Ishq hua (Duet 1)

Chapter 18: Destruction

Arsh:

The door clicked shut behind me, the cold, unyielding echo reverberating through the quiet hallway. My body was still taut with frustration, every nerve alight with the kind of tension that only she could create.

The audacity.

She had the nerve to push me away, after everything? After I had saved her life again - and let her unravel in my arms like she was mine. Like she wanted to be mine.

I clenched my fists, my jaw tight as I stalked down the hallway toward another room. Each step echoed with the weight of my anger, a futile attempt to shake off the way her body had felt against mine, the sound of her voice breaking as she had fallen apart on my fingers.

This was a game to her. A test. And damn it, she had won.

I slammed my door shut behind me, leaning back against the solid wood as I dragged a hand through my hair. Her scent lingered on my skin, a haunting reminder of what she had taken without giving anything back. I needed to hate her for it.

For stripping me out of my control even through I was fully dressed and she was the one without any clothes on.

Instead, I replayed her word in my mind, again and again.

A single word and she had won the game I didn't realise we were playing.

"Leave."

My lip curled at the memory. She didn't realize was that I had already let her in too deep.

I pushed off the door, pacing the room as I tried to rid myself of the lingering ache. My hands itched to grab something, break it, let the chaos inside me out. But nothing would fix this. Nothing would dull the edge of her absence.

Because despite everything - despite the hatred I clung to, the reasons I reminded myself of every day - I wanted her out of my system and I needed to fuck that denial out of her.

And she fucking knew it.

I stared at the reflection in the mirror, my eyes dark and stormy. This wasn't who I was supposed to be. Desperate.

The mirror reflected a man on the brink - wild eyes, clenched jaw, and a storm brewing beneath the surface. My fingers gripped at the palms, knuckles white, as I fought for control.

She had managed to tear down my walls, leaving me raw and exposed.

I shouldn't have let her come. Had I known she had the control deep inside her to resist me, I wouldn't have let her that orgasm but I fucking missed.

And that sweet little siren fucking tricked me.

A sharp knock on the door broke through the haze. I straightened and stepped away from the mirror as Vyom's voice filtered through the wood.

"Arsh, we have got the assassin in the interrogation room," he said, his tone clipped, all business.

I exhaled sharply, running a hand through my hair before replying, "I will be there in half an hour."

A pause, then the faint sound of retreating footsteps. Good. I needed time.

Turning toward the bathroom, I shed my shirt and let it fall to the floor before stepping into the shower. The cold water hit me like a slap, shocking my system, dragging me back to reality.

She had left me on edge, every nerve screaming for release. My hands braced against the tiled wall, head bowed under the icy stream as I fought against the hold she had on me.

This wasn't about need. It was about control - control I had handed to her on a silver platter. And she had wielded it with devastating precision.

I gritted my teeth, my body tense as the water slided over me, washing away the heat and the ache she had left behind. But it couldn't wash away the memory of her - her breathy moans, the way she had melted in my arms, only to shove me away like it meant nothing.