just do it. I’m tired of all this. Every time I think everything is falling into place, someone like you comes along to shatter it. First him, now you."

The words left her mouth like poison, but deep down, she felt a strange sense of relief. At least she had finally said what she felt. The weight of the lies and the pain of the past had almost crushed her, but now she was ready for whatever came next.

Advait didn’t flinch. His expression remained as cold and unmoving as ever. "If Aarav kills you," he said, his voice low and menacing, "I win either way. Aarav will go to jail for murder, and his father’s political connections won’t save him. His father will be more concerned with saving his seat than saving his son. You’ll be gone, and I’ll have my revenge without even staining my hands."

Samaira’s blood ran cold at the thought. Her mind raced as she tried to process his words. How could he say that after I saved him? But then, reality hit her like a slap. Advait was a man who would do anything to win, no matter the cost. People, lives—they were all just pieces on his chessboard. She was just another sacrifice he was willing to make to reach his ultimate goal.

As the weight of it all sank in, she noticed something in Aarav’s eyes. The firm resolve that had been there moments ago was now flickering. His hand trembled as he gripped the gun, and Samaira realized with horror that Aarav wasn’t as sure of his path as he had led her to believe.

The tremble in his hand betrayed him as he raised the gun, his finger on the trigger. "Fine," he whispered. "If I go down, I’ll take you with me."

The gunshot rang out before Samaira could even flinch.

But it wasn’t aimed at her. It wasn’t even close. The bullet hit Aarav’s arm, and he staggered back in shock, the gun slipping from his hand. Samaira felt the wind of the bullet pass by her face, but she didn’t move. She couldn’t. Not while Advait stood there, his gun still aimed, his expression unchanging.

Aarav groaned in pain, clutching his arm as he fell to his knees. “What… the hell…” he gasped, looking up at Advait, who had already holstered his weapon.

"I never said I wouldn’t get my hands dirty," Advait said, his voice cold as ice, his eyes never leaving Aarav. "But if you think you can kill Samaira and walk away from this, you're gravely mistaken."

Samaira stood in stunned silence, watching as the man who had been her greatest tormentor—a man she once thought she knew—continued to play his game. But now, the rules had changed. And she was no longer a pawn in his twisted game. She had her own moves to make.

The game had only just begun.