Chapter 42
No Escape, No Mercy
Anvi’s breath came in shallow gasps.
She pushed against his chest, but Agastya didn’t budge.
His grip on her wrist tightened, his dark gaze burning into hers.
"Let me go, Agastya!" she hissed.
But he only smirked, his fingers trailing up her arm, brushing against her racing pulse.
"Let you go?" His voice was a low, dangerous whisper.
"That’s never going to happen, jaan."
Her stomach twisted.
She knew it.
She knew this was her fate.
But still—she had to fight.
Had to try.
Even if it was useless.
---
A Reminder of His Power
Anvi swung at him, her palm aiming for his cheek.
But Agastya was faster.
He caught her wrist mid-air, yanking her against his chest.
"Still fighting me, Pari?"
His voice was mocking, amused.
"What will it take for you to understand… you can never win against me?"
She glared up at him, her chest heaving.
"You don’t own me, Agastya."
His smirk vanished.
And in its place?
A storm.
"Say that again."
His grip tightened, his dominance suffocating.
Her throat went dry.
Because she saw it.
The shift in his eyes.
The danger.
The promise.
He wasn’t going to let this go.
He was going to teach her a lesson.
One she would never forget.
---
?? His Pari, His Prisoner
Before she could react, Agastya lifted her in his arms.
Anvi yelped, thrashing, struggling, screaming.
"Let me go! You can’t do this!"
But he ignored her.
His steps were steady, unbothered.
He carried her through the mansion, past the endless hallways—
Straight to his private wing.
Her new prison.
He kicked the door open, stepping inside before slamming it shut with his foot.
And then—he dropped her onto the bed.
She scrambled back, fear and fury raging inside her.
"What the hell are you doing?!"
Agastya stood at the foot of the bed, watching her.
Waiting.
His presence was too much. Too consuming.
And then—
"Until you accept your place, you’re not leaving this room."
Her breath caught.
"You wouldn’t dare."
He smirked.
"Try me, jaan."
And then—he turned, locked the door, and walked away.
Leaving her alone.
Trapped.
In his world. His control. His obsession.
And the worst part?
There was no escape.
___________________________________________
No One Escapes the Devil
Anvi paced the room, her heart pounding.
The heavy wooden door stood before her, a symbol of her imprisonment.
She tried the handle—locked.
Her fingers curled into fists. She had to get out.
Her gaze flickered toward the large window, moonlight streaming in.
Her only way out.
She swallowed hard. It was risky. But she had no choice.
She climbed onto the windowsill, her hands gripping the edge as she swung one leg over.
Just a little more—
Then, a hand gripped her waist.
Hard.
Her body was yanked back before she could even scream.
And then—she crashed into a solid chest.
A familiar scent. A suffocating heat.
Her worst nightmare.
"Going somewhere, jaan?"
Agastya.
---
?? The Devil's Wrath
Anvi thrashed in his grip.
"Let me go!"
But Agastya’s hold was unbreakable.
His jaw clenched, his eyes dark, unreadable.
"You really thought you could run from me?"
Her breath hitched.
Because he wasn’t just angry.
He was furious.
And a furious Agastya Singh Rathore was a danger to the entire world.
Especially to her.
With one swift motion, he threw her onto the bed.
No One Escapes the Devil.
Anvi gasped, her body sinking into the soft mattress as Agastya towered over her, his presence suffocating, dominant, inescapable.
Her pulse thundered as she scrambled back, but he was too fast.
He caged her in, one knee pressing into the bed, his hands on either side of her head.
His dark, furious eyes locked onto hers.
"Did you really think, even for a second, that you could leave me, Pari?
Anvi gasped, her body sinking into the soft mattress as Agastya towered over her, his presence suffocating, dominant, inescapable.
Her pulse thundered as she scrambled back, but he was too fast.
He caged her in, one knee pressing into the bed, his hands on either side of her head.
His dark, furious eyes locked onto hers.
"Did you really think, even for a second, that you could leave me, Pari?"
His voice was low, lethal, dripping with warning.
Anvi’s hands pressed against his chest, trying to push him away, but it was pointless.
He was unshakable. Unstoppable.
"You can't keep me here, Agastya. You have no right—"
His fingers gripped her jaw, tilting her face up.
"No right?" He laughed, a dark, humorless sound.
"I have every right. You are mine, Pari. My wife. My obsession. My madness."
Her stomach twisted, anger and frustration burning inside her.
"You don’t own me."
His smirk vanished.
And then, before she could react—
He flipped her onto her stomach, his hand pressing into the small of her back, keeping her trapped beneath him.
Her breath hitched, heart racing.
"You want to run?" Agastya’s voice was dangerous, velvety.
"Then run, Pari. But remember, I always catch what’s mine."
His lips grazed her ear, his breath hot against her skin.
She shivered.
Because no matter how much she fought, how much she denied the truth—
She was his.
And he wasn’t going to let her forget it.
---
?? The Price of Disobedience
Agastya slowly pulled away, but his hold never left her.
His fingers traced a slow path down her spine, sending shivers through her body.
She clenched her jaw, refusing to let him see how deeply he affected her.
"You think you can defy me, Pari? That you can challenge me?"
His voice wrapped around her like silk and steel.
She didn’t answer.
Didn’t dare to.
Because she knew—she had pushed him too far this time.
Agastya let out a low chuckle, his grip tightening.
"You’ll learn, jaan."
His lips ghosted over her shoulder, his warmth seeping into her skin.
"You’ll learn that no matter how hard you fight me, I will always win."
She swallowed hard, her body betraying her resolve.
Because his touch burned. His presence consumed.
And deep down—
She wasn’t sure she wanted to escape anymore.