The night was eerily silent, the kind of quiet that preceded a storm. Naina Sharma clutched the folds of her dupatta, the chill of the unfamiliar mansion seeping into her bones. Her heart pounded in her chest, too loud, too fast—drowning out every rational thought.
This wasn’t a dream. It wasn’t a nightmare either. Nightmares ended when you woke up. This was real. A twisted, inescapable reality.
The man standing before her was the embodiment of control. Aarav Malhotra. Tall, imposing, with eyes so dark they looked like the abyss itself. He was a man who spoke in commands, not requests. A man who didn’t believe in choices—at least not for people like her.
"You don’t have to do this," she whispered, her voice shaking despite the fire burning inside her.
Aarav took a step forward, his presence suffocating. "I already did, Jaan." His voice was smooth, laced with something dangerous. "You are mine now. Accept it."
Her fingers clenched, nails digging into her palms. "You can't force me to stay."
A smirk ghosted his lips, but his eyes remained cold, unreadable. "Try to leave, and you’ll see just how much I can."
The storm inside her clashed with the storm inside him. One of them would have to break. But it wouldn’t be him.
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