UNWILLINGLY HIS

Checkmate

The air was thick with chaos. Aarav, bleeding and disoriented, staggered back from Advait's shot. His men, frantic with rage, were already drawing their weapons, ready to launch an attack. But Advait's guards, fewer in number but far more deadly, were ready for this. They moved with precision, taking down Aarav's men with lethal efficiency. The sound of gunfire echoed through the warehouse, the tension rising with every passing second.

In the middle of it all, Samaira stood frozen, her heart pounding in her chest, as her mind struggled to process the chaos unfolding before her eyes. Everything seemed like a nightmare she couldn't wake from.

Advait's presence loomed over her like a dark cloud, his cold eyes never leaving her. He was the predator, and she was the prey-no matter how hard she fought, she couldn't escape him.

With deliberate slowness, Advait walked over to Aarav, who was crumpled on the ground, clutching his wounded arm. He towered over him, his voice venomous as he spoke. "Is this drama enough, or would you like to see more?" His lips curled into a devilish smile, the satisfaction in his voice clear.

Samaira's breath caught in her throat. The sound of Advait's voice, laced with malice, seemed to pierce through the cacophony of gunfire. But then, without thinking, she reacted. Her eyes darted around, searching for something-anything-that could help her take control of the situation.

Aarav's gun had fallen to the ground, still within reach. In one swift motion, Samaira grabbed it, her fingers trembling around the cold metal. She pointed it at Advait, the barrel aimed straight at his heart.

Advait didn't flinch. He stood there, his expression unreadable. "So, you want to shoot me?" he asked, his voice calm, almost too calm. "Go ahead."

Her hands shook violently as she held the gun, the weight of it unbearable. She could feel her pulse racing in her ears, the deafening thud of her heartbeat drowning out the chaos around her. Her mind screamed at her to pull the trigger, to take control of her fate. But her body betrayed her.

Instead, she lowered the gun, her resolve cracking like fragile glass. With a shaky breath, she pressed the cold barrel to her own temple, her finger still hovering on the trigger.

Advait's eyes widened, a flicker of something-fear, perhaps-crossing his face. His heart skipped a beat as he moved forward with lightning speed, his hand shooting out to gently remove the gun from her grasp. "No one can take you from me," he said softly, his voice dark and possessive. "Not even death. Not unless I allow it."

Samaira's hands dropped limply to her sides as Advait held the gun away from her. She felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness wash over her. She was trapped. There was no escape.

But before either of them could say another word, the sound of sirens echoed in the distance. The sound grew louder, and within moments, the warehouse doors slammed open, and a team of police officers flooded into the room. Samaira's heart leapt in her chest. Maybe this was it. Maybe they were finally going to get her out of here.

She rushed forward, her voice frantic as she turned to the officers. "You don't understand," she cried out. "Aarav Malhotra-he's trying to kill me! He-he-"

But before she could explain, one of the officers cut her off. "Mrs. Shekhawat," he said, his voice almost too calm, too rehearsed. "We've already been informed by your husband. He said you were upset, and that's why you left the house. He risked his life to come find you."

Samaira froze. The words hit her like a slap across the face. Mrs. Shekhawat?

The officers continued, speaking in a tone that made it clear they had already been briefed. "Advait Shikhawat contacted us earlier. He told us you left because you were angry, and that you had been kidnapped by Aarav Malhotra."

Her world tilted. It was as though the ground beneath her feet had suddenly vanished. She looked at Advait, her eyes wide with disbelief. He had planned this all along. Even the police were in on it.

Advait stepped forward, his posture relaxed, as if everything was perfectly in control. "Thank you, officers," he said smoothly, his voice laced with honeyed charm. "I appreciate your help." He turned to Samaira, his gaze icy but filled with something darker. "I know you're furious, but let's settle this at home, alright? You've already had enough for today."

Samaira's mouth went dry as she tried to process his words. Her mind screamed at her to run, to escape-but there was nowhere left to run. The officers, far from questioning the validity of Advait's story, simply nodded in agreement. They didn't even glance in Samaira's direction as they began to escort her toward the door.

As they walked past, Advait leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear. "Now," he whispered, "it's checkmate."

The words sent a shiver down her spine. She had no way out now. No one was going to help her. She was trapped in a nightmare that she couldn't escape from, a puppet with no strings left to cut.

Her chest tightened, and for the first time since this madness began, Samaira truly understood the full extent of her helplessness. Advait had planned everything-every move, every reaction, every piece of this twisted game. He had anticipated her every action, and now, he had won.

She was his. Forever.

And as the police officers led her out of the warehouse, Samaira felt like a prisoner in her own life, her heart heavy with defeat. The game was over, and Advait had checked her into a corner from which there was no escape.

Not now. Not ever.