The Sinister

37.

“Yes, we all are. If we keep quiet and keep bearing his attitude, he will think we are weak” another man shouts back, his voice sharp and fearless. The moment his words echo in the room, silence falls heavily, thick with tension.

The international mafias sit around the large table, their expressions dark and restless.

They have been holding these meetings for the last fifteen days, again and again, trying to find a solution, any way to end Zayran Kaalver and remove him from his position.

But every discussion only leads to more fear, more uncertainty.

“This is the last time I am warning you all, stay away from him and especially from his wife… or else he will do worse to us than what he did to Apex” the earlier man says in a cold, firm voice. His thick Italian accent makes his warning sound even more dangerous.

Without waiting for a response, he grabs his coat and walks out of the meeting room along with his men. The others just sit there, watching him leave. No one dares to stop him.

He is the most feared man in the entire Italy and even he is speaking like this… which only makes things worse for those who still want to go against Zayran.

“I think he is right” another man finally says, his voice low but steady as he slowly stands up from his chair. His eyes, filled with years of experience, reflect caution… and fear.

“He burns the entire Apex without even a slight fear of the consequences he might face. So yes… he can do anything. And we can’t do anything to him.

Because if we had that power, we would have ended him already.

But it has been fifteen days… and not a single soul has even touched one strand of his hair, let alone killing him” he says, his voice filled with warning and slight fear.

His warning lingers in the air as he turns and walks out.

The room falls into a suffocating silence. The tension is so thick it feels hard to breathe. Mafia gangsters, known for their fearlessness, now sit restless, some rubbing their temples, some gulping down BP tablets every day just to calm their rising pressure.

They are men who rule the underworld without fear… yet a single man has snatched away their peace, their control, their everything, without even trying.

“Where is Raze? And who is he?” a man suddenly asks, slamming his hand hard on the table. The loud thud makes everyone flinch slightly. His sharp gaze moves across the room, demanding answers but all he gets are helpless looks as everyone slowly shrugs their shoulders.

“No one knows anything about him… but he is somewhere in the Middle East, living a normal life” a mafia says, taking a slow drag of his cigarette. Smoke escapes his lips as his dangerous eyes remain fixed on Zayran’s picture lying on the table.

“After killing Ethan, he never shows up again. We have to find where he is… so that we can take his help” someone suggests, his tone serious yet desperate. The others exchange looks before slowly nodding their heads, silently agreeing to the only hope they have left.

The entire underworld is shaken badly. News channels all around the world are covering only one topic, Apex and the man who burns it down.

The fear of him is now more dangerous, more terrifying than ever. His enemies are increasing one after another. Everyone is after him, some want to destroy him, while some want to come into his good books for support, power and name.

Loud gunshots and piercing screams echo through the huge hall, filling the air with cries and desperate begging. The atmosphere is suffocating, heavy with pain and fear.

Each and every person present here is the same one who watches his wife getting tortured right in front of their eyes. From Manas to Fernandes, to those girls who dare to kick his wife, everyone is in the room, getting beaten and tortured for the past four hours.

Zayran sits on his chair, leaning back slightly, a cigarette resting between his fingers. Smoke curls around him as his blank eyes stare ahead. He looks distant… as if he is not here at all, as if he is lost in someone’s thoughts.

“Kill them” he says calmly, standing up from his chair.

Hearing his order, his guards look at him in shock. At the same time, all the people being tortured suddenly smile weakly, relief flashing across their tear-stained faces because death feels easier than being tortured by him.

“Boss… but you didn’t do anything with them for the past fifteen days” Grover says, quickly walking behind him, worry clearly visible on his face.

Zayran stops for a second, then slowly turns his face slightly. “Grover… my wife told me last night that she hates violence and torture… and those who do it. And I don’t want her to hate me” he says softly.

He takes out his sunglasses and wears them, hiding whatever emotion flickers in his eyes.

Grover blinks in surprise for a moment… then a proud smile slowly forms on his lips as he nods his head.

“Boss, there is no one like you. You are just perfect… so innocent and kind-hearted” Grover says, his voice full of admiration, making Zayran slowly shake his head.

“Grover, stop… I am not that good” he says quietly, his tone low. Without saying anything more, he sits inside. Grover quickly moves to the driver’s seat, starting the car. The engine roars softly as the car moves out of Zayran’s hidden place, smoothly heading toward the mansion.

—

“He really thinks he will survive after messing with us” a man in black clothes and a covered face says, his eyes fixed on Zayran’s car from a distance as it moves on the highway.

“Now everyone will see what the consequences of messing with international mafias are” another one says coldly, lifting a remote in his hand.

A wide, dangerous smirk slowly spreads across their faces as the car comes closer… closer… right into their trap.

And in the next second, they press the button.

A deafening blast shakes the air. Zayran’s car explodes violently, flames bursting out instantly, swallowing everything in seconds.

The fire spreads fast, burning without mercy. Two lifeless bodies are thrown out of the car but not whole… only parts of their bodies scatter on the road, creating a horrifying sight.

Within moments, everything is destroyed… everything is over.

Zayran’s men rush out of their cars, panic and shock written all over their faces as they try to control the situation. But deep inside, they already know… it is the end.

The news of Zayran being dead in the blast spreads faster than anything, reaching his enemies within seconds.

Zayran’s watch lies carelessly on the ground, still wrapped around a hand… a hand that is now separated from his body.

I type frustratedly on the laptop, my fingers moving fast over the keyboard as my file finally comes to an end. My foot taps impatiently against the floor while I wait for it to save.

The moment it gets saved, I quickly close the laptop and push the chair back, standing up from the table.

“Ahh, Kanha… I’m tired” I whisper softly, my voice weak as I walk toward the bed and fall on it with a tired thud.

“Where is he…” I murmur to myself, staring blankly outside the window. It is already night. A strange pain settles in my chest, making me uneasy.

My injuries are healing, everything is fine now… but since noon, something feels wrong. I don’t know why… but my heart feels restless.

“Bhabhi!” the sudden voice of Shaurya and the others pulls me out of my thoughts. I quickly sit up and walk toward the door, opening it.

My eyes narrow the moment I see their faces… tense, pale and filled with fear.

“Bhabhi… bhai’s car… blast…” Yuv starts speaking, his voice shaking. The moment those words leave his mouth, I freeze completely.

Everything inside me stops.

I try to process his words… try to understand what he just said… but my mind goes blank. My body turns cold, stiff, lifeless. Kanha.

“Let’s go, bhabhi” Ishi says softly, holding my hand tightly. Before I even realize it, my feet start moving with them downstairs. My vision blurs slightly and my hands slowly curl into tight fists.

Shaurya quickly starts the car and everyone rushes to sit inside. Just as I am about to get in, someone suddenly pulls me back.

“Kahan jaa rahi hai aap?” his voice reaches my ears and my head instantly shoots up toward him.

(Where are you going?)

He stands right in front of me…completely fine. Not even a single scratch. My eyes slowly move from his head to his toe, checking him again and again, as if I don’t trust what I am seeing. My heart, which almost stops after hearing about the blast, now starts beating wildly, unable to calm down.

“Aap thik hai?” I ask, my voice trembling as the words somehow come out of my mouth.

(Are you fine?)

“Hume kya hoga?” he asks, leaning slightly closer to me. I blink my eyes, still in shock and then suddenly turn my head toward the four of them.

Their eyes are wide open, fear clearly visible on their faces. A glare forms in my eyes as my emotions burst out uncontrollably, my heart still racing.

“You all were lying!” I shout, walking toward them and glaring hard.

“No, bhabhi, we were not. Bhai… your car blasted, right?” Om asks him, fear evident in his voice. I immediately turn my head back toward him again.

“That was not my car” he says calmly.

I slowly turn my head toward my bandars, my anger rising again. Rolling up my sleeves, I glare at them, ready to attack.

“I was so scared that something happened to him and you all…” I start speaking, taking steps toward them but they immediately turn and start running.

I run after them in anger, my heartbeat still uneven, my emotions all over the place. But again… he suddenly pulls me back.

My eyes widen in shock and my heart skips a beat. I look up at him…straight into his eyes. And he is smiling… looking at me.

“Hamari biwi ko hamari fikr hoti hai?” he asks, taking a slow step toward me.

(Does my wife worry about me?)

I instinctively take a step back until my back softly hits the car. I just stare into his eyes, unable to say anything. My heart is thudding so fast, almost out of control and my hands turn cold because of the way he is looking at me… and that soft smile on his lips.

“Aapne yeh bandha hai na… hume kuch nahi hoga” he says slowly, lifting his wrist between us. My eyes fall on the thread I tied around his wrist.

(You tied this, right… nothing will happen to me)

I blink my eyes, trying to process his words. D…did he really believe in that thread? My breath gets uneven for a moment. A cold breeze suddenly hits our faces, making me shiver slightly.

The moment he notices it, he instantly steps back, creating distance between us.

“Chaliye” he says, gesturing with his hand.

(Let’s go)

Without thinking twice, I turn and start walking inside the mansion. I can feel his presence behind me, his footsteps following mine.

Kanha… ya to mujhe sir par chot lagi hai ya inko bullet ka asar kandhe me nahi dimag mein ho gaya hai. Kaise bahki bahki baatein karte hain…, I think, gulping hard.

(Kanha… either I got hit on my head, or the effect of the bullet moved from his shoulder to his brain. What kind of weird things he says…)

“Naa, bahki bahki baatein nahi… uski baatein tujhe bahkati hain, aisa bol” my subconscious interrupts, making me want to hide my face somewhere in embarrassment.

(No, they are not weird things… say that his words make you lose control)

Paraye baad mein… pehle yeh subconscious mera beda gark karega, I mutter internally, feeling flustered.

(Forget others… first, he will ruin me)

I walk into the room and move toward the bed, sitting down quickly. I grab my phone, trying to distract myself because he is affecting me too much from the time…

“Jab se tum dono saath mein golu golu… I mean sone lage hoooo” my subconscious cuts in again, making me take a deep breath, closing my eyes for a second.

(Since you both started sleeping together closely…)

He walks inside the room just then, closing the door behind him and without looking at me, he directly walks into the closet to change.

“Kanhaaa…” I cry out in relief, my voice shaking because I was so scared just a few minutes ago. But thank God… nothing happens to him.

Only I know how I fought with my mind and my heart for the last fifteen days, forcing myself to stay happy, to ignore everything. And if something happens tod....no… no… think positive, Sita. Nothing will happen to him.

I quickly open the news to see what exactly happens and the recording of his car getting blasted is right there on the screen, with headlines declaring him dead. My breath gets stuck for a second. Anger rises inside me and I immediately throw the phone aside.

“Sare ke sare pagal hai yahan, mujhe chhod kar. Matlab kuch bhi news daal dete hain. Sari duniya mere darinde ke peeche padi hai…” I mumble in frustration, running my fingers through my hair.

(Everyone here is mad, leaving me alone. They just post any kind of news. The whole world is after my monster…)

“Aur tera darinda tere peeche” my subconscious interrupts again, making my eyes widen slightly.

(And your monster is after you)

I immediately sit down in a yoga position, closing my eyes, trying to calm my anger before it explodes. Kisi ka murder na ho jaye aaj mujhse…, I mutter under my breath.

(I hope I don’t end up killing someone today…)

“Ek to mere is aadmi ne mere dil ke saath pata nahi kya kar diya hai aur mera subconscious mere dimaag ka dahi karne mein laga hai. Kanhaaaaa… aap dekh rahe ho na mera struggle?” I complain, looking up toward the sky from the balcony, almost on the verge of losing my patience.

(First, this man has done something to my heart and my subconscious is busy messing with my mind. Kanha… you are seeing my struggle, right?)

“Main kya dekhu, sakhi… main khud makkhan nahi chura paa raha hoon” Kanha replies dramatically, sounding even more helpless than me.

(What should I see, friend… I myself am unable to steal butter)

I blink my eyes, staring blankly ahead.

“Kabhi kabhi to lagta hai museebat mein aap nahi… aap hi museebat ho” I say, narrowing my eyes at him as he sulks, glaring back at me.

(Sometimes it feels like you are not in trouble… you yourself are the trouble)

“Waise hi jaise tumhare dil mein tumhara pati nahi, balki tumhare pati mein hi tumhara dil hai” he says and I blink my eyes, trying to understand what he actually means.

(Just like your husband is not in your heart but your heart is inside your husband)

“Kanha, aap jao aur makkhan khao… aapka dimaag kaam karna band kar raha hai” I say, lying down on the bed not even trying to do yoga because yoga se mera kuch nahi hoga.

(Kanha, you go and eat butter… your brain has stopped working)

“Bol bhi kam raha hai” my subconscious adds and I close my eyes tightly.

(Look who is speaking)

“Sita, jaane do in nadano ko” I mutter to myself, trying to calm down.

(Sita, let these foolish ones be)

The closet door opens and I quickly sit up straight, fixing my hair slightly like a proper aurat. Main kisi ko impress nahi kar rahi, sachchi.

(I am not trying to impress anyone, trust me)

He walks out of the closet in black track pants and… and nothing else. My eyes instantly fix on his abs, his body looking so divine that my breathe stuck in my nose. I… he is my husband. I am lucky… no, the luckiest.

He walks toward the couch, picking up something and as he turns around, my breath gets stuck in my throat now.

His tattoo. His shoulders are so broad and…

so strong. So scary, yet so perfect. And his waist…

My mind suddenly runs ahead, into a future where…

where we will do that… and his back will move s. ...

“Shut the hell up, Sita!” I scold myself the moment I realize what the hell I am thinking.

The door closes and I shake my head violently, hitting my face again and again lightly with my hands. My cheeks turn red in embarrassment.

I quickly get up from the bed and start walking here and there in the room, taking deep breaths to calm myself down.

“Sita, tu gandi ladki hai…” I mumble under my breath, covering my face in pure embarrassment.

(Sita, you are a bad girl…)

I stop walking and sit down on the bed like before, dropping myself with a small sigh. Because aura ka pakora itni baar kar chuki hoon ki ab pakora bhi jal kar raakh ho gaya hai mera.

He walks out of the closet and I quickly pretend to look into my phone, trying to act normal. He walks toward the bed and sits down beside me while dialing someone’s number.

He is wearing a banyan and his biceps are clearly on display… of course, only for me.

“Daant kaat lu kya…” I think, staring at his perfect biceps for a second longer than I should.

(Should I just bite them…)

A knock on the door breaks my gandi nazar and I quickly turn my head toward the door. My bandars walk inside the room. I glare at them sharply and then turn my face away, still annoyed.

“Bhabhi, we are sorry… and trust us, we… not only us, everyone thought that your husband...phew…” Shaurya says, trying to explain but I look at him with a completely traumatized expression.

“Stop spending time with them” I say, pointing toward the other three. They instantly give me puppy eyes, making innocent faces.

“Bhabhi but aapke pati ka kaam hi aisa hai, kab tapa....” Yuv starts speaking but I suddenly turn toward him, cutting him off.

“Gun dijiye aapki” I say, extending my hand toward him without hesitation.

(Give me your gun)

He doesn’t waste even a second and places the gun in my hand. I turn toward them slowly, holding the gun and all of them freeze in their places. Their eyes widen and their chins start wobbling in fear as they stare at me.

“Aapse yeh umeed nahi thi hume…” Ishi says, her voice full of fake hurt as she slowly walks behind Om, hiding herself carefully.

(We didn’t expect this from you…)

“Aapko maine is ghar ke har raaz bataye… aur aap mujhe goli maarogi?” Om says dramatically, then quickly walks behind Yuv, hiding along with Ishi behind him.

(I told you every secret of this house… and you will shoot me?)

“Bhabhi, maine woh saare kaam kiye jo kisi ne nahi kiye aapke liye… aur aap mujhe goli maarogi?” Yuv says, placing a hand on his chest as if deeply hurt, then quickly runs behind Shaurya, dragging the other two with him.

(Bhabhi, I did things for you that no one else did… and you will shoot me?)

“Bhabhi, koi vidhwa ho jayegi shaadi se pehle hi agar main mar gaya toh…” Shaurya says dramatically, making a sad face.

(Bhabhi, someone will become a widow even before marriage if I die…)

I take a deep breath, my patience running out and point the gun toward them more firmly not listening to their manipulative talks anymore.

“Move your hand here” my husband says slowly from behind me, his voice calm. He gently lifts my hand a little higher.

“Perfect… now in one shot, all four of them will die in a few seconds” he says casually, as my gun now points straight at the center of their hearts.

A smirk slowly appears on my face as I look at all four of them standing together, frozen in fear.

“Hum nahi khel rahe aapke saath, jao aap. Aap apne pati se bhi mili rehti ho aur humare saath milkar unhe marne ka bhi plan banati ho!” they all shout together while sulking before quickly running out of the room in a hurry.

(We are not playing with you, go away. You stay with your husband and also plan to kill him with us!)

My eyes widen slightly as I freeze in my spot, still holding the gun. Agli baar itna nahi sochungi… seedha goli maar dungi in sab ko.

(Next time I won’t think this much… I will just shoot them directly)

“Nigaahein idhar kijiye” his deep, husky voice comes from right behind me, sending a sudden shiver down my spine.

(Look here)

For a second, I wonder… should I just shoot myself? My breath gets uneven. Slowly, I turn my head toward him. He is looking at me with a blank face, the same blank face he has when he marries me. Fear rushes through me instantly and my grip on the gun tightens.

“Hume marengi aap?” he asks softly, tilting his head slightly.

(You'll kill me?)

Without thinking, I quickly shake my head. My hair falls over my face as I move and for a moment, I notice his eyes… they change, black to slightly shiny… and then back to black again.

He suddenly moves away and sits in his place, his face turning blank again. But his breathing is heavy… I can clearly see that. Something is wrong. What happens to him suddenly?

I slowly extend my hand toward him, offering the gun back.

“Aapki hai yeh” he says softly.

(This is yours)

“Suchhi?” I ask, taking the gun back again with a small, happy smile.

(Really?)

I look at the gun with admiration. It looks small… but so beautiful. Its black color is so perfect, so elegant. As I admire the gun… someone is silently admiring me.

“Hamari jaan lene ke liye aapki khuli zulfein aur muskaan hi kaafi hai…” he murmurs under his breath but I don’t hear it properly.

(To take my life, your open hair and your smile are enough…)

“Ji?” I ask, looking at him in confusion.

He simply shakes his head. I keep looking at him for a second… feeling something strange in my chest.

“That car was yours… and the blast?” I ask slowly, my voice low as I look at him. He lifts his gaze from his phone and looks at me.

“Someone plants a bomb in my car. And I do sit inside the same car… but I change it while moving from the forest and come on a bike with Grover, so nothing happens to me” he explains calmly, his tone steady, as if it is nothing serious.

“Then who dies?” I ask, confusion filling my voice because someone clearly dies in that car.

“Manas and his father” he replies simply.

I blink my eyes, trying to understand his words… his plans… his tricks. Everything about him feels so complicated.

Tere paas itna dimaag hai? Nahi nahi… tu bata, tere paas itna dimaag hai ki tu apne pati ko samajh sake? my subconscious teases, making me gulp nervously and look away from him.

(Do you even have that much brain? No no… tell me, do you have enough brain to understand your husband?)

“I don’t have a gun license” I say, placing the gun carefully inside the drawer.

“Kal mil jayega aapko” he replies casually, placing his phone aside before lying down on the bed, covering himself halfway.

(You will get it tomorrow)

I also lie down beside him and switch off the lights. It has become our daily routine for the past few days. He sleeps early every day… and I… I do this only when he falls completely asleep.

I move closer to him the moment I feel he is in a deep sleep. I place my head right beside him not touching him… but still so close. His manly scent always calms my mind and my heart. A soft smile appears on my face as I quietly admire him.

“When will you say you like me… so that I can hug you while sleeping?” I think. He doesn’t hug me after that day. And I… I somewhere crave to be in his arms like crazy.

He is a perfect husband… but he doesn’t show it with words. He is the living example that actions speak louder than words.

I’m falling for my husband… ufff. I look at him with a small smile, my eyes filled with something new, something deep.

Unaware… I am not just falling. All of this is planned by him… every moment, every step. And I am falling for him because he wants me to fall for him… so that he can……