I was sitting in my cabin, absentmindedly twirling a pen between my fingers, a devilish smirk dancing on my lips. The high-backed chair creaked slightly as I leaned into it, eyes locked on the framed photo of Vihaan sitting proudly on my desk. His sharp jawline, that unreadable expression—God, that man could ruin me with just a glance.

I chuckled to myself.

That little stunt I pulled? Oh, I know exactly what it’ll do to him. He must be fuming by now—confused, spiraling, possessive. Just how I like him.

I don't want to break Vihaan. No, no. I want to ignite that obsessive fire inside him until he’s consumed.

Until he realizes he can’t breathe without me.

Until he knows no one else gets to touch me.

My thoughts were rudely interrupted when Grayson barged in without knocking—again.

"Have you heard of a thing called knocking?" I asked, still not sparing him a glance.

My eyes were glued to Vihaan's photo like it was a holy relic. I mean, how can I look at anyone else when my man is right here? Not in the flesh, sure, but this picture?

It fuels my delusions quite beautifully.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Grayson snapped, walking further in like he owned the place.

I sighed dramatically. "Owww. Lower your voice. My poor ears are too precious for your barking."

He scoffed, "Here you are, talking to his photo like a love-sick teenager, and now, out of nowhere, you're marrying his brother?"

I finally lifted my eyes to meet his. "Do you think Vihaan is a fool?"

"What the hell are you even talking about?"

I stood, walked toward him slowly, my heels clicking against the marble floor like an omen.

"Do you really think, Grayson, that if I sent Vihaan a marriage proposal, he’d say yes just like that?"

His silence spoke volumes.

"Let’s not forget, he has a fiancée,” I spat the word like poison.

“And that woman—ugh—she would never let me have him without a fight.”

"That still doesn’t mean you go and marry his brother, Vanya."

I sighed and sat back down, resting my elbow on the armrest and my chin on my knuckles. "You don’t get it. Vihaan’s been through hell—he hides it well, but it’s there. Deep. Rotten. Ugly. If I forced him into anything, he’d hate me forever. And Grayson…" I looked up at him, my voice almost a whisper. “That’s my worst nightmare.”

The air in the room changed.

Grayson's voice was softer now. “But... why him?”

A smile crept up on my face as my fingers reached for Vihaan’s frame. I gently traced the line of his jaw, the curve of his lips. My heart clenched.

“Because he suffered… just like me. The only difference is—I became the monster everyone fears. But he? He became the protector he once wished someone had been for him.”

I looked at Grayson again, my voice firmer. “He shields others from the same darkness that devoured him.”

Grayson gave a low chuckle. “You know a lot about him.”

“I’ve been stalking him for six years,” I said with a casual shrug. “Of course, I know him better than he knows himself.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re insane.”

“I know.”

He groaned. “So what now, psycho bride?”

“I want our wedding outfits in currant red.”

“Currant re—what? Is that an animal?”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s a shade, you uncultured swine. A deep, rich red. It’s his favorite.”

Grayson scribbled something in his notepad, muttering under his breath. “Fine. I’ll inform the designer.”

“And the wedding rings should be gold.”

He blinked. “But you prefer diamonds.”

“This isn’t about what I want. It’s always been about him. Vihaan prefers gold.”

I leaned back again, satisfied.

“Understood?”

Grayson nodded, visibly amused. “Got it. Just... please tell me you’re not planning to kidnap him or marry him at gunpoint.”

I tilted my head, letting a slow, sinister smirk curl across my lips. “Of course not.”

Relief crossed his face.

“I’m going to kill his brother,” I added calmly.

“Then marry him.”

Brayan choked on air. “You’re serious?”

I ignored him and returned to my files.

A soft chime went off from my phone. I picked it up.

Ah—not a call. Just one of my alarms. Juice time.

Without needing further instruction, Grayson disappeared and returned moments later with a tall glass of beetroot juice. Disgusting, vile stuff—but beauty is war. And I fight mine for perfect skin.

I sipped it, my face contorting with every gulp.

“You know this tastes like poison, right?”

“Then why drink it?” Grayson asked, visibly cringing.

“You’re not a girl, Gray. You wouldn’t understand,” I said sweetly, my expression so fake it should’ve won an award. He took the hint and left.

Alone again, I leaned back and allowed my mind to wander—back seven years.

That night.

That man.

He saved me when I was nothing but blood, rage, and ruin. If he hadn’t stepped in, I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t have become the puppeteer playing with people’s lives like chess.

A deep chuckle escaped me.

They’re all puppets—brainless, blind, dancing to my strings.

All of them except one.

Vihaan.

He’s the only one I could never trap—because hurting him would shatter me.

I held his photo again, close to my chest.

“Vihaan... look what you’ve done to me.”

I kissed the glass gently.

“You’re my angel,” I whispered. “You’ll never understand how much I love you. Even I don’t. But I’ll protect you. Even from me.”

Just then, my phone buzzed again. I groaned.

Mehak.

What does this annoying pest want now?

I set the frame back down with care and answered the call while walking to the floor-to-ceiling window, eyes gazing out at the sprawling city.

“What do you want?” I snapped.

“I–I was thinking maybe we could hang out,” she stammered.

“I’m busy.”

“Vihaan will be there too,” she added quickly.

And just like that, the irritation faded.

Clever bitch. She knew exactly which string to pull.

“Fine,” I said. “Text me the time and place.”

I hung up, lips curling in anticipation.

Mehak could play all the games she wanted—but she had no idea who she was dealing with.

Because Vihaan?

Vihaan was already mine.

---

“Vihaan, son, what a surprise.”

Mom’s voice floated toward me as soon as I stepped into the house. She sounded happy… unaware of the hurricane I’d brought home with me.

“Bhai!”

Aarav came running, throwing his arms around me with his usual cheerfulness. For a split second, I faltered.

My hands hesitated before hugging him back.

For a fleeting moment—I questioned it all.

What I was about to do.

Who I was about to become.

But I reminded myself: this time, I’m being selfish.

For the first time in my life.

And I’m not backing down.

“How are you, Aarav?” I asked with a smile after pulling away, my tone light.

“Fine, bhai!” He beamed, completely clueless to the storm brewing in my heart.

“I need to shower. I’ll see you at lunch.”

Without waiting for another word, I climbed the stairs to my room, locked the door behind me, tossed my luggage aside, kicked off my shoes, and collapsed onto the bed.

A long sigh escaped me.

Finally alone.

And, as if on cue, my mind returned to her.

My troublemaker.

God, even her chaos is a comfort.

I lay there for a while, eyes closed, heart wide open, lost in thoughts of her—the way she smirks, the way she challenges the world like it owes her blood and power.

The way she ruined me without even trying.

---

After showering, I stepped out, towel in hand, drying my hair when my phone buzzed on the side table.

Aarav? Again?

I picked it up, raising a brow.

“Hello, bhai!” His voice chirped. “We’re planning a hangout! More like a picnic, kind of. You coming?”

“No, Aarav. I just want to rest for a few days.”

“Please, bhai!” he whined. “I have to introduce you to someone really special. Please, just this once?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose.

“Fine.”

“That’s my brother!” he cheered before hanging up.

I sighed again and sat on the edge of my bed, picking up my phone and opening my gallery. My thumb hovered over one particular photo—her photo.

The only one that ever mattered.

I stared at it like a lovesick fool.

No. Like a man haunted.

“What did you do to me, troublemaker?” I whispered to the screen.

A soft, hopeless smile tugged at my lips.

“You’re not allowed to let anyone have you who isn’t me.”

I traced her jawline with my fingertip on the glass. “You hear me? You’re mine.”

“I can’t wait to finally meet you. For real. For the first time where everything is out in the open.”

“I’ll make you mine,” I vowed. “And when I do… the world will burn before I let you go.”

---

A sharp knock on the door startled me awake.

“Vihaan?"

That voice.

I groaned and buried my face into the pillow.

Why does she have to exist even in the same universe as me?

“Can I come in?”

“No,” I mumbled, annoyed that my dream of her was interrupted.

The knocking didn’t stop.

Of course it didn’t. Mehek has never understood boundaries.

Rolling out of bed, I walked over to my closet. My hair was a mess, eyes still drowsy—but I had to fix it. The only person who gets to see me in my raw, sleepy state is her.

Only her.

My woman.

Mrs. Vihaan Kapoor-to-be.

I adjusted my hair, then walked to the door and unlocked it.

There she was.

The last person I wanted to see.

Mehek.

“What do you want?” I asked, not even trying to hide my irritation.

“Oh, I just found out from aunty that you’re back home. So I thought I’d come greet you…” she said with a fake little smile.

She stepped forward to hug me, but I moved away before she could get within touching distance—a skill well-honed thanks to NDA and IMA training.

“Don’t,” I said coldly.

She blinked, thrown off by my frost.

I closed my eyes for a moment, willing the anger to stay buried. People like her... they never understand.

Why can’t they see it?

I belong to one woman.

One. And it’s not her. Never was.

“Leave.”

She stared at me, unsure if I was serious. But the weight of my stare left no room for misinterpretation. She turned and walked away.

I shut the door quietly and leaned back against it. My chest rose and fell like I’d just come out of a battle.

My hand moved instinctively to the locket around my neck—the one thing I never took off.

I brought it to my lips and kissed it softly.

They say I’m an atheist—and they’re not wrong.

I’ve never believed in gods, prayers, or divine destinies.

But for her, I worship.

For her, I believe.

I whispered into the silence, voice low and trembling with a rare vulnerability.

“I’m going to need strength… not for me, but for her.”

“God… if you exist, if you’ve ever listened to a man like me—then listen now.”

“She believes in you. So I’m asking you just this once. On her behalf.”

“Keep her safe. Just for a few more days.”

“I can’t protect her right now—not the way I want to. But soon… I will. I’ll shield her from the world. From pain. From even me.”

I looked up at the ceiling like there was someone up there who might be listening.

“If you hate me, fine. If you want to punish me, fine. But don’t you dare punish her for loving me.”

“If anything happens to her… I swear, I will rage a war against your entire creation.”

“I don’t need your heaven. Just give her this world. This life. Safely.”

“Because if you take her from me—if you even try—”

My voice dropped to a whisper.

“—I’ll become something even you can’t control.”