CHAPTER 28! CLUB #3
The room plummeted into absolute silence. For five excruciating seconds, nobody breathed. Aryav didn't even flinch.
He stood perfectly still as the dark stain spread across his shirt.
Idiot!
Bottle se maarte hain kisi ko?
Pagal aadmi!
...
Mera pati...
"Aryav!" Aadhira moved before her brain could even process the action. She crossed the room, her hands flattening against his arm, her fingers pressing over the blooming stain.
Warm blood stained her fingers.
"Aryav, you're bleeding-"
Aryav finally looked at her.
Not at Samarth.
Not at the blood.
At her.
"Did he touch you?" The question was dangerously quiet.
Aadhira froze.
Then slowly shook her head.
Aryav nodded once. "Good."
With agonizing detachment, Aryav reached up and calmly removed a jagged shard of glass from his shoulder.
He dropped it onto the floor, the heavy crystal clinking against the marble. Then he looked at Samarth again.
His gaze was entirely dead and cold. Without looking away from Samarth, Aryav unfastened his watch. He placed it carefully on the table.
"Out," Aryav commanded softly.
One word, followed by a silent promise. Aadhira froze, looking into his unreadable eyes, before slowly nodding.
As she turned toward the door, her knees weak, she cast one final look over her shoulder.
Samarth stood trapped against the wall, entirely surrounded by three predators who operated outside the boundaries of normal men.
And for the first time since this nightmare had begun, Aadhira wasn't afraid of Samarth anymore.
Beside her, Vivaan opened the door. "Miss Kashvi." She looked up, pale and quiet. "I strongly recommend being somewhere else for the next few hours,"
Vivaan said, his voice smooth as silk and twice as chilling.
Together, the two women stepped into the corridor. Behind them, the heavy mahogany door began to swing shut, cutting off the VIP lounge from the rest of the world. As the gap narrowed, Samarth finally found his voice. "Aryav-"
The door shut before he could finish, cutting off whatever came next.
So aryav said without looking at him
"Not again shourya...I choose mercy before, I am not doing it again."
Shourya was leaning against the black SUV when Aadhira stepped out of the club's private exit.
The night air felt colder now, biting through her clothes. Vivaan's car had already swept Kashvi away, leaving a heavy, ringing quiet in the alleyway.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Shourya just watched her, his jacket open, his hands buried deep in his pockets.
"Aap gussa ho?" she asked quietly, her voice sounding small even to her own ears.
Shourya laughed once.
It was a short, dry sound-tired more than amused. "Gussa?"
His gaze lifted slowly to her face. "No."
That somehow felt a hundred times worse.
Aadhira swallowed past the lump forming in her throat. "Bhai-"
"You know what the funny part is?" His voice remained perfectly calm, completely level.
"When you were twelve, you called me because somebody stole your lunch box. You cried for forty minutes over a plastic box. You were sixteen when that idiot from your tuition followed you home three blocks. You called me."
Aadhira looked away, her chest tightening.
"And tonight? You thought blackmail was the one thing you had to handle alone."
The quiet disappointment in his voice landed harder than any anger ever could.
Aadhira felt her throat constrict, a burning sensation stinging the back of her eyes. "I didn't want anyone getting hurt. I didn't want you or Aryav ruining your lives because of my past."
Shourya stared at her for a long moment. Then, he stepped away from the SUV and closed the distance between them.
"Sun," he said, gently lifting her chin so she had to look at him. "Tu meri chhoti behen hai. Tere liye agar poori duniya se ladna pade na... toh main bina ek baar soche ladunga. Khoon mere haath pe lagega toh uska hisaab main Bhagwan ko dunga. Aur uska bojh tu kabhi apne sar pe mat lena."
The tears she had been desperately holding back all night finally broke, spilling hot down her cheeks.
Shourya reached out and pulled her tightly into his chest. She hid her face in his shoulder the way she used to as a child, as though her brother could still keep the whole world away.
He brought his hand up, gently wiping her tears with his thumb, before lightly knocking his forehead against hers.
"Pagal ladki," he muttered under his breath, his voice rough and thick with uncharacteristic emotion.
"Ek phone kar deti.
Bas ek."
Aadhira buried her face into his shoulder, nodding silently as the heavy armor she had worn all day finally shattered into pieces.
She was safe. But even as the warmth of her brother's embrace grounded her, her mind drifted back to the quiet, bloody room inside the club.
Tonight she finally understood why people lowered their voices when they spoke Aryav Singhania's name.
It wasn't respect.
It wasn't power.
It was fear.
And for the first time... she wasn't afraid of him. She was afraid of what loving him would turn him into.