His claim, Her cage

Chapter-2

The Agnihotri estate hasn't changed.

The towering gates, the suffocating air of old power, the weight of history carved into its walls-I remember it all. But what lingers most are the ghosts of my past, clawing at the edges of my mind.

I was here once. Years ago.

A shadow, a child, unnoticed. But I noticed her.

Amber Agnihotri.

She was seven. I was fourteen. Too young to understand what she would become to me, too old to forget what I saw that night.

She doesn't remember me.

But I never forgot her.

And today, when I step into her home, I already know this is where it ends. This house took something from me, and now, I'm taking something from it.

Her.

Vikrant Agnihotri awaits our arrival, his expression carefully schooled. The rest of his family is caught off guard, their shock barely masked as we take our seats in their grand hall.

My father speaks first. His voice is smooth, carrying the weight of a decision already made.

"So, we're settled. We end the feud with a relationship-a marriage. Your family's daughter to my son, Sairaj."

The tension in the room thickens.

Alekha.

The eldest Agnihotri daughter. The logical choice. The one everyone assumes will be sacrificed for peace.

Her spine straightens at the mention, eyes flicking to her father. There's no panic, no visible distress-just quiet acceptance.

She was expecting this.

But then Viren laughs.

Viren is my cousin, fourth in line to the throne.

A slow, mocking sound that makes my fingers twitch.

"Alekha? Of course. The perfect, obedient daughter." He leans back, tilting his head. "But tell me, Vikrant-why sacrifice a good one when you have a useless one rotting upstairs?"

Silence.

I don't react. Not yet.

Viren smirks, shifting forward, his eyes gleaming with something ugly. "Amber. That little failure. What's the point of keeping her locked away? If you won't let anyone touch her, at least let her be of use."

I feel my father shift beside me, but Viren keeps going, emboldened by the silence.

"I don't know why you're even keeping her. She should've been broken in by now. Maybe that's why she's hidden-because she's already been fucked, isn't that right, Vikrant?"

Alekha inhales sharply. Someone at the table moves. But Viren isn't done. My fingers clenched around the gun, the cold metal burning against my hardened resolve.

"I don't understand why you even want to marry her, Sairaj." He turns to me, shrugging. "She's nothing. You could have had Alekha, but you want that whore instead?"

The bullet leaves the chamber before he finishes.

Crack.

His body jerks before collapsing. Lifeless. Insignificant.

The metallic scent of blood coats the air, thick and undeniable.

Silence.

"That would require a lot of explaining", I sigh feeling my brother's, Atharva's gaze on me.

I barely spare him a glance as I slide my gun back into its holster.

And then-movement.

The moment I hear footsteps, my gaze snaps to the stairs.

And then I see her.

Amber Agnihotri, my destruction.

She moves like a ghost, fluid and lethal, her steps silent against the polished floor. The translucent fabric of her outfit veils her frame, but it doesn't hide the fire in her gaze.

She's changed.

Not the fragile girl from years ago. She's a storm now. My storm.

Her chin is lifted in defiance, but her fingers curl around the grip of a gun. Stealth. Precision. Preparedness. She's ready to fight.

She thinks she has a choice.

She doesn't.

She sweeps her gaze across the room, taking in the scene with the sharpness of a blade. The body. The blood. Me.

And then, finally, her eyes meet mine.

I see it-the moment recognition flickers, a split-second of something unreadable.

She doesn't know me, doesn't recognize me at all, from that night years ago.

Not yet.

But she will.

Because I have been around. Watching. Waiting. I have seen her grow into the woman she is today, the woman who would look just as stunning wielding a blade as she does holding that gun.

She entered my life with a disaster. And she became my destruction that very night.

Now, I'm here to make her pay.

"Sairaj-" Vikrant starts, his voice carefully measured. "Amber isn't my eldest daughter. You meant Alekha-"

"Her."

The word final, ultimate.

The word leaves my lips, sharp and absolute.

Amber flinches.

The weight of the moment crashes down on her. I watch the slight, near-invisible tremor in her breath. The way her eyes dart to her father, searching-hoping-for denial.

But there is none.

Vikrant Agnihotri nods.

And just like that, she is mine.

Her gun slips from her grip.

Clatter.

The metal rings against the marble, an echoing surrender she never intended to make.

Her fingers twitch, too late to stop it.

And then, her gaze lifts-straight to me.

I rise slowly, every step deliberate, as I walk towards her, my hand reaching down to grab her gun. She drops to the ground in a blur, our hands crashing together, her eyes searing into mine, the fire in them too fierce, too raw, to ever be extinguished.

I see it now. The shift. The fear. The fury. The realization.

As she stands, I move closer, slipping the gun into her waistband. She flinches, but I don't pull back, my hand lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

Not so gentleman-ly of me, but I never cared to be one.

I lean in, my breath hot against her ear, and whisper, *"See you soon, wife."*

She doesn't flinch, her expression unchanging, her eyes cold and distant, but there's no denial, she knows how things work in our world.

My little bird has learnt well.

I turn on my heels, not glancing back-not at her, not at the blood pooling on the floor, and certainly not at my brother, who falls in step behind me

She doesn't remember me. That has to change.

She will remember me till her very last breath.