Forbidden Mania | 18+

32.

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𝒜𝓇𝓈𝒽'𝓈 𝒫𝑜𝓋~

I slammed the door behind me, the echo of it vibrating through the empty house like a gunshot.

My fists clenched at my sides.
Someone saw her.

Someone saw my Mishka.
In her room.

In that moment.

When she was mine.

When she moaned my name like it was a prayer.

My jaw ticked, the veins in my neck tightening with every breath I took. I could still hear her voice. Her soft cries. Her surrender. That delicate, broken sound that made me lose every shred of control.

And someone heard it.

Someone saw her.

How dare they?

My blood burned under my skin. I could feel it surging, roaring, begging for release. My eyes scanned the empty walls of the drawing room, but all I could see was her—arched under me, her eyes half-lidded, lips parted. That intoxicating vulnerability. That rare glimpse of heaven I had taken, claimed, owned.

But now… now that image wasn’t just mine anymore.

Someone else witnessed it.

I kicked the coffee table with all my strength, sending it flying across the room. The crash didn’t soothe the rage—it fueled it. I didn’t care about the mess. I cared about her.

My Mishka.

No one gets to see her like that. No one gets to hear her like that.

That moment was ours.

Mine.

I dragged a hand through my hair, pacing like a man possessed.

Who the fuck was it?

Who had the audacity to spy on her? What if it's not someone from Kolkata? Was it the neighbor? That fucking driver? Someone from the other block?

I should’ve locked the windows.

I should’ve taken her somewhere no one could touch her with their filthy eyes. She’s too soft to even realize what it means. Too naïve to know the danger that lurks in every corner.

But I know.

And I’ll burn the world before I let it stain her.

I pulled my phone out, ready to trace every possible camera angle from that damned building.

They think they saw something?

No.

They’re not going to live long enough to talk about it.

I scrolled through the surveillance footage, my jaw clenched so tight it ached.

Nothing.

Not a single fucking face near her building. No shadow, no silhouette, no one loitering.

Impossible.

I rewound again. Eyes darting between frames.

Still nothing.

The camera at her balcony? Clean.

The one facing the entrance? Quiet.

Even the alley behind the block? Empty.
How the fuck…?

My hand curled around the edge of the desk, knuckles whitening. I had planned this. Secured it. Protected her.

The cameras had been placed by Raghav—on my demand. A week ago. No one knew about them except us.