" I'm sor-"
"DON'T, JUST DON'T SAY IT. YOU DO NOT EVEN DESERVE TO SAY IT AFTER WHAT YOU HAVE DONE TO ME! I BEGGED YOU, SCREAMED AND PLEAD, BUT YOU DIDN'T HEED MY WORDS. THEN WHY SHOULD I!"
I yelled with tears streaming down my face when witnessing m...
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In the dim glow of his cabin, the man stood tall, cigarette smoldering between his fingers, its ember casting a fleeting glow against his cold, unreadable features. Wisps of smoke curled upward, twisting like unseen phantoms, vanishing into the thick air. His gaze remained fixed on the storm outside, the rain hammering down in a merciless torrent, drowning the world in its chaotic embrace. Trees writhed like tortured souls, their limbs snapping with sickening cracks. Streets flooded, swallowing whatever stood in their path, erasing traces of order and calm. It was destruction in its purest form. A mirror to his own existence. A smirk played at the edge of his lips, slow, deliberate, carrying the weight of a secret only he knew.
He knew it all. Every storm he had brewed. Every life he had upended. What happened in Dubai, in Singapore, the past of those pitiful souls who now cowered in his grasp, it was all by his design. The whispers of information, the orchestrated abductions, the torment Amaira endured. Every act, every wound, every scream was a carefully plotted piece of his grand game. And why? Not for vengeance. Not for justice. Simply because he could. Because he found a twisted delight in watching those he deemed unworthy crumble beneath his control.
And now, watching Suhail scramble, clawing desperately to shield Amaira from the inevitable, only amused him further. The man's misplaced rage, his pathetic attempts to fight back, torturing assassins as if he could ever reach the true mastermind, was nothing more than a child playing pretend. He wasn't catching up. He wasn't even close. Because at the end of the day, he held the strings. He decided the rules of the game. The moment the cards would be revealed was his choice alone. The power he wielded over Suhail, the invisible noose tightening around him, brought a thrill that sent a dark pleasure coursing through his veins.
Slowly, he dragged the cigarette from his lips, exhaling a breath of smoke as his fingers tapped against the windowsill. This game, he thought, his smirk widening. None of the lives I've crushed before have ever given me this much satisfaction. Power and control have always been intoxicating, but this? This is different. Watching him suffer. Watching her break. Watching it all unfold exactly as I've planned, it's intoxicating in a way I've never felt before.
His moment of indulgence was shattered when the door to his cabin swung open. The intrusion sent a sharp wave of irritation slicing through him. His jaw clenched. His pulse darkened. He despised interruptions, especially when he was lost in thoughts of ruin. Whoever dared disrupt him now had just sealed their fate.
"Baby, I've been calling you so many times! Why don't you pick up? And your secretary wouldn't even let me in! You should fire him, he's so"
The words never finished.
In an instant, his hand was on her throat, slamming her against the wall with bone crushing force. The breath fled from her lungs in a choked gasp, her eyes widening in pure terror.
"Did I tell you to speak?" His voice was a quiet, deadly whisper, laced with the promise of pain. He tilted his head slightly, watching the panic bloom in her gaze like a thing of beauty. "Did I give you permission to enter my cabin like it was yours?"
