Chapter 24
The moment his lips crashed onto hers, the world stopped.
There was no mansion.
No betrayal.
No past.
There was only him.
Agastya.
His hands gripping her waist, pulling her closer, burning her with his touch.
His breath mixing with hers, consuming her, ruining her.
And Anvi?
She should have pushed him away.
Should have slapped him, screamed, fought.
But instead—
Her fingers fisted his shirt.
Her body arched into him.
Her mind surrendered to the war she had already lost.
Because the truth?
She wanted him.
Hated him.
Needed him.
And that?
That was her final mistake.
---
Agastya’s grip tightened, his kiss deepening, raw, desperate, possessive.
Like he was branding her, reminding her that no matter how much she fought him…
She would always end up here.
Trapped in his arms.
In his world.
In him.
Her breath came in short gasps, her heart hammering against her ribs as his hands roamed lower, gripping, claiming, owning.
And when his lips trailed down her jaw, to the sensitive skin of her throat,
She let out a soft whimper.
And Agastya?
He froze.
His breathing rough, uneven.
And then—
He let out a low, dark chuckle.
"You like this, don’t you, Pari?"
Her stomach flipped.
She opened her mouth to deny it—
But he was already ahead of her.
His fingers brushed against her lips, silencing her.
"No more lies. No more running." His voice was a whisper, but it felt like a vow.
"You’re mine. And now? Now, you finally understand it."
Her chest heaved.
Her mind screamed at her to fight.
But her body?
Her body betrayed her.
Because for the first time—
She didn’t push him away.
---
Hours later, she sat on the edge of their bed, staring at the faint red marks on her wrists.
His marks.
His proof that no matter how much she tried to fight…
She would always end up in his arms.
The door creaked open.
She didn’t have to turn.
Didn’t have to look.
Because she felt him.
Felt his presence, his heat, his power.
Agastya stepped inside, his shirt slightly unbuttoned, his sleeves rolled up, his gaze locked onto hers.
Dark. Unapologetic.
"Did you think I wouldn’t come back for more?"
Her stomach tightened.
Her fingers clenched the bedsheets.
"You got what you wanted, Agastya." Her voice was hollow, broken. "Isn’t that enough?"
A slow, wicked smirk curled on his lips.
"Enough? Pari, I’ve barely even started."
Her pulse stilled.
"I told you…" He stepped closer, towering over her, his fingers tilting her chin up.
"I don’t just want you. I want your mind. Your heart. Your soul."
His thumb brushed against her bottom lip, teasing.
"And now that I’ve had a taste? I’ll never let you go."
Her breath hitched.
Because the worst part?
She knew he meant it.
And even worse?
A part of her didn’t want him to stop.
---
Just as Agastya’s lips moved closer again—
The door slammed open.
"Hukum! We have a problem."
Agastya whipped around, his entire body going rigid.
Kabir stood at the entrance, his face grim, urgent.
"It’s them. They’ve made their move."
Agastya’s entire aura shifted.
Dark. Lethal. Unforgiving.
And Anvi?
Her breath caught.
Because she knew.
This wasn’t just about him anymore.
This was about her.
Because whoever was coming—
They weren’t here for Agastya.
They were here to kill her.
And for the first time—
She wasn’t sure if she feared them.
Or if she feared what Agastya would do to them.
Because Hukum wasn’t just her captor.
He was about to become her greatest weapon.
---
The room felt colder.
The second Kabir spoke, the air shifted.
Agastya was no longer just her husband.
No longer the man who had spent the night ruining her, breaking her, claiming her.
He was now Hukum.
The man everyone feared.
And now?
Now, someone had dared to challenge him.
Anvi’s breath caught as Agastya turned toward Kabir, his expression sharper than a blade.
"Who?" His voice was calm. Too calm.
Kabir’s jaw tightened. "We don’t know yet. But they left a message."
Agastya’s eyes darkened. "Where?"
Kabir reached into his jacket, pulling out a folded piece of bloodstained paper.
He handed it over.
And the moment Agastya opened it—everything changed.
---
Anvi watched as Agastya’s shoulders tensed, his jaw clenching, his grip on the paper tightening.
Then—he crumpled it.
And the next thing she knew, he had grabbed his gun from the table, loading it in a single swift motion.
Her stomach dropped.
"What did it say?" she whispered.
Silence.
Agastya’s fingers flexed against the gun, his body practically vibrating with rage.
Then—he turned to her.
His voice was lethal. Final.
"You’re not leaving this house."
Her pulse stilled.
"Agastya, what—"
"Not. A. Word." His voice was pure steel.
Then—he was gone.
The door slammed shut behind him.
And suddenly, she wasn’t just fighting him anymore.
She was fighting a war that had been brewing long before she even entered his life.
And now?
Now, she was at the center of it.
---
The moment Agastya stepped outside, the estate came to life.
Men in black suits rushed to their positions, loading their weapons, preparing for the inevitable bloodshed.
Kabir walked beside him, his expression grim.
"Hukum… if it’s really them—"
Agastya didn’t look at him.
"Then they signed their own death sentence."
His steps were precise, controlled, lethal.
And when he reached the black SUV parked outside—he turned.
His voice was cold. "Where are they?"
Kabir hesitated. "The old warehouse by the docks."
Agastya smirked.
And it wasn’t human.
It was death itself.
"Then let’s remind them who they just fucked with."
And then—they were gone.
Straight into the fire.
---
Anvi sat by the window, her chest tight, her fingers gripping the edge of her saree.
She should have been relieved that he left.
That he was gone.
That she had a moment of peace.
But the truth?
The truth was, she had never been more afraid.
Because Agastya wasn’t just fighting for power.
He was fighting for her.
And that?
That was far more terrifying than any enemy.
Because she knew—he would kill for her.
And this time?
He wouldn’t stop.
---
The warehouse was dark, silent, waiting.
But Agastya?
He wasn’t waiting for anything.
The moment he stepped inside, his gun was already raised, his presence sucking the air from the room.
And when he saw the man waiting for him—
His rage burned through every inch of his skin.
"You really had the fucking nerve." His voice was pure death.
The man—tall, scarred, dressed in all black—smirked.
"Hello, Hukum."
Silence.
And then—Agastya fired the first shot.