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I opened the massive carved door to my old room in Raj Mahal.
The same scent.
The same echo.
The same warmth.
My feet touched the marbled floor after so long… and yet, my heart didn’t feel still.
Before I could take another step inside, I felt the air shift behind me.
He was there.
Anirudh.
His presence was like a storm. Silent but overwhelming.
He followed me in.
The door shut behind us with a solid thud.
My breath caught.
I moved forward instinctively—but before I could reach the window,
his hand grabbed my arm.
Not rough.
But strong enough to make my body turn—
and crash straight into his chest.
My palms hit the wall of muscle under his shirt.
My breath caught in my throat.
“Kya bakwaas tha niche, huh?”
(What the hell was that downstairs, huh?)
He growled, voice low and sharp.
“Kya zarurat thi aapko yeh vrat ke liye haan karni ki?”
(What was the need for you to say yes to the fast?)
His eyes burned into mine.
Like I’d stabbed him. Like I’d betrayed him.
Like I’d belonged to him.
I glared back, heat rushing to my cheeks.
How dare he touch me now?
How dare he ask?
I jerked my arm, hissing out:
“Haath chhodiye humra!”
(Let go of me!)
His jaw clenched.
His eyes dropped for a second—to where our bodies were barely inches apart.
To where his fingers wrapped around my skin.
Something passed in his expression.
A crack. A question. A fire.
But then he let go.
Slowly. Deliberately.
“Lo,” he snapped, stepping back.
“Chhod diya aapko.”
(There. I let go of you.)
His eyes were still raging.
But his voice turned cold.
“Aur ab humari baat dhyaan se suniye—
koi zarurat nahi hai yeh tamasha karne ki!”
(And now listen to me carefully—there is no need to do this drama!)
I felt something break inside me.
YOU ARE READING
𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐬 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 : 𝑨 𝑴𝒂𝒇𝒊𝒂 𝑫𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆
Romance'Devil In Love' 𝗦𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗯𝗼𝗼𝗸: 𝗢𝗻𝗲 •𝑺𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆• Anirudh Roy Chowdhury a well-known billionaire and mafia king. Bondita Das a simple, innocent girl. Anirudh, a formidable figu...
