FORCED MARRIAGE WITH BROTHER IN LAW

chapter 40

The basement was quiet, the air thick with the scent of damp walls and dust. Kittu had left moments ago, her sobs still echoing in Y/N’s ears.

But Y/N wasn’t alone.

A presence lingered in the dim light, one she hadn’t felt in so long that it sent a chill down her spine.

Paras.

She didn’t have to turn around to know it was him.

She felt him. The way she always had.

"Y/N…" His voice was hesitant, careful—like he was walking on broken glass.

She swallowed, forcing her body to stay still, to remain indifferent. "Why are you here?"

He stepped closer, but she didn’t look at him.

"I heard," he admitted, his voice laced with something she didn’t want to name—guilt, regret… longing.

Y/N let out a humorless chuckle. "And what exactly did you hear, Paras?"

"That you’re suffering." His words were almost a whisper. "That you—" He stopped himself, as if saying it out loud would hurt him more than it already did.

She clenched her fists. He had no right.

She turned to face him, her fever-bright eyes locking onto his. "And now you care?"

Paras flinched. "Y/N—"

"Where was this concern when I needed you?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, but the weight of her pain crushed the space between them. "Where was this when you—"

She stopped.

She didn’t want to say it.

Didn’t want to admit that even now, even after everything, she still felt something.

Because deep down, she still loved him.

And he knew it.

He took another step forward, his gaze searching hers. "I never stopped—"

"Don’t," she cut him off, her throat tightening. "I’m married now."

The words tasted bitter.

Not because they weren’t true.

But because they weren’t enough to erase what still existed between them.

Paras exhaled sharply, his hands clenching into fists. "And does he love you?" His voice was sharp, demanding.

Y/N blinked.

For a second, she almost laughed.

"Love?" she echoed, shaking her head. "You don’t get to ask me that."

The air between them crackled with something old, something broken.

But neither of them noticed the shadow at the door.

Listening.

Watching.

Taehyung.

His hand rested on the doorframe, his jaw clenched so tightly that it ached.

He had heard everything.