𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒
What happens when
𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐃𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐏𝐔𝐓𝐑𝐀 - the girl who mastered the art of being unseen,
stitched together with silence and scar tissue,
haunted by the ruins of love and friendsh...
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"Are they here?" I asked my father, who killed his cigarette on the rusted iron railing outside the abandoned warehouse's service gate and nodded before stepping in with me.
I had asked him for a favour again—because I couldn't afford to drag Vedika di into this mess. Not when her biggest opening was around the corner.
Not now.
She wouldn't let me carry blood on my hands either—but tonight, I wasn't asking for permission.
"You punk, you look like someone who escaped a zombie apocalypse," my father complained, fixing his all-black suit. The diamonds on his cufflinks caught the dull yellow glow of the basement's flickering light.
I ignored his comment as we descended the metal stairs into the dark, concrete-lined basement, the smell of rust, sweat, and gasoline hanging thick in the air.
"You must like her a lot," he grumbled.
"Pyaar karta hoon usse, apni jaan se bhi zyada," I replied, and kicked open the last reinforced steel gate leading into the torture room.
The stench of fear greeted us first.
That useless fuck sat there, chained to a chair in the centre, surrounded by a bunch of his cronies, all of them tied to chairs, hands zip-tied behind their backs.
That Vyom, stood there surrounded by a bunch of black-masked men—different from the one I wore. Mine was gold and red, just like Dad's.
"The fuck do you want from me?" Ekansh spat through gritted teeth.
"Your life," I said, picking up the nearest hammer from the weapons table lined against the wall—next to pliers, tasers, iron rods, scalpels, screwdrivers, bolt cutters, and a tray of fire-branded steel sticks.
All perfectly organized.
All meant for pain.
"Listen, you tall piece of shit, I'm the son of the Health Minister. My bodyguard will be here any minute. You'll be dead meat," he said, but his voice lacked even a drop of confidence.
