Morning sunlight slipped quietly into the room, brushing against the curtains before spilling across the bed.

Richa stirred slightly, her lashes fluttering open as warmth wrapped around her.

Not sunlight.

Aryaman.

His arm was draped over her waist, pulling her impossibly close, his face half-buried in her hair like he refused to let the morning take her away.

A faint smile touched her lips.

“You’re awake,” she whispered softly.

“No,” he murmured instantly, tightening his hold. “Go back to sleep.”

She let out a quiet laugh. “You’re talking.”

“Sleep talking,” he replied, voice rough with drowsiness.

She turned slightly in his arms, just enough to look at him. His eyes were still closed, but there was that familiar calm on his face… the kind that only came when he was with her.

Her fingers brushed lightly against his cheek.

“You have a meeting,” she reminded.

He opened one eye lazily. “Canceling.”

“Aryaman…”

“For you? Always.”

She rolled her eyes, but her smile deepened. “Liar.”

He shifted, suddenly pulling her on top of him before she could react.

“Aryaman—”

“Five minutes,” he said, his hands settling at her waist. “Just stay.”

Her breath caught slightly at the closeness, but she didn’t move.

Didn’t want to.

Moments like this… they felt rare, fragile.

Like something you didn’t question too much.

His gaze softened as he looked at her.

“You’ve been quiet,” he said.

“I just woke up,” she replied lightly.

“Hmm,” he murmured, clearly not convinced—but he let it go.

Instead, his hand slid up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, his thumb lingering against her skin.

“Don’t go anywhere today,” he said quietly.

Her heart skipped.

“Why?”

“Just…” he paused, then smirked faintly, “stay. I feel like keeping you with me.”

She smiled, leaning down slightly, her forehead brushing his.

“I need to go to the market,” she said softly. “I’ll be back before you miss me.”

He raised a brow. “That’s impossible.”

She laughed under her breath, pushing herself up.

“Get ready for your meeting,” she said, stepping away before he could pull her back again.

His gaze followed her.

Lingering.

Like he didn’t quite like the idea of her leaving.

The market was alive, as always.

Crowded lanes, colorful stalls, voices overlapping in a constant hum of life.

Richa walked through it, her steps unhurried, her mind still faintly wrapped in the warmth of the morning.

A small smile played on her lips as she stopped near a stall, absentmindedly picking up a piece of fabric.

Don’t go anywhere today.

His words echoed in her head.

She shook it off lightly.

He just says things like that.

Still…

Her fingers tightened slightly around her bag.

A strange feeling brushed past her.

Like something wasn’t right.

She turned her head subtly, scanning the crowd.

Nothing.

Just people moving, talking, living.

Normal.

She exhaled slowly, forcing herself to relax.

“You’re overthinking,” she murmured under her breath.

And that’s when it happened.

A hand grabbed her arm.

Hard.

Before she could even react, she was pulled back abruptly, her body colliding into something solid.

Her breath hitched—

A cloth pressed tightly over her mouth.

Her eyes widened in shock as she struggled, her hands pushing against the grip holding her.

“Stay quiet,” a low voice warned near her ear.

Her movements grew frantic, but the strength behind her was overpowering.

Within seconds, she was dragged toward a nearby van.

The door slid open.

She tried to scream—

But it came out muffled, lost against the fabric.

The world blurred as she was shoved inside.

The door slammed shut.

Darkness.

Her heartbeat thundered in her ears as the van jerked forward.

Everything moved too fast.

Too sudden.

Her strength began to fade, her vision dimming despite her fight.

The last thing she saw—

Was the market continuing outside.

Unbothered.

Unaware.

When she woke up, silence greeted her.

Heavy.

Unnatural.

Her head throbbed as she slowly opened her eyes, blinking against the dim light.

Broken walls.

Dust.

Rust.

The abandoned mill.

Panic hit instantly.

She tried to move—her wrists restrained.

“Finally awake.”

The voice echoed through the empty space.

Richa’s head snapped up.

A man stepped out from the shadows, his face partially hidden, his presence calm… controlled.

Dangerous.

“Where am I?” she demanded, her voice unsteady.

He ignored the question, walking closer instead.

“You shouldn’t have come alone,” he said casually.

Her jaw clenched. “Who are you?”

“Someone who knows exactly how much Aryaman values you.”

Her breath faltered.

“What do you want?” she asked, fear creeping into her voice despite her effort.

He stopped a few steps away.

Close enough.

“I want you to leave him.”

The words felt unreal.

“…what?”

“Walk away,” he repeated. “End whatever this is between you and Aryaman.”

Her eyes hardened. “You think I’ll do that because you kidnapped me?”

A faint smile appeared on his lips.

“No,” he said calmly. “I think you’ll do it because you don’t have a choice.”

Her heart started pounding again.

“And why is that?”

For a moment, he said nothing.

Then slowly… he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

He tapped the screen.

Turned it toward her.

Her breath stopped.

Aryaman.

On the screen.

Alive.

Unaware.

Her chest tightened painfully.

“I can reach him anytime I want,” the man said quietly.

Her lips parted, but no words came out.

“You leave him,” he continued, his voice turning cold, “or I kill your husband.”

Silence crashed around her.

And just like that—

The warmth of the morning felt like a lifetime ago.

CH 33 TRIGGER

The house felt the same.Nothing had changed.

The same walls. The same quiet. The same warmth that once wrapped around her like safety.But to Richa… it all felt distant.

Like she had stepped into someone else’s life and was just pretending to belong.

The door clicked shut behind her.

Her fingers lingered on the handle for a second longer than necessary… as if once she let go, everything would begin.

“Richa?”Aryaman’s voice reached her instantly.

She looked up.

He was already walking toward her, his expression shifting the moment he saw her face.

Concern. Sharp. Immediate.

“Where were you?” he asked, stopping right in front of her. “I called you twice.”

Her heartbeat stumbled.

“I… market,” she said, forcing a small smile. “It was crowded. Network—”

His hand came up before she could finish, resting against her forehead.

“Fever?” he murmured.

The softness of that touch,It nearly shattered her composure.

“I’m fine,” she said quickly.

His hand slid down, cupping her cheek instead, his thumb brushing lightly across her skin.

“You don’t look fine.”

“I’m just tired.”

His eyes searched hers, lingering… as if trying to read what she refused to say.

“Richa,” he said quietly, “look at me.”

She already was,And that was the problem.Because the moment their eyes locked Everything inside her trembled.

“You’re hiding something.”

Her throat tightened.

“No.”

“Since when do you lie this badly?” he murmured, not accusing—just certain.

“I’m not lying.”

A pause.

Then suddenly,He pulled her into him.

Firm. close.

Her breath caught as her face pressed against his chest, his arms wrapping around her like instinct.

“Fine,” he whispered against her hair. “Don’t tell me.”

Her hands curled into his shirt without thinking.

“Just don’t disappear like that again.”

Her eyes burned.Because that’s exactly what she was about to do.

Dinner passed in quiet fragments.

Aryaman tried,He really did.

Light teasing. Small stories. Little touches under the table. Anything to bring her back.

And Richa… she tried too.She nodded. Responded. Even smiled once when he deliberately exaggerated a story just to get a reaction.

But her mind,It kept echoing.

*Leave him… or he dies.*Her grip tightened around her spoon.

“Richa.”

She looked up.

He was watching her again.

Always watching.

“You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Going somewhere I can’t follow.”

Her breath stilled.

“I’m right here.”

“No,” he said softly. “You’re not.”

Silence.

Then he stood, holding his hand out toward her.“Come.”

The bedroom door closed with a soft click.But the sound echoed louder than it should have.

Richa stood near the edge of the bed, her back stiff, her hands clasped together to hide their trembling.

Aryaman loosened his watch, placing it aside without taking his eyes off her.

“Now,” he said calmly, stepping closer, “you’re going to tell me what’s wrong.”

“There’s nothing—”Before she could finish, he reached for her.

In one smooth motion, her back met the wall, his hand braced beside her head.

“Aryaman—”

“Don’t,” he murmured, voice low. “Don’t lie to me again.”His fingers slid gently through her hair, tucking it behind her ear, lingering at her neck.

Familiar. Safe.Dangerously so.

“You think I don’t notice?” he continued. “The way you’ve been all day?”

Her eyes fluttered shut for a second.

If he kept this up…She would break.

“I’m just tired,” she whispered again.

He exhaled softly, his forehead resting against hers.

“You’re a terrible liar.”Her lips trembled.

His hand moved to her waist, pulling her closer.

“Talk to me.”

She couldn’t.

If she spoke...Everything would collapse.

So instead…She leaned into him.

Hiding.Escaping.

For a moment, he didn’t move.

Then slowly… his grip tightened.

“Fine,” he murmured. “Don’t talk.”His lips brushed her forehead.

Soft. Lingering.

“I’ll make you forget.”Her breath caught.

“Aryaman…”

Too late.

His lips trailed from her forehead to her cheek, slow, unhurried, like he had all the time in the world.

Like nothing was wrong. Like she wasn’t standing on the edge of destroying everything.

Her hands pressed against his chest weakly.

“Aryaman… stop…”

He paused.Just enough to look at her.

“Why?” he asked softly.

Because if he came any closer…She wouldn’t be able to do it.

Her fingers trembled.

And in that moment,Everything inside her collapsed into one decision.

Dark.

Her hand slowly moved down.

Not pushing him away.

Not holding him closer.

Something else.

Until,Cold metal pressed into her palm.

He didn’t notice.

He was still watching her.Still waiting.

“I’m sorry…” she whispered.

Then,She lifted her hand.

The gun came between them.

And stopped.Right against his chest.

Aryaman blinked once.

Looked down at the gun.Then back at her.

For a second,He almost smiled.

A faint, disbelieving curve of his lips.

“Very funny,” he said lightly. “What is this? Some kind of joke?”

Her grip tightened.

“It’s not a joke.”Something in her voice,It wiped the expression off his face instantly.

The air shifted.His eyes searched hers again.Deeper this time.

“Richa…” he said slowly, carefully, “put it down.”

She shook her head.“No.”

A pause.His jaw tightened slightly.

“If this is anger, if I did something—then say it,” he continued, voice still controlled but harder now. “Don’t do this.”

“You didn’t do anything.”

“Then what is this?” he demanded, a sharp edge finally breaking through.

Her finger trembled against the trigger.

“This is me ending it.”The words felt like knives in her own chest.

Silence.

He stared at her. As if trying to force the truth out of her without words.

“You don’t mean that,” he said.

“I do.”

“Look at me and say it again.”She did.

And it nearly destroyed her.

“I don’t want this anymore.”

A lie.The biggest one.And yet she held it.

His expression changed.

“Who’s forcing you?” he asked quietly.

“No one.”

“Richa—”

“No one!” she snapped, her voice shaking. “This is my choice.”

Silence fell again.Then slowly…

He exhaled.And something inside him stilled.

“If it’s your choice…” he said quietly, “then do it.”

Her breath hitched.He stepped closer.

The gun pressing harder into his chest.

Still,He didn’t stop.

“If you really want to end this,” he continued, his voice low, steady, “then don’t hesitate.”

Her hand shook violently now.

Tears blurred her vision.

“I hate you,” she forced out.

He nodded once.“Then pull the trigger.”

And just like that,Everything stood on the edge of breaking.

...

CH 34- BETRAYAL

Richa’s hand trembles slightly, the gun pointed straight at Aryaman’s chest.

Her voice is firm, but not steady.“Don’t come closer.”

Aryaman doesn’t listen.

Slow. Controlled. Dangerous.

One step.Then another.

His eyes don’t leave hers—not the gun, not her shaking fingers*her*.

“Shoot, Richa,” he says quietly. “Or lower it.”

She tightens her grip. “I’m serious—”

Before she can finish—

He moves.

Fast.

His hand grips her wrist, twisting just enough—the gun shifts away from him. In the same motion, he slams her back against the wall, her breath hitching as his body cages hers in.

The gun is still in her hand… but no longer in control.

His face inches from hers.

Voice low. Dark. Controlled anger simmering beneath—

“Next time you point a gun at me…”His thumb presses against her wrist, forcing it slightly upward.“…make sure you actually pull the trigger.”

Her breath stutters—but she doesn’t back down.Instead, she lifts her chin slightly, eyes burning.

“Maybe I will.”

For a second,Silence.

Heavy. Dangerous. Electric.

A flicker of something wild crosses his face.“Try,” he murmurs.

The air between them shifts anger blurring into something deeper… something far more dangerous.

His grip tightens at her waist.Her fingers curl into his shirt.

Neither of them steps back.

A sudden sound,**Gunshot.**

Not from them.

From outside.

Both freeze.

Instinct takes over faster than emotion.

Aryaman immediately pulls her down with him, turning his body to shield hers as another bullet hits the wall behind them.

“Stay down,” he orders.

This time—she listens.Her grip tightens on his arm.

“Who is it?” she whispers.

His jaw hardens. Eyes sharp now.“Not the time.”

Another shot.

Closer.

He grabs the gun from her hand,but instead of taking it away, he checks it quickly and pushes it back into her grip.

“Can you shoot?” he asks.

She looks at him.

Fear. Anger. Trust. All colliding.

“…Yes.”

A beat.

He nods once.“Good. Stay behind me.”

There’s no apology.

No explanation.Just war.

But the tension hasn’t disappeared.

It’s worse now.Because even with a gunfight outside—

What’s between them is still loaded.The gunshots stop as suddenly as they began.

Silence falls—but it’s not relief.

Aryaman moves first.

Fast. Precise. Ruthless.

He tracks the masked man through the shadows, eyes sharp, every instinct locked in. The man tries to run,But Aryaman is faster.

He grabs him from behind, slamming him hard against the ground. The impact knocks the air out of him. The gun flies from the attacker’s hand.

Richa rushes forward, breath uneven.

“Aryaman”

“I’ve got him.”His voice is cold. Controlled. Dangerous.

He twists the man’s arm behind his back, knee pressing into his spine.

“Take. Off. The mask.”

The man resists.

Aryaman doesn’t repeat himself.

He grips the mask and yanks it off,And everything stops.

Richa’s breath catches.

Her voice comes out in a whisper of disbelief “…Kabir?”

Aryaman goes still for half a second.

Not shock.

Kabir lets out a broken laugh, blood at the corner of his lip.“Surprised?”

Richa steps back, shaking her head slowly.“No… no, this—this can’t be…”Her voice cracks.

“You blackmailed me… the messages… the threats—why?”

Kabir’s eyes shift to her.

And there it is.

“I did it for you,” he says, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “You think I could just watch you with him?” His gaze flicks to Aryaman, filled with hatred. “You deserve better.”

Richa’s face pales.“You forced me… you scared me…”

“I love you!” Kabir snaps, voice rising. “I’ve always loved you! You just never saw it—too busy with *him*.”

The air turns suffocating.

Aryaman’s grip tightens.“You call this love?” His voice drops low, lethal.

Kabir smirks faintly. “At least I had the courage to act on it.”

Aryaman loses control.

His fist connects with Kabir’s face—hard.

Richa flinches. “Aryaman"

But he doesn’t stop.

All the anger. The jealousy. The thought of someone threatening her, touching her fear—

It pours out.

Punch after punch.

“You don’t get to say her name,” he growls, dragging Kabir up by the collar before slamming him back down. “You don’t get to *breathe* near her.”

Kabir coughs, barely conscious now.

Richa grabs Aryaman’s arm.

“Aryaman… enough.”

Her voice is soft—but it reaches him.Barely.

His chest rises and falls heavily. His knuckles bloodied.

For a moment, it looks like he might hit again.

But then,He stops.Pushes Kabir away like he’s nothing.“Call the police.”

Red and blue lights flash against the darkness.Kabir is dragged away, barely able to stand.

For the first time

There’s silence without fear.

Richa stands still, staring at nothing.

Then slowly…She turns to Aryaman.

Her eyes fill.

“I… I pointed a gun at you…”Her voice breaks.

“I thought—you—I didn’t know what to believe… I’m so sorry… I’m so, so sorry…”The words spill out, uneven, desperate.

She steps closer.

Then closer.

Until she’s right in front of him.

“I was scared… and I hurt you…”Her hands clutch his shirt.“I’m sorry…”

And then She breaks.Tears fall freely as she leans into him.

For a second,Aryaman doesn’t move.

Then his arms wrap around her. Like he’s making sure she’s real. Safe. Still his.His hand presses against the back of her head, pulling her closer into his chest.

“Don’t,” he mutters, voice rough. “Don’t ever point a gun at me again.”His grip tightens slightly.

“…Not unless you’re ready to lose me.”

She shakes her head instantly against him.“Never.”

Her fingers clutch him harder.“I won’t… I swear…”

He exhales slowly.The anger fades.

Not completely,But enough.

His chin rests lightly against her head.And for the first time tonight they’re not fighting.

Not running.

Just holding on.

Because after everything they almost lost each other.

And that fear…Is louder than anything else.

CH- 35 can't lose (18+)

The night had settled into a strange calm by the time Aryaman stepped out of the police station.

His knuckles still stung.His mind still burned.

Kabir’s face.Richa’s tears.That gun.

Everything replayed in fragments.

He loosened his collar as he walked inside the house, exhaustion finally creeping into his bones.The hallway was quiet.

Too quiet.

His brows knit slightly.The bedroom door was closed. No light seeped from beneath it.

For a second, his instincts sharpened again.Slowly, he reached for the handle and pushed the door open.

And stopped.The room was glowing.

Soft golden fairy lights draped across the walls, flickering like quiet stars. In one corner, a small tent was set up beside the bed, delicate and intimate, lined with cushions and sheer fabric that moved gently in the air.

The bed itself was covered in scattered petals.The sharpness in his expression faded into something unreadable.

Then,He heard her.The soft sound of footsteps behind him.

Aryaman turned.

And for a moment…He forgot how to breathe.

Richa stood there.Cherry red.

A short dress that barely brushed her thighs, the fabric clinging softly to her frame. The back was completely bare, her skin glowing under the dim lights, her hair falling over one shoulder.

No fear.

No hesitation.

Just her.

His gaze darkened instantly.

Slow.

Intense.Taking in every detail.

“You did all this?” he asked, voice low, roughened by everything he hadn’t said yet.

She nodded, fingers nervously twisting for a second before she stilled them.

“I didn’t know how else to…” her voice softened, “…fix what I broke.”Silence filled the space between them.

Heavy.Then he stepped closer.

One step,Until there was barely any distance left.

His eyes didn’t leave hers.“You think this fixes it?” he asked quietly.

Her breath hitched.

“No,” she whispered honestly. “But I wanted to try.”A flicker of something passed through his face.

He reached out slowly.His fingers brushed her arm.

“You were shaking,” he murmured, eyes dropping briefly to her lips, then back to her eyes. “When you held that gun.”

Her throat tightened.

“I was scared,” she admitted. “Not of you… of losing you.”That did something.His jaw clenched slightly.

His hand slid from her arm to her waist, pulling her closer in one firm motion.

Her breath caught.

“Then remember that,” he said, voice low, almost a warning. “Because I don’t give second chances easily.”

She nodded quickly, her hands coming up to rest against his chest.

“I know…”

Then softer,“But I’ll fight for this one.”Something in him snapped.

His grip tightened at her waist as he pulled her flush against him.His other hand moved to her back, fingers brushing against bare skin, slow and deliberate.Her breath turned uneven instantly.

“You look like trouble tonight,” he murmured near her ear.

A faint, nervous smile touched her lips.

“Maybe I am.”His lips almost brushed her skin as he leaned closer.

“Good,” he said quietly. “Because I’m not in the mood to be gentle.”

Her heart raced at the tone.

Instead, her fingers curled into his shirt, pulling him closer.He tilted her chin up, his gaze locking onto hers one last time before closing the distance.

The kiss wasn’t soft.She responded just as fiercely, like she needed to prove something.

His hand tightened at her waist, lifting her slightly as he moved her back toward the bed, the soft glow of lights surrounding them.

The world outside disappeared.And the storm they almost became.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against hers, both of them breathing unevenly.

“This doesn’t end here,” he said quietly.

She shook her head, eyes still closed.“I don’t want it to.”

His thumb brushed lightly against her cheek, catching a tear she didn’t realize had fallen.

“Good,” he murmured“But next time…”

His gaze darkened again."…don’t make me wonder if you’ll choose me.”

Her eyes opened instantly.“I will,” she whispered. “Every time.”

He held her gaze for a long second.

Then pulled her back into him.

He kissed on her neck as she tilted her neck providing him all acess.He flipped her again,her eyes looking at his,he started kissing her lips hungrily,when her tiny hands reached on his belt buckle,his eyes looked at his sharply,she opened it, taking a step back,she bent herself on her knees.

Her eyes again looked at his.

"Whatever you'd done,you should use your little mouth instead of hand"His hand grabbed her jaw dangerously.

She chuckled and lowered his pants and boxers.

Looking straight at him,she grabbed his erection from hand and then in mouth, his head leaned back "fuck"..

He pushed himself more into her,while she continued the rhythm,room filled with wet sloppy noises and his groans, before he can release himself,he pulled her up and kissed her mouth, twisting their tongues with each other.

His hand moved to her waist as he grabbed her and twirling her put her into high side table, throwing the things placed on it.

"Aryaman..Are you an idiot?" She yelled as he throw the things.

"Don't yell now,I can give more reasons to tell and scream my name" He said placing his lips on her visible cleavage.

Her hand ran down his neck to his back pulling him closer as he removed her cherry outfit.

As he pulled her on edge of the table, leaning down,his mouth traced her inner thighs while he placed her legs on his shoulders,his tongue lapped her inner folds, teasing her,as she clenched her legs raising himself up He made her taste herself.

Taking her from table,her legs wrapped on his waist,this time her kissing him hungrily.

He put her on bed, placing his top of shaft on her entrance, when she said "you know I have a fantasy"He stopped looking at her ...

"And what is that,let me fulfill it"He said.

"To beat my husband from his own belt"She said and his face fell down.

"Very funny" he said mimicking..

While she chuckled,and he entered himself in her, continuing it in rhythm, grabbing her bosoms tightly.

He spooned her from behind, taking her one leg in his hold and thrusting into her, pounding himself fastly and desperately.

His thrusts and her moans make an alternative rhythm,he increased his pace,he finally exhaled out along with his release on her thighs.

"Now don't you dare to come near me atleast for a week"She said pushing him a little.

"Will try,no promises "He said, running his hand on his hairs and placing a kiss on her forehead.