11. Trapped
DHWANI RATHORE
I didn’t lose my voice, I gave it away to survive. Because sometimes, survival demands silence...
Dhwani Rathore — a girl who’s been silent for years, not because I wanted to be, but because this world never deserved my voice.
Time passes, but the wounds stay fresh, reminding us to never let our scars forget the story of what broke us and what we became after it.
And right now, what I’m doing is called betrayal, a huge betrayal that if he finds out, he’ll kill me with his bare hands.
Yugant Raizaada — stubborn, annoyingly dumb, and my brother’s best friend. He’s trying to find my brother with the intention of killing him himself. But how do I tell him that the man he’s searching for has already been dying a thousand deaths every single day?
How do I tell him that I’m not Samarth Rathore’s girlfriend, but his sister - a sister who doesn’t even know where her brother is anymore?
How do I tell him that he didn’t bring me here on his own… he brought me here because I wanted him to. Every move he made wasn’t his choice , it was my plan.
He thinks his destination to reach Samarth Rathore is me.
But he doesn’t know, my destination to reach my brother is him, Yugant Raizaada, and the designs he’s about to showcase at the Grand Aurum Exhibition Gala.
It’s Yugant Raizaada’s biggest dream, the dream that’s finally returning to the Raizaadas after five long years.
Because the last time, their designs were stolen at the very last moment.
Years of his family’s hard work went down the drain, and the legacy they built with blood and sleepless nights turned to dust.
And sorrowfully… it's going to happen again.
Not because I seek revenge.
Not because I crave power.
But because those designs are my only way to reach my brother — Samarth Rathogav
He promised me that if I handed him those designs, he would tell me where my brother is.
It’s been years since I last saw him. My heart clenches; my eyes burn just thinking of him.
He was all I had, my protector, my shadow, my home. He carried my pain like it was his own, and I… I only ever gave him more.
This time, I won’t let this chance slip from my hands, even if it means betraying him.
“Ma’am, we’ve arrived,” the driver said as the cab stopped a few distance away from the Raizaada mansion.
I exhaled, stepped out, and slipped through the back entrance. I went straight to my room.
I had to burn this dress before he returned.
In the bathroom I peeled it off and dropped it in the bin, then lit it with my lighter.
I couldn’t let him suspect I was pretending, even the smallest hint would ruin everything.
After so much work to get into his office, I couldn’t afford a single mistake.
After destroying every trace of tonight, I stepped into the shower, letting the cool water wash away the chaos clinging to me.
Staying here feels like living in a lion’s den… while stealing his prey right from under his nose.
Wrapping the bathrobe around me, I walked to the basin and grabbed my moisturizer. My gaze caught on the mirror—on me.
And suddenly, the memory flashed again—the moment we fell… and our lips accidentally met.
That infuriating man. He bit my lip, leaving his damn mark on me.
I touched the faint bruise and hissed.
“Unbelievable,” I muttered under my breath. “Of all people, that older asshole had to ruin my first kiss.”
To be honest, that man has way too much patience.
If it were anyone else, I swear they would’ve thrown me out by now for acting this dumb and clumsy.But no, Mr. Older Raizaada just stood there, watching, like he’s made of stone or something.
How the hell did he even stand there silently while I turned his kitchen into a battlefield?
I literally blew up his stove, messed with poor eggs like a maniac, and he still didn’t say a word.
It was hard, okay? I thought he’d stop me, shout, scold, something.
But no. He just stood there with that calm, infuriating face of his, like, “Go on, kid, make a disaster.”
He’s a real pain in ass, a total grandpa material.
And I swear, I had to blast that damn kitchen just to make sure he never sends me in there again.
Thankfully, mission accomplished. He hasn’t dared to say “cook” since.
I still laugh thinking about all the nonsense I did just to make him believe I’m dumb, clumsy, and hopelessly innocent.
If he ever got a glimpse of the real Dhwani Rathore… I swear, the mighty Mr. Raizaada might just faint on the spot.
Yes! He'll know me someday. Just not yet. Not until I become Mr. India with those designs.
But what then, Dhwani? my inner voice snapped.
After that?
I’ll find my brother. We’ll go back to the way things were. That’s it. Simple.
But will Mr. Oldie Raizaada let you live in peace? My inner voice asked again.
I blinked while looking at myself in the mirror.
He thinks my bhai destroyed his family, but how do I tell him that Samarth Rathore didn’t kill anyone? He’s been missing for years, how could he suddenly show up, murder a family, and vanish again?
It’s impossible. I can’t buy it.
So does that mean nothing ends after I steal the designs? Even if I find my brother, will Mr. Oldie come after us anyway? He brought me here to find bhai, but what if, when he learns I took those designs, he punishes bhai for a crime he never committed? Anything could happen.
I sighed, the sound small in the quiet room.
Not everything’s in my hands. I know that. But one thing is. I won’t let anything happen to my brother. I’ve got plans. Better ones. Plans that will keep Samarth safe, even if I have to burn down the world to do it or myself.
I stepped out of the bathroom. The lights in the room were off.
Off?
How?
They were on when I went in.
I walked toward the bed, reaching to switch on the side lamp. My fingers touched the switch, the light turned on but suddenly someone grabbed my wrist and shoved me backward. My back hit the mattress hard, a sharp pain shooting up my spine. I bit my lip to stop the sound that threatened to escape.
I wanted to scream but I didn’t.
I’ve learned silence too well. My voice has been caged for years.
No one knows I can talk.
Not even bhai.
And no one ever will… not until I decide.
I opened my eyes and froze.
Mr. Oldie Raizaada’s bloodshot eyes stared right back at me. The heavy scent of alcohol filled the air, I turned my face away in disgust.
Why does he have to be so… ugh!
Relax, Dhwani. Relax.
He stumbled closer, his breath hot against my neck, and lips brushed there.
I froze, every muscle ready to strike.
I swear, this man has a death wish.
If he keeps testing my limits like this, he loves to get kicked between his legs. Because yes. I was going to do it again.
One.
Two.
Three.
I pulled my leg to kick him, but he tangled my ankle with his and held on.
He smelled like liquor and stale smoke. His words came out slow and sticky, the way drunk men speak when they think they’re charming. “Y’know,” he slurred, voice thick, “you’re so… cute.”
He reached up, snagged my chin, forcing my eyes to meet his. His fingers were rough; his breath was hot against my jaw as he pressed his lips there. My heart did a sprint. I could feel every beat in my throat.
“You tryin’ to stop the next Raizaada cutie?” he mumbled, words spilling with a careless grin. “I won’t let that happen.” I tasted bile and anger both.
I pressed my lips together, gritting my teeth internally. This man was absolutely unbearable.
He staggered a little closer, squinting at me like he’d just discovered something fascinating. “You know,” he slurred, blinking twice, “your hair… they look like….like cotton candy. Which shampoo you use, huh?”
I kept looking at him like always, blinking. He leaned forward again, still mumbling nonsense.
“I bet it’s that fancy one, the one with pink flowers on the bottle, right?” he asked with the seriousness of someone discussing world peace.
I pushed at his chest with my hands, gently, trying to make some distance but my shoves didn’t even move him an inch.
He laughed, that ridiculous, tipsy laugh of his. “That’s it? That’s your attack? I’ve seen kittens fight harder.”
Don't test me, just don't.
I rolled my eyes pretending to agree with whatever gibberish he was saying. Inside, I was one step away from smacking him with the nearest vase.
“Ohh wait…” he blinked, trying to focus, but his eyelids kept fluttering like he couldn’t see straight. Then, out of nowhere, he pressed his finger against my lower lip.
Oh, crap.
He might’ve seen that damn mark, the one he left when he bit me.
“You kissed someone?” he slurred, his hazy eyes meeting mine. I kept blinking, completely blank, wondering how the hell to respond.
“Ohh wait…” he said again, laughing softly, “you don’t even know how to kiss, right? You’re innocent.”
He chuckled, pulling a weird face. “I didn’t know either… but I kissed her. She was… someone—looked beautiful—and I thought it was you.”
He paused, frowning drunkenly. “But that vile woman… she kicked my future generation and ran away.”
You didn’t know how to kiss? Seriously? Bloody liar. Lying right to my face, the bastard literally made my lip bleed, and now he says he didn’t know how to kiss.
“You’re so innocent… I’m glad you’re not vile,” he mumbled, his finger brushing my cheek.
“You’re the best, my cute mute ghost,” he slurred, smiling like an idiot. “I know you sometimes haunt me at night, but it’s okay.”
He leaned closer, his breath warm against my skin. I gulped hard.
Please, God… save me tonight. I promise I’ll start locking the door from tomorrow. Just… help me survive this man-child once.
"Oh… it’s hurting…" He curled his legs and lay down beside me. I tried to slip away. I just wanted to run from here — but he grabbed my arm, pulling me close.
"Where are you going?" he asked, making a sad face. I shook my head, forcing a smile.
He pulled me closer, placing my head on his bicep. I exhaled, because I knew this was going to be tough.
"You know where she kicked me?" he asked.
Yes, I knew.
I shook my head anyway.
"She kicked me here," he said, pointing at the spot. I closed my eyes already regretting kicking him.
Please, God… please save me.
"Wait, let me show you…" he said suddenly, sitting up. He removed his overcoat first, then rolled up his sleeves.
Oh God, what the hell is he trying to do?
His hands moved toward his belt.
My eyes widened. Nooooo!
I caught his hands, forcing another smile. I wanted to push him away, but instead, I leaned closer and wrapped my arms around his neck. I rubbed my eyes, pretending to be sleepy.
"Aww… my baby is sleepy? Come, let’s sleep," he murmured, lying back down and pulling me into his arms.
I sighed. Please, just sleep… please, I prayed silently to God.
His hold tightened around me. “You’re so soft… as if I’m holding a cloud wrapped in warmth,” he murmured.
I stayed still, saying nothing, because I knew if I did, he’d only take it as an invitation to do something else.
A few minutes passed. I didn’t hear him speak, maybe he’d finally fallen asleep; I could feel his hot breath on my neck, his face buried there. I looked up. His eyes were closed.
Thank God.
I licked my lips and moved to slip free, touching his hand to pry it off, but his grip only tightened.
I should’ve kicked him hard and sent him to the hospital so he’d only wake up after the Grand Aurum Gala. Then I wouldn’t be stuck in this whole mess.
After hundreds of failed attempts to slip from his hold, I finally gave up. Resting my head on his chest, I closed my eyes bcz I understood it was impossible to escape.
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