The black Rolls-Royce purred through the night like a predator stalking the streets.
Aarya sat in the back, wrists bound, lips bloodied, fury in her eyes.
Samrat lounged across from her, legs spread, shirt open at the collar, watching her like a wolf watches a bleeding doe.
“You kidnapped me,” she hissed.
“You fucking bastard—”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
“You act like you didn’t try to kill me three times this week, Aarya.”
“I’m just… leveling the field.”
She spat at his feet.
“You’re insane.”
Samrat smirked, reaching out, grabbing her chin between his fingers.
His grip was gentle, almost tender — except for the cold steel beneath.
“Oh, darling…”
His voice dropped to a dark whisper.
“You have no idea how insane I am.”
......................
...****************...
FLASHBACK — Age 10 (Samrat)
...****************...
The opulent silence of the manor was a shroud, thick and suffocating, broken only by the frantic drumming of five-year-old Samrat's heart. Blood bloomed like a grotesque flower on his tiny white shirt, a stain he didn't understand, yet it seared into his memory. His mother, her normally vibrant face ashen, lay crumpled by the cold fireplace, her eyes wide open in death, staring at a horror only she had witnessed.
Then, a rasping cough, and his father, clutching his own bleeding side, beckoned him closer. With a final, shuddering breath, a whisper escaped his lips, barely audible above the ringing in Samrat's ears: "You were promised. You must claim her." The words, cryptic and heavy with a destiny he couldn't grasp, became a chilling echo in the sudden, absolute quiet that followed, leaving Samrat utterly alone in a world forever altered.
......................
...****************...
Back to Present
...****************...
The car stopped.
Aarya was yanked out, her heels scraping against marble as Samrat’s men dragged her inside a towering estate.
The doors slammed shut behind her — and she realized the walls weren’t just stone.
They were lined with velvet.
A cage disguised as a palace.
...----------------...
In the master bedroom, Samrat loosened his tie, watching her with those cold, dark eyes.
“You’ll sleep here.”
Aarya crossed her arms.
“I’m not your prisoner.”
He smirked, stepping closer until she could feel his breath on her lips.
“No, darling. You’re my wife.”
She slapped him — hard, sharp, satisfying.
For a moment, he stood perfectly still, blood rising on his cheek.
Then, slow as death, he turned back to her, a dark grin twisting his mouth.
“Good.”
“I like you better when you fight.”
......................
...****************...
...☠ DISCLAIMER ☠...
...****************...
...This is a work of fiction....
...It’s dark. It’s violent. It’s cruel....
It will break you, twist you, and leave you raw.
...Fall for the characters?...
...That’s your mistake....
...They don’t care....
...They will burn you, betray you, destroy you —...
...and they’re not even real....
...The blood, the heartbreak, the madness?...
...It’s all just ink and words....
...But it will scar if you let it....
...If you can’t handle brutality, crime, or the blackest parts of the human soul —...
...walk away now....
...This story takes no prisoners....
...You’ve been warned....
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...FOLLOW FOR MORE ...
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