Forbidden Mania | 18+

20.

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𝒜𝓇𝓈𝒽'𝓈 𝒫𝑜𝓋~

The roar of my engine echoed through the empty streets as I sped back to the mansion, my knuckles white from the force with which I gripped the steering wheel.

Mishka's broken face haunted me, her tear-filled eyes and trembling lips replaying in my mind like a cruel loop. My heart thundered, the image of her pain igniting an uncontrollable fire in me. How could she? How could my mother stoop so low?

By the time I reached the gates of the Malhotra mansion, my fury had reached its peak. The guards barely opened the gate before I stormed through, slamming the door of my car shut with enough force to shake the air around me.

I shoved the heavy double doors open, their loud bang startling the staff inside. My chest heaved as I stood in the grand hallway, the opulence of the chandeliers and pristine decor mocking me. My mother stood in the center of the hall, as poised as ever, her cold eyes meeting mine without an ounce of regret. My father, dressed for work, stood at the edge of the room, his brows knitted in confusion at the tension in the air.

"Arsh." My father began, taking a step forward, but I cut him off with a growl.

"Not now, Dad." My voice was a low snarl, barely controlled. I turned my burning gaze to my mother. "How dare you?"

"How dare I what, Arsh? Tell the truth?" She raised an eyebrow, her calm demeanor fueling the inferno inside me.

"The truth?" I bellowed, my voice reverberating off the marble walls. I picked up the nearest vase, a delicate piece from Italy and hurled it against the wall. The shattering glass mirrored the state of my soul. "You call insulting Mishka and dragging her dead mother into this mess the truth?"

"She is not suitable for this family." My mother shot back, her tone icy. "A girl like her, cursed and motherless, will never be the Malhotra daughter-in-law!"

"Don't." I growled, stepping closer, my fists clenched so tightly my nails bit into my palms. "Don't you dare call her that again."

"She ate her mother, Arsh." My mother spat, her voice sharp and venomous. "How do you expect me to accept someone like her into this family?"

The words were a dagger to my heart, and something inside me snapped. I roared, my voice a guttural scream as I swept an entire table of antiques to the floor. The crash was deafening, but not enough to drown out the anguish ripping through me.

"Enough, Arsh!" My father's voice boomed, but I ignored him, tears of rage and despair blurring my vision.

"It took me two years!" I shouted, slamming my fist against the wall, ignoring the searing pain that followed.

"Two years to help her forget the absence of her mother. To convince her that she isn't cursed, that she's not the reason her mother isn't here!" Blood trickled from my knuckles, but I didn't care. The physical pain was nothing compared to the torment of knowing how my mother's words had undone everything.

"Do you have any idea what you've done?!" I roared, turning back to her. "You've destroyed her, Mom. You've taken the one thing I promised her. Peace."

My mother's face remained stoic, but my father stepped forward, his expression torn between shock and anger.

"Is this true, Suman?" He asked her, his voice tight. "Did you say those things to Mishka?"