I wrote this update while being high on air. And my laptop kept forcing me to nearly drop the idea of writing it. Yeah, it is facing some serious glitches and keeps zoning out more than humans do. Please read at your own discretion. Though I hope it makes you smirk the way it made me, and swoon a little too *wink*
Happy Reading!
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Ho jatt naa clash karde
Bade mode main trolleyan ch paake
Ho jatt naa clash karde
Bade mode main trolleyan ch paake
Dilraj's POV
Once upon a dark night, nestled between thick trees and an abandoned highway, a war had started. And the thing about wars is that each one of them has an end. A dark, brutal end. But what most people don't remember while starting a war with Dilraj Singh Dhaliwal is that he believes that life is a full circle. It ends where it began.
Standing on the same road that nearly killed me, I smile down at Devaj's bruised face. The defeat in his eyes soothed my ache. The fear crippling his senses reminded me of a similar shiver that ran down my spine on seeing my Mehar lying in that hospital bed, fighting for her life. Devaj's condition, as he incoherently begged me to spare his life on his knees, didn't bring any sympathy to my cold heart. He had been clearly warned not to mess with my family.
When his assistant had tried to impose my death sentence, I hadn't felt anything. Neither pain nor the need to avenge. My self-control was accustomed to such games. After all, I was known for my restraint. The ability to not lose my temper in any situation. The moment Mehar was involved, it was gone. Evaporated in thin air.
If that night I had been the one harmed and made my way out of the mouth of death, I would have given Devaj another chance. I would have believed in the power of transformation or "change of heart" out of fear. He could have used it either for redemption or to attack again. I believe in second chances, but unfortunately, no third chances. However, it wasn't me who paid the price for his silly games. It was that one woman I'd burn the world for with a smile.
Today, the fate I am going to ink for this despicable man isn't revenge. It isn't my sick need to retaliate. It is compensation. Compensation for harming something he wasn't even allowed to stand near. For the past month, I had tightly leashed my demons inside, no matter how much they wanted to chase him, kill him right at the same place where I saw my woman inside the burning car, tear him apart, and hear him tremble for mercy — but offer none. Today was the day to do just that.
Unlike him, I won't hide. I won't do it in the veil of the dark. Because men with thick spines don't backstab, they hunt. They relish. They take pride in the blood on their claws. If we do it, we do it with valor. Through him, I will make the message loud and clear. You touch my wife, my mehar, and I will make sure people address you as past. As something long buried and never remembered. After all, touch her and die is old, look at her and you'll be a story never told.
