RUHI POV
I woke up beside him. The sheets were warm, tangled, heavy with the weight of last night with sweat, with skin, with every breath and gasp we had shared. My body ached in that deep, satisfying way. Not from pain, not anymore. From being held. From being seen.
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It’s been three years. Three fucking years since she left. And yet, it feels like yesterday. I didn’t stop her. I watched her pack. Silent. Cold. Pretending like I didn’t care. Like her walking out of the door wasn’t tearing something apart inside me. Maybe I thought if I didn’t beg, if I didn’t plead, I’d come off stronger. But all I did was let the only woman I ever loved slip through my fingers. And every goddamn day since, I’ve been living with that choice. I remember the first time I saw her. She had walked into my production house. And now… now she’s just gone. But she’s always there. In every line I write. In every frame I shoot. In every lullaby I hum to Vedant. She left. But she never really left. And I don’t know how to let her go.
"𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐰 𝐚 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐞... 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝?" She wanted him. Desperately. But he kept his distance. His intentions were unknown to her but he gave her what she needed, the support she needed, the attention she craved for, but there was always something missing. Something that wasn't letting her breathe in peace—the unspoken truth that he wasn’t truly giving her all of him. But even if he didn't give himself to her—he didn’t let anyone else have her either. No one. Not even for a moment. He kept her close, but only at arm’s length. He possessed her without ever fully owning her. He didn't abandon her. But he didn't fully accept her either. Did he crave her the way she wanted him? Did he want her? Even he didn’t know.
"Why did you not listen to me?"I whispered against her lips, my voice husky with a mixture of anger and possessiveness. "I can do anything I please. You have no right to dictate my movements," she retorted, her voice firm. My grip on her waist tightened involuntarily. "Let's go to bed, and I'll show you exactly who I am to you,"I growled, scooping her up in my arms and carrying her towards the bed. I hovered over her, intertwining our hands and gazing intently into her eyes, a venomous glint in my own. "Tell me what you see in my eyes,"I demanded, my voice low and dangerous. Strangely, she remained remarkably calm, her demeanor almost serene. Finally, she spoke, her voice barely a whisper, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "A child," she murmured softly. "What?" I barked, my eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "A little boy," she continued, her voice gaining strength, "who desperately needs protection. A boy who yearns for love, for acceptance, for someone to hold him and never let go. A boy who has always been the shoulder to lean on for others, yet has never found a shoulder to cry on himself. And I... I love this boy." Her smile was fragile, a fleeting expression that mirrored the softening of my own grip on her hands. My eyes stung with a sudden, unexpected wave of emotion. ✰ Falling in love with the daughter of his father's murderer, he found his carefully constructed revenge plan crumbling before his eyes. Years of carefully cultivated hatred threatened to be consumed by a burgeoning affection he never anticipated. Unbeknownst to him, she was the very source of the pain he sought to avenge. Would he succumb to the allure of her love, or would his thirst for vengeance ultimately consume them both?
(english translations not available for the hindi dialogues) 𝗠𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗽𝗻𝗶 𝗰𝗵𝗵𝗼𝘁𝗶 𝘀𝗶 𝗷𝗮𝗮𝗻 𝗸𝗼 𝗮𝗶𝘀𝗲 𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗹𝗮 𝗰𝗵𝗵𝗼𝗱 𝗸𝗲 𝗷𝗮𝗮 𝘀𝗮𝗸𝘁𝗮 𝗵𝘂 𝗸𝘆𝗮? .𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝒀𝒂𝒔𝒉𝒗𝒆𝒆𝒓 𝑨𝒓𝒐𝒓𝒂 -32 years old. Working as movie director for last ten years but doesn't mix his personal life and professional life. .𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝑽𝒂𝒓𝒔𝒉𝒂 𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒖𝒓 -25 years old. An aspiring art student who ends up being selected as the lead actress in a movie accidentally where her whole life changes. ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
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