Chapter 26
The air felt wrong.
Heavy. Suffocating.
Anvi woke up in the darkness, her skin still burning from Agastya’s touch, her body aching in ways she refused to acknowledge.
Her mind screamed at her to fight.
But the truth?
She had already lost.
Because no matter how much she hated him—she had let him ruin her again.
And now?
Now, she could never take it back.
Her breath came out uneven, her hands gripping the silk bedsheet beneath her.
Then—she heard it.
A soft click.
The sound of an envelope sliding under the door.
Her chest tightened.
Her fingers trembled as she reached for it.
She didn’t know why.
Didn’t know how.
But something in her already knew…
This was a warning.
And it wasn’t just for Agastya.
It was for her.
---
Her fingers shook as she tore open the envelope.
A single piece of black paper fell onto the bed.
The moment her eyes landed on the words—her blood ran cold.
"Tell your husband to enjoy his time with you while he still can. You were mine before you were ever his."
Her breath hitched.
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
And then—her fingers curled around the letter, crushing it in her grip.
Mine before you were his.
Who?
Who was he?
Her mind raced, her vision blurring, memories she had buried clawing their way to the surface.
This wasn’t just about her marriage.
This wasn’t just about Agastya’s obsession.
This was about something older.
Something she had forgotten.
Or maybe—something she had been forced to forget.
The room felt too small.
The walls too close.
And before she could think, before she could stop herself—she ran.
---
Anvi stormed through the hallways of the mansion, her bare feet silent against the cold marble floor.
She didn’t stop.
Didn’t breathe.
Didn’t think.
Until she found him.
Agastya.
He stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows of his study, a whiskey glass in his hand, his white shirt slightly undone, his entire body radiating power and control.
But the moment she entered the room—
His gaze snapped to hers.
And he knew.
She saw it in his eyes.
He already knew.
And that?
That shattered the last bit of her restraint.
She threw the letter onto his desk.
"Who is he?"
His jaw tightened.
He lifted the paper, his eyes tracing the words slowly.
And then—he laughed.
Low. Dark. Unhinged.
"I was wondering when he’d crawl out of his hole."
Her stomach twisted.
"You knew." Her voice shook with rage.
He placed the glass down, watching her with those unreadable, dark eyes.
"Of course, I knew."
Her breath hitched.
"And you didn’t think to tell me?"
A muscle in his jaw ticked.
Then—he moved.
Too fast.
Before she could react, his hand wrapped around her throat, pressing her back against the desk, his grip tight—possessive, unrelenting.
Her pulse pounded against his fingers.
His lips brushed against her ear.
"Why? So you could run to him?"
Her stomach dropped.
"I don’t even know who he is!"
His grip tightened.
"But he knows you." His voice was low, borderline lethal.
His other hand slid to her waist, his fingers pressing into her skin, claiming her all over again.
"And I don’t share, Pari."
Her breath shook.
Her body betrayed her.
Because as much as she hated him—the way he caged her in, the way his breath brushed against her lips—
It burned.
It ruined her.
And he knew it.
His fingers traced her jaw, tilting her face up.
"No one touches what’s mine."
Her stomach twisted painfully.
Because for the first time—she wasn’t sure if he was promising to protect her.
Or if he was promising to destroy her first.
---
Later that night, Anvi sat in front of her mother’s old trunk.
She hadn’t touched it in years.
Hadn’t dared to open it.
Because the memories inside?
They were things she had spent her life trying to forget.
But now?
Now, she needed to remember.
Her fingers trembled as she lifted the lid.
And the moment she did—her breath caught.
Old letters.
Photographs.
Memories of a past she barely remembered.
And then—her eyes landed on a name.
A name scribbled on the back of a photo.
Her chest tightened painfully.
Because suddenly, she knew.
She knew who the man threatening her was.
She knew why Agastya had kept it a secret.
Because this wasn’t just a stranger.
This wasn’t just an enemy.
This was a ghost from her childhood.
A man who had once promised to marry her.
A man who had sworn she would be his.
And now?
Now, he was back.
To take what he thought belonged to him.
And Agastya?
He would never allow it.
Even if it meant burning the entire world down.
---
Anvi’s fingers trembled as she traced the name on the back of the photograph.
Veer.
The man who had once promised to marry her.
The man she had forgotten.
The man who now wanted her back.
Her breath shook.
She had spent so much time hating Agastya.
Blaming him for stealing her freedom, for taking her without a choice.
But what if she had always belonged to someone else?
What if Agastya hadn’t just taken her—but stolen her from another monster?
Her stomach twisted painfully.
Because this wasn’t just about her anymore.
This was about a war that had started long before she ever knew she was a pawn.
And now?
Now, she was right in the center of it.
---
The door slammed open.
Her breath caught.
And then—he was there.
Agastya.
His black shirt was unbuttoned at the top, his sleeves rolled up, his hair slightly tousled—like he had just come from another fight.
But it wasn’t the bloodstains on his hands that made her stomach drop.
It was the way he looked at her.
Like he already knew.
Like he had already decided her fate.
His jaw clenched.
"You found it."
Not a question.
A statement.
Her fingers curled around the photo.
She lifted her chin. "Why didn’t you tell me?"
A muscle in his jaw ticked.
And then—he moved.
Too fast.
Before she could step back, his hand wrapped around her waist, pulling her against his chest, his other hand gripping the back of her neck.
His breath was hot against her skin.
"Because it doesn’t matter."
Her chest heaved.
"He wants me."
His grip tightened.
"And?" His voice was calm. Too calm.
"He thinks I belong to him."
Agastya let out a low, dark laugh.
"Then let’s remind him who you really belong to, hmm?"
Her stomach flipped.
Because the look in his eyes—the raw, possessive hunger—
It wasn’t just obsession anymore.
It was something much, much worse.
---
"You knew about him all along." Her voice shook with rage.
His lips brushed against her ear.
"Yes."
Her breath caught.
"And you still married me."
His smirk deepened.
"Because I don’t share, Pari."
Her heart pounded.
"You stole me."
His fingers trailed down her spine, slow, deliberate.
"No, jaan."
His grip tightened.
"I saved you."
Her chest tightened.
Because the worst part?
She didn’t know if he was lying.
Or if he was the only thing keeping her from a far worse fate.
---
The next morning, the entire estate was on lockdown.
Agastya’s men stood guard at every entrance.
The air was thick with tension, with an unspoken war.
And then—it happened.
The sound of tires screeching.
The loud slam of car doors.
And then—a voice she didn’t recognize.
"Hukum! It’s time we talked."
Anvi’s blood ran cold.
She turned toward Agastya.
He was already on his feet, his expression unreadable, his jaw locked.
But his eyes?
His eyes burned with murder.
He turned to her, his voice low, sharp.
"Stay here."
And then—he was gone.
Off to face the man who had come to take what was his.
And Anvi?
Anvi was about to find out just how far Agastya would go to keep her.