After Advait left Samaira heartbroken on the day that was supposed to be the happiest of her life-their wedding day-her world shatters. Picking up the pieces, she barely manages to rebuild herself when her family insists she marry Aarav, a successfu...
The ride back to the mansion was agonizingly quiet, save for the hum of the car engine. Advait sat beside me, his demeanor unreadable as always. His silence was suffocating, but my thoughts were louder than ever. What he did today didn't make sense to me. “Why did you save me?” I asked finally, my voice cutting through the oppressive silence.
He didn’t look at me immediately. Instead, he kept his eyes on the road, his grip on the steering wheel tightening slightly. “Why did you save me that day?” he countered after a pause.
His deflection irritated me, but I answered anyway. “I am a doctor. It was my duty.”
He let out a faint, almost mocking chuckle. “And I know how to protect what’s mine.”
Those words lingered in the air, heavy with meaning. Protect what’s his? What was I to him—a possession? Or something more sinister?
The rest of the drive passed in silence, but his words refused to leave me. They echoed in my mind, twisting and turning into shapes I couldn’t decipher.
When we arrived at his mansion, I was momentarily struck by its sheer grandeur. I had seen wealth before, but this was overwhelming. Each corner, every detail, screamed dominance and power, much like the man who owned it.
As I stepped out of the car, my legs faltered. My body was still too weak, but before I could stumble, Advait was there, lifting me into his arms effortlessly.
“You’re not strong enough to walk,” he murmured, his tone neutral, as if carrying me was a matter of course.
I wanted to protest, to tell him I didn’t need his help, but I couldn’t. The fight in me was too worn out, my body betraying my resolve.
He carried me to a lavish guest room, placing me gently on the bed. “I’ll send someone with food,” he said before walking toward the door.
But then he paused. Turning back, his dark eyes locked with mine. “Rest,” he said, his voice softer, almost... caring. “I don’t want my prey to think I’ve won because she’s weak. I want you at your best.”
And then he left, leaving me alone to grapple with the chaos in my mind.
My prey. The words echoed in my head, chilling and confusing all at once. Was he threatening me? Reminding me of my helplessness? Or was this his twisted way of expressing concern?
I hated him for what he’d done to me. For humiliating me. For ruining my life. Yet, as I lay there staring at the ornate ceiling, I couldn’t shake the strange calmness I felt in his presence. It was infuriating.
He had said I was his prey. A predator plays with its prey, savoring the torment before delivering the final blow. That’s what he was doing, wasn’t he? Toying with me, waiting for the perfect moment to crush me completely.
But not now. Not yet.
He wanted me to recover. And I would. But not for him. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of thinking he’d broken me.
For now, I would rest. I would wait. And when the time came, I would find a way to escape his grasp. Because no matter what he said, I refused to be anyone’s prey.
Advait's POV:
I watched her out of the corner of my eye as we drove back to the mansion. She looked out the window, her face pale, her body visibly exhausted. But her eyes... those eyes still held fire, even in her weakened state.
“Why did you save me?” she asked, her voice quiet but firm.
I expected the question. I knew it would come eventually. Instead of answering, I deflected. “Why did you save me that day?” I asked, knowing full well how much she valued her principles.
Her answer came without hesitation. “I was a doctor. It was my duty.”
Of course. Always the righteous one. Always the one bound by duty and morals.
I smirked faintly and gave her the answer she wouldn’t understand. “And I know how to protect what’s mine.”
The words were deliberate. I wanted to see her reaction, to watch her wrestle with their meaning. But she didn’t reply, only stared out the window, lost in thought.
When we reached the mansion, I noticed how her eyes widened slightly, taking in the grandeur of the place. She tried to walk, but her legs gave way.
For a moment, I hesitated. Was she trying to manipulate me? Another act to gain sympathy?
But when her body sagged, I acted on instinct, scooping her into my arms. She didn’t protest, and I felt a strange satisfaction in her silence.
“You’re not strong enough to walk,” I said, my tone neutral.
Carrying her into the mansion, I took her to the guest room and laid her on the bed. As I turned to leave, I stopped, glancing back at her. She looked so fragile, so unlike the fierce woman I had come to know.
“Rest,” I said, my voice softening against my will. “I don’t want my prey to think I’ve won because she’s weak. I want you at your best.”
It was true. I didn’t want her defeated like this, not when she wasn’t strong enough to fight back. That wouldn’t be a victory—it would be hollow, meaningless.
As I walked out of the room, I couldn’t shake the unease in my chest. Why did I care? She was mine—that much was clear. But was that why I wanted her well? Or was there something else I wasn’t ready to confront?
I didn’t have answers. Not yet. But one thing was certain: Samaira was mine. And no matter what, I would protect her. Even if it meant protecting her from herself.
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