" 𝐼𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑑."
───※ ·❆· ※───
Aisha , her name alone melts the coldest hearts, and her bright smile brightens their days. The cheery, bright, and sometimes...
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Kartik leaned back in his chair, staring at his father with a mixture of disbelief and frustration. The whiskey in his glass swirled as he took another sip, trying to steady his racing thoughts.
"Dad, will you tell me what the heck was that?" Kartik's voice broke through the silence, his words sharp with curiosity. "Buying her? And how the hell did you know about the dead child of the Oberois?"
His father, unfazed, took another leisurely sip of his whiskey, his gaze fixed on the rim of his glass.
"You don't understand, son," he said, his voice smooth as silk. "That girl—she's a rare gem. The kind that only comes around once in a lifetime. Once you're married, I'll explain everything. Believe me, she will bring success to us."
"And as for the Oberois," he continued, a dark glint in his eyes, "everything is connected. Everything. Your marriage will bring their downfall, mark my words."
Kartik exhaled sharply, his frustration mounting as his father refused to reveal more. Marriage. That's all he kept talking about. It was like a broken record, looping over and over again.
Kartik couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this than just a simple union, but his father was playing his cards close to his chest.
He stood up abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor, and took his glass of whiskey with him as he walked toward the window.
He needed a loophole, something that would give him control of the situation.
His father joined him at the window, placing a hand over Kartik's shoulder in a rare show of affection.
"Don't worry," he said, his voice low and reassuring. "I'll make the arrangements for your marriage. As soon as possible. Then, you'll have her, your desire finally."
Kartik nodded, a smirk creeping onto his face. He couldn't deny the allure of having Aisha all to himself. The thought of claiming her, making her his, stirred something dark within him.
He had adored her from afar, watching her with a mixture of fascination and fear. Fear, because she was unlike anyone he had ever encountered—strong, fiery, unpredictable. But that was precisely what made her so irresistible.
Every moment spent watching her only deepened his obsession. There was a raw power in her, an energy that both terrified and exhilarated him.
✨
The man lounged on a vintage chair, the leather creaking under his weight as he exhaled a thick cloud of cigar smoke.
His eyes burned like embers, locked onto the trembling figure of Mr. Joshi standing before him. The room was dimly lit, the shadows stretching long and ominous, mirroring the suffocating tension that filled the air.
"You had one fucking job," the man said, his voice a venomous growl that dripped with barely contained rage. "Keep a leash on that girl. But your incompetence—no, your pathetic excuses—let her vanish. Five years, Joshi. Five years she was off our radar, and now that she's back, she's untouchable. You know why?"
