The Homecoming

The Homecoming

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Fri, Jan 10, 2014
The rest was a blur of voices and words that I can’t remember for the life of me because the entire time those four words just kept repeating in my head. “We’re moving to India” and just like that, with no prior warning, the dainty little bubble that had become my life, popped. Leaving me covered from head to toe in its gooey remains.
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What had I done? Rajveer Pratap Ranawat was a crime lord, king of the fucking underworld and I was here, in his den with nothing but a notepad and a pen. His presence was suffocating, bone chilling. "You think you can uncover my secrets, Miss Sharma?" His voice was a low, dangerous rumble, sending a shiver down my spine. "You're playing a dangerous game." I squared my shoulders, trying to muster the same bravado that had carried me into this lion's den. "I'm not playing," I retorted, my voice betraying a hint of defiance laced with unease. "I'm here for the truth, no matter how deep it runs." A predatory smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his dark eyes gleaming with something that sent a chill through me. "Oh, I know your kind," he murmured, taking a slow step closer until his presence enveloped me. "Bold on the surface, trembling underneath." "I'm not afraid of you," I insisted, though the way his fingers brushed against my arm sent a jolt of electricity through me. His expression hardened, his grip tightening just enough to convey his power. "You should be," he whispered, his breath hot against my cheek. "In my world, fear is survival." His eyes bore into mine with a primal intensity, a challenge and a warning wrapped into one. "You are already in deeper than you realize," he murmured, his voice softening imperceptibly. "And now that you are in, there is no turning back." The room seemed to close in around us and then is when I realised that I had stepped into a dangerous game-one where the lines between adversary and attraction blurred dangerously, threatening to consume me in ways I never imagined possible. "And you, my Dove," Rajveer's voice cut through the thick silence like a blade, chilling me to the core. His tone held a possessive edge, cold and commanding. "look like you are meant to be mine. And what is mine," he paused, his dark eyes boring into mine with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine, "stays with me."

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