"For the girls who dared to believe in love, only to have their hearts shattered. She craved a love without conditions. He built walls to keep love at bay. Will he surrender to his heart's desire, or will he leave her with nothing but broken dreams?"
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The first rays of dawn spilled through the curtains, casting a golden hue over the tangled sheets. The world outside was waking up, but inside Agastya’s penthouse, time seemed to have paused. Kiara stirred, warmth cocooning her, a steady heartbeat beneath her ear. Agastya's arm was wrapped protectively around her waist, holding her close as if she was something precious, something he was afraid to lose.
For a brief moment, reality blurred. She allowed herself to believe in this—this stolen moment of tenderness, of warmth she had long forgotten. But illusions had a way of shattering at the worst possible time.
A sharp buzz cut through the silence.
Agastya’s phone, resting on the bedside table, lit up with a notification. He groaned, shifting slightly, careful not to wake Kiara as he reached for it. The moment he unlocked the screen, his blood ran cold.
An unknown number. A single message.
"Look at what your little whore has been up to."
Attached was a photo.
Agastya’s fingers clenched the phone as he tapped on it, his breath hitching.
Kiara. In a bed that wasn’t his. Malhotra’s son lying beside her, half-covered by the sheets. The intimate setting, the soft morning light—it was unmistakable what the image was meant to imply.
His stomach twisted, something dark and ugly crawling up his throat. His grip tightened until his knuckles turned white.
It felt like a gunshot to his chest.
Every moment from the previous night replayed in his mind—her broken state, the vulnerability in her eyes, the way she had melted into him. Had it all been a lie? Had she played him?
His entire body tensed as a chilling realization settled over him.
She used him.
The warmth from the night before dissipated in an instant, replaced by a suffocating rage.
Kiara shifted, still half-asleep, her fingers brushing against his chest as she let out a soft hum. “Morning…” her voice was groggy, unaware of the storm brewing beside her.
Agastya’s entire body went rigid. He jerked away from her touch like it burned.
“Get out.”
Kiara blinked, her sleep-fogged brain struggling to process his sudden shift. “What?”
He threw the phone onto the bed, his eyes burning with something venomous. “I said. Get. Out.”
Confused, Kiara sat up, gripping the sheets. “Agastya, what—”
“Shut up!” His voice cracked like a whip, sharp and cutting. He ran a hand through his hair, his breathing ragged. “Tell me, Kiara… how much did he pay you?”
She froze, her blood turning ice-cold. “What?”
He let out a hollow, humorless laugh, his eyes glinting with something cruel. “How much, Kiara? How much did Malhotra’s son pay you to crawl into his bed?” He leaned in, his face inches from hers, voice dripping with venom. “Or did you do it for free because he was just that good in bed?”
A gasp tore from her lips, horror slamming into her like a wave. “You don’t mean that.”
“Oh, but I do,” Agastya sneered. “Tell me, Kiara, was selling yourself part of your grand plan? Is that why you leaked the information? Was he rewarding you for a job well done?”
Tears burned in her eyes, her throat tightening painfully. “I didn’t leak anything!”
“Don’t lie to me!” His voice thundered through the room, sending her heart hammering against her ribs. “I saw the proof! Do you think I’m a fool? Do you think I’d let you play me again?”
Her lips trembled as she looked at him—the man who had once held her like she was the most fragile thing in the world was now looking at her like she was filth.
Something inside her cracked.
She had endured enough.
She clenched the sheets, her breath shuddering. “You hate me so much that you’d rather believe a fucking photo than the person in front of you?” Her voice shook, but there was steel beneath it. “You think so low of me?”
Agastya scoffed, his lips curling. “I don’t think, Kiara. I know what kind of woman you are.”
Her heart shattered, but she forced herself to hold his gaze. She swallowed back the sob threatening to escape. “You’re wrong,” she whispered. “And one day, you’ll regret every single word you just said.”
He laughed bitterly. “Doubt it.”
Something inside her died at that moment. The last piece of her that had still held onto hope—that had thought maybe, just maybe, Agastya would believe in her—was crushed beyond air.
She threw back the covers, pushing past him as she scrambled out of bed. Her hands shook as she grabbed her clothes, barely able to see through her tears.
Agastya stood still, watching her with those cold, unforgiving eyes.
She turned to him one last time, her voice barely above a whisper. “I will find out who did this to me, Agastya. And when I do… I never want to see your face again.”
And with that, she walked out.
For the first time, Agastya didn’t stop her.
The door slammed shut behind her, leaving behind only silence.
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To be continued......
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