Hey sweetheart,
This is my very first chapter, and it means a lot to me. If you enjoy it, please support and share your thoughts. Your love and encouragement will truly keep me going.
Let’s begin the journey together. 💫
Happy reading :)
The morning light barely crept into the small kitchen as Nandini quietly chopped vegetables, her fingers moving slowly, mechanically. Her face looked pale, lips dry, and that spark that once lit her eyes had long faded into numbness.
She had learned how to smile in front of others, how to stay silent in front of her pain. But some wounds don’t hide like the one peeking out from the edge of her sleeve today.
A maid who was helping her with her house chorse came and asked "Madam, aapke haath pe kya hua?" (Madam, what happened to your hand?)
Nandini quickly pulled her sleeve down. "Bas gir gayi thi." (I just fell, that’s all.)
The maid looked at her, concerned but knowing better than to ask more. Everyone in the house knew but nobody spoke. After all, silence is the most loyal servant in rich homes.
As the maid walked away, Nandini exhaled shakily. She turned off the gas, washed her hands, and Nandini picked up the tray of tea and walked back to her room. She placed it neatly on the side table, sat on the edge of her bed, and looked down at her hands.
They were shaking. Just a little.
But she didn't cry.
She hadn’t, in a long time.
Because tears are for those who still hope someone might care.
She didn’t.
And maybe... THAT WAS HER REAL CURSE.
SOMEWHERE IN A HIDDEN WAREHOUSE.........
A man lay on the cold floor, bloodied, barely breathing.
His hands were tied. His face was swollen beyond recognition. His shirt soaked red, the floor beneath him painted in blood.
And standing over him… was Aryanv Malhotra.
Breath heavy. Knuckles bruised. Eyes burning like fire.
He didn’t speak.
He didn’t scream.
He just kept hitting punch after punch, kick after kick until even the walls seemed to shiver with fear.
“Naam bata…”("Tell me the name")
Ruhan’s voice came from the corner, filled with unease.
But the man, through his cracked lips, still said " tum jese chu**."
Aryanv didn’t wait.
Without a second of warning he pulled out his gun and fired a bullet straight into the man’s skull.
BANG.
BANG.
BANG.
Silence.
The lifeless body slumped back eyes wide open in terror never to speak again.
Blood splattered onto Aryanv’s white shirt, soaking it further. But he didn’t care. He stood tall, cold, and unaffected.
Ruhan stared in disbelief. “Aryanv… bas kar… mar gaya woh…”("Aryanv… stop it… he’s dead…")
Aryanv didn't even look at him. He simply walked out of the room, his footsteps heavy, his mind darker than the night around him.
Ruhan quickly followed, concern in his eyes. Ruhan asked him "tune use itni jaldi kyu mara "("Why did you kill him so quickly?") and Aryanv replied " Bahot jada bhok raha tha " ("He was barking too much")
Ruhan noded and aryanv disappeared into his room.He walked into the shower Removing all the clothes .The cold water hit his body, washing away the blood… but not the rage.
His eyes closed, forehead resting against the wall… and then ... His jaw clenched. His fists tightened.
And then… with his eyes closed, she appeared.
That smile.
That soft, carefree laugh the one that used to make his world stop.
Her white dupatta swirling in the breeze… her anklets making the faintest sound… that sparkle in her eyes not just beautiful, dangerous because they made him feel.
Aryanv’s throat tightened.
He slammed a hand against the cold tile wall, letting the water hit his face.
He had buried her deep inside locked her behind iron walls of silence, rage, and blood.
But she came back…
Every single time he closed his eyes.
He shut off the tap and stepped out of the steamy bathroom, towel slung low around his waist. Water trickled down his sculpted chest, but his eyes were empty cold, emotionless. Like always.
Without a word, he threw on his black shirt and grey sweatpant, the top buttons undone. He walked out of the room silently, not caring that Ruhan was still watching him with concern.
Downstairs, the private bar gleamed under the soft golden light. Shelves filled with the finest bottles from across the world stood untouched except one.
He picked the bottle of Glenfiddich his favorite poured it straight, no ice, no water.
Sitting on the tall leather stool, he took a sip.But the burn of whiskey wasn’t enough to kill the fire inside him.
His fingers clutched the glass tighter as he leaned back, head tilted, eyes fixed on the ceiling.
And just like that she appeared in his mind again.
Her laughter.
The way her eyes used to sparkle.
The way she once whispered “Tum jab paas hote ho, sab sahi lagta hai…”
("When you're near, everything feels right…")
His jaw clenched.He grabbed the glass again and downed it in one go.he growled under his breath, voice shaking.
“mujhe naraf he use or uski shakal se !”
("I hate her and her face !")
And then… the glass shattered on the floor as he hurled it across the bar.
His knuckles slammed against the marble counter blood dripping, just like earlier when he beat that man to death.
But this pain this one burned deeper.
He stood still, chest heaving. Breathing heavily.
"Kyu..."
("Why...")
He whispered, barely audible now.
But even in his rage, his heart refused to let go.
Because the truth was he still loved her. More than life. More than revenge. More than anything.
And THAT WAS HIS CURSE.
Hope you enjoyed reading this chapter.
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© 2025 Authorreaa. All Rights Reserved.
No part of this work may be copied, reproduced, or distributed in any form without the author’s prior written permission. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
his work may be copied, reproduced, or distributed in any form without the author’s prior written permission. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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