Her Only Saviour

76. Revenge

𝖔𝖉𝖍 𝖐𝖊 𝖉𝖍𝖆𝖆𝖓𝖎
𝖗𝖊𝖊𝖙 𝖐𝖎 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖆𝖉𝖆𝖗

𝖆𝖆𝖞𝖆 𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖘𝖍𝖊𝖍𝖆𝖗 𝖒𝖊𝖎𝖓
𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖏𝖍𝖆 𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖆

𝖉𝖚𝖓𝖎𝖞𝖆 𝖟𝖆𝖒𝖆𝖆𝖓𝖆
𝖏𝖍𝖔𝖔𝖙𝖆 𝖋𝖆𝖘𝖆𝖆𝖓𝖆

𝖏𝖊𝖊𝖓𝖊 𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖊 𝖐𝖆 𝖜𝖆𝖆𝖉𝖆
𝖘𝖆𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖍𝖆 𝖒𝖊𝖗𝖆

~~~~~~~

Nandini’s hands trembled, not from fear, but from rage. Her instincts screamed this wasn’t just a kidnapping.
This was personal.

The car finally slowed.

Then stopped.

Before a wide, rusting metal gate.
Beyond it stood what looked like a long-forgotten structure—half-buried in overgrown weeds, stone walls chipped with age, moss crawling over the cracks like secrets long buried.

A dungeon.

Her heartbeat thumped in warning.

The gate creaked open.

The cab door flew open too.

Two men stood outside—faces covered in cloth masks, one tall and stocky, the other lean with a visible scar running down the side of his neck.

The lean one stepped forward.

Before Nandini could say anything, he lunged.

She screamed, punched, kicked—but he caught her arm in a steel grip and yanked her out.

“LET GO OF ME!” she roared, twisting violently, her strength wild and unpredictable.

But the other man joined in.

And though she fought like a woman possessed—pregnant, furious, unforgiving—they dragged her toward the building with brutal force.

Her shoulder slammed against the dungeon wall as they forced her down a long, damp corridor. The air reeked of mold and blood-soaked memories.

“You have no idea what you’re doing,” she spat, trying to bite at the man’s gloved hand.

They didn’t reply.

They just shoved her into a dimly lit room, cold and echoing with silence. An iron chair stood bolted to the floor.

She was thrown into it.

A rope was yanked around her wrists, tied tight enough to burn her skin.

They didn’t tie her ankles.

They didn’t think she could run.

Cowards.

Fools.

One of the men laughed darkly, tapping her cheek. “Not so fierce now, are you, baby mama?”

She turned her face slowly toward him, her eyes lifting with a stillness that was far more dangerous than screaming.

“You really think you’ve won something here?” she said softly.

That voice—low, controlled, venomous—made the taller man flinch slightly.

“I’ve heard about you,” the scarred one sneered. “The fiery Oberoi daughter who walked like a queen and talked like a gun. But look at you now. Tied up. Helpless.”

Nandini smirked.

Slowly.

Deadly.

“Helpless? You have no idea what helpless looks like,” she said coldly. “But you’re about to.”