Hukum's Rani Sa

33. The Twist

The masked man's grip on Ishqi's hand was like a vice, his fingers digging deep into her skin as he dragged her down the stairs. Ishqi struggled with all her might, but her strength was no match for his brute force. She stumbled, her feet barely touching the ground as he pulled her along.

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, the masked man yanked open the door of a shiny black BMW, its sleek surface glinting in the sunlight. He pushed Ishqi inside, slamming the door shut behind her. The sound of the lock clicking into place was like a death knell, sealing her fate.

Ishqi pounded on the door, her fists flying as she desperately tried to escape. But it was no use; the door was solid, unyielding. The masked man stood outside, his eyes glinting with malevolence as he watched her struggle.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small remote, his thumb hovering over the red button. Ishqi's eyes widened as she realized what was happening, but it was too late. The masked man pressed the button, and a fine spray began to fill the car.

Ishqi's eyes grew heavy, her eyelids drooping as the gas took effect. She slumped forward, her head hitting the dashboard with a soft thud. The masked man's face was still hidden behind his mask, but his eyes seemed to gleam with an evil light.

He opened the door, and the gas wafted out, carrying with it the scent of danger. The masked man slid into the driver's seat, his eyes flicking up to the rearview mirror. Ishqi's limp form was reflected back at him, and he smiled, a cold, calculating smile.

The door closed with a soft click, and the car began to move, gliding smoothly away from the curb. Behind it, a convoy of 10 cars followed, their occupants silent and watchful.

As the car drove on, the scenery outside changed, the city giving way to rolling hills and manicured lawns. Finally, they came to a stop in front of a massive mansion, its walls towering above them like a monolith.

The masked man stepped out of the car, his hands slipping into his pockets as he gazed up at the mansion. His stance was relaxed, but his eyes seemed to hold a secret, a hidden purpose that only he knew.

Ishqi, still unconscious, was oblivious to the danger that lurked around her. But as the masked man's eyes seemed to bore into her very soul, it was clear that she was in grave peril, trapped in a web of deceit and evil from which she might never escape.

As the masked man carried Ishqi towards the mansion, the grandeur of the estate was palpable. The sound of the gate opening was followed by the soft crunch of gravel beneath their feet. The masked man's eyes seemed to gleam with an otherworldly intensity as he stepped into the darkness of the mansion.

Suddenly, he erupted into a fit of rage, his voice booming through the halls.

"Light kyu nahi hai yahan... Tum log ek kam dhang se nahi kar sakte kya?"

("Why are there no lights here... Can't you people do even one thing properly?")

As if in response, a spotlight flickered to life, illuminating a figure seated on a majestic chair. The chair itself was a work of art, with a lion's face intricately carved into its design, giving it a regal appearance.

The figure, Rajveer Rajawat, slowly lifted his head, his eyes narrowing as he took in the scene before him. His gaze settled on Ishqi, and for a moment, his expression softened. However, as his eyes locked onto the masked man, his face twisted into a snarl.

"Rajveer Rajawat" the masked man spat, his voice dripping with venom. He seemed taken aback by Rajveer's presence, but he quickly regained his composure, a sly smile spreading across his face.

"Accha e hua ab mei aur meri darling ki sadi ki gawah tum banna."

("Good, now you'll be the witness to my and my darling's wedding.")

Rajveer's response was immediate and fierce.

"Usko leke aisa sochna bhi tere liye bohut bura anzam hoga."

("Thinking of taking her like this will have severe consequences for you.")

The masked man sneered, his eyes glinting with malice. He lowered Ishqi to the ground, his hands reaching for her waist. But before he could grasp her, Ishqi's eyes snapped open, and she made a desperate bid for freedom.

With a swift movement, she reached behind her lehenga and produced a shard of broken glass. With a fierce cry, she struck out at the masked man, the glass slicing through his hand. The masked man's grip on her hand loosened, and Ishqi took advantage of the momentary distraction.

She twirled out of his grasp, her movements fluid and determined. Rajveer, anticipating her move, stepped forward and caught her hand, pulling her towards him. With a swift motion, he sat down on the royal chair, Ishqi settling onto his lap.

As they sat there, surrounded by their bodyguards in black uniforms, the air was thick with an aura of royalty. The masked man, still nursing his wounded hand, glared at them with impotent rage, his eyes burning with a fierce hatred.

The scene was set for a battle of wits, a clash of titans, with Ishqi caught in the middle. But for now, she was safe, nestled in Rajveer's arms, surrounded by the opulence and grandeur of the mansion.

The masked man's face contorted in rage, his eyes bulging with fury.

"AGHHHHH!" he bellowed, his voice echoing through the mansion.

He took a step forward, his hands clenched into fists.

"Ishqi... Ishqi, suno tum mere pas ajao mai tumhe bohut khus rakhunga, I promise tum ajao mere pas, please... mai tumse bohut pyar karta hu."

("Ishqi, listen, come to me, I'll keep you very happy, I promise, come to me, please... I love you very much.")

His words were laced with desperation, his tone creepy and unsettling. But Ishqi's expression remained icy, her eyes cold and unyielding. She didn't flinch, didn't react, as if the masked man's words were nothing more than a distant echo.

Rajveer's hands cradled her face, his fingers gentle as he turned her chin towards him. Their eyes met, and the air seemed to vibrate with tension. Rajveer's voice was low, husky, and commanding.

"Tum sirf meri taraf dekhogi aur kisi taraf nahi."

("You'll only look at me and no one else.")

Ishqi's response was immediate, her arms wrapping around Rajveer's neck like a vice. It was as if they were two pieces of a puzzle, fitting together seamlessly. The love between them was palpable, a living, breathing entity that seemed to pulse with its own rhythm.

The masked man watched, his eyes growing wider with rage. He seemed to be unraveling, his sanity fraying at the edges. With a sudden, jerky movement, he pulled out a gun and aimed it at Rajveer.

Time seemed to slow down, the air thickening with anticipation. Ishqi's eyes widened, her face frozen in horror. Rajveer's expression remained calm, his eyes never leaving Ishqi's face.

The masked man's finger tightened on the trigger, and a shot rang out, echoing through the mansion like a death knell.

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