Unleashed

chapter-6

Sairaj

"She's looking so pretty," Noor Bhabhi muses beside me.

"You saw her?" Vidhi asks.

"Yeah, I met her upstairs... in her room." There's something in the way she says it, an amused lilt to her voice.

"Lagta hai devar ji toh gir jayenge dekh kar," she teases.

I ignore her.

My focus sharpens as her mother and bhabhi begin descending the stairs. My pulse, steady and controlled, ticks just a little faster because I know-she's coming.

And then I see her.

Amber, draped in orange and gold, walking down the stairs like a vision straight out of some cruel fairytale. The flickering light catches the intricate embroidery of her lehenga, making it shimmer as though flames dance around her. She walks like she's untouchable, like she belongs nowhere, like she's too strong to be owned by anyone.

Yet here she is. About to be mine.

In that moment, the world outside us fades into nothing. The murmurs of the guests, the distant music, the weight of tradition pressing down on us-it all becomes background noise.

She lifts her gaze, and I catch it, hold it. Something electric passes between us, something sharp and searing, something that neither of us are willing to name.

I take a step forward.

I'm not chivalrous. Never have been. But I can welcome her to my hell, at the very least.

She reaches down as the veil slips slightly behind her, her fingers hesitant before they finally touch mine. The smallest contact, but enough for something dark to curl in my chest. I lead her to the stage, my eyes never leaving her, daring her to look away first.

She doesn't.

Not even when I slip the ring onto her finger.

Not even when my mother drapes the red dupatta over her head, sealing her fate.

Not even when Noor Bhabhi fastens our family heirloom around her wrists, the weight of it pressing against her skin, the weight of reality pressing into her soul.

She doesn't react. Doesn't flinch. Almost numb. Almost.

And then, she lifts her hand and slides the ring onto my finger.

There's the slightest tremble, a fraction of hesitation before she steels herself. I feel the cold metal settle against my skin, and for the first time in my life, I feel-unsettled.

But she's mine now.

To hate.

To destroy.

I snake my hand around her waist, pulling her close. Maybe to steady her. Maybe to remind her that there's no escaping me now.

She hisses under her breath, a silent warning, her lips still curled into a perfect, practiced smile for the crowd.

I smirk.

The cameras flash, and I feel her body press against mine as I pull her closer. She gasps, her eyes meeting mine-sharp, defiant.

"Aadat daal lo, biwi... meri,"

(Get used to it, wife...,get used to me) I whisper, my voice a sinful caress.

She tenses, forcing a smile for the crowd. "I'm not your biwi."

His mother chimes in, "Bahot pyari jodi hai." (Such a lovely pair.)

I smirk, and she tries to slip away, but I catch her wrist. "A dance," I announce, leaving no room for refusal. I lead her to the center of the hall.

The music starts.

"Jism se ruh tak hai tumhare nishan..."

(From my body to my soul, your marks remain...)

I pull her flush against me, my arm a steel band around her waist. My other hand captures hers, my grip firm yet teasing.

"Tum ek behad khoobsurat dhokha ho, biwi,"

(You are a beautiful deception, wife.) I whisper, my lips brushing her ear. The contact sends a shiver through her.

She stiffens. Her breath hitches-not from my words, but from my touch.

"Aur tum... tum ek beraham saza ho, jo mujhe bina kisi gunaah ke mili hai,"

she says, her voice fierce, unshaken-despite her body reacting to every single touch.

And fuck, it does nothing but drive me insane.

The fearlessness in her makes me want to break her-

to find the cracks, the fault lines, the places where she falters.

But she doesn't. She never does.

"Saza toh ab umrkaid ki hai...

aur tumhe har saans, har lamha meri qaid mein rehna hai, jaan,"

I seethe, voice low, rough.

Something dark flickers in her eyes-just for a second-before she puts the mask back on.

Fearless. Strong. Unbreakable.

I twirl her effortlessly, her lehenga flaring around us like golden flames. My fingers skim her arm, sending a shock of warmth through her skin.

"I will never be yours. Never your wife," she whispers, but her voice trembles with rage.

My smirk deepens, my hand sliding from her shoulder to her neck, the deliberate motion enough to make her breath hitch.

"I will let you live in delusions," I murmur darkly, "until you wear my name's nuptial chain."

Her pulse quickens beneath my fingers, but she refuses to show it.

The music swells, the intimacy between us thickening. Her body betrays her, but she keeps her head high, defiance in her eyes.

"Aur tab tak?" (And until then?) she asks, trying to keep her composure.

I lean closer, my breath warm against her ear. "Tab tak, biwi..."(Until then, wife...)

I let my fingers trail down her arm before gripping her waist tighter, pulling her even closer.

"Main tumhe yaad dilata rahunga ki tum sirf meri ho."

(I will keep reminding you that you are only mine.)

Her breath hitches, but she stands her ground.

The music slows, the air thick with something unspoken. Her body presses against mine, and I feel her pulse, fast and erratic. I want to pull her in closer, but the sound of applause shatters the moment.

She pulls away quickly, as though my touch burns.

The crowd claps, but she slips away, disappearing.

My jaw clenches, the pressure building. I need to get her out of my head-need to think straight. The thought alone makes me restless. I rip off my tie, the tightness around my neck suffocating me, and step out. My mind races as I spot a blind spot near the pond. I light a cigarette, the smoke a brief escape as I inhale deeply, trying to steady myself.

And then, like a force of nature, she appears. The very star of my chaos. She sits on the bench, silent, her presence like a storm waiting to unfold, trying to keep the world at bay. I approach, having already figured out her blind spot.

She doesn't notice me until I speak.

"Tired?" I murmur, my voice a low rasp.

She doesn't turn, but I can hear the frustration in her voice. "Of you, infinitely."

I chuckle, stepping closer, the gravel crunching beneath my boots.

"Tired?" I repeat, but this time there's something more in my voice.

She doesn't respond, her grip tightening on the bench.

I close the distance between us, my presence caging her in. I lean over, my breath grazing the dupatta draped over her shoulder. "You make it sound like I'm a villain, biwi."

She doesn't flinch. She remains still, but I can feel the tension in her every fiber.

"But tell me... did it feel that way when you were in my arms?"

Her jaw clenches, but she doesn't look at me. "You mistake tolerance for willingness."

I let out a slow breath, my lips brushing her skin, my voice dark and taunting. "And you mistake defiance for control."

She turns then, her eyes meeting mine-her breath quick, but her gaze unwavering. "I will never be yours."

I smirk, my face inches from hers, our bodies so close I can feel her pulse against me. "We'll see, biwi." Her phone's screen lights up with a name, karan, her eyes widen. And by her reaction I can tell who he's to her, my fingers clench around the bench.

With one last lingering look, I turn and walk away.

As the cars drive off, my eyes meet hers-fierce, unyielding. She's not wearing the family heirloom that was just gifted to her. The red tilak smudged on her forehead, makeup ruined, her dark hair cascading in a wild, untamed mess around her shoulders.

She looks wild. Defiant. A storm barely restrained.

My jaw ticks.

Is this all for a guy? For him?

Something dark coils in my chest, twisting violently, possessively. My fingers flex against the steering wheel, and my gaze sharpens. Everything in me screams to remind her-show her-who she belongs to.

But I control it. I rein the beast in.

As the other cars round the corner, I take a sharp turn and park in the shadows. I kill the engine and step out, my strides long and deliberate as I make my way back toward the mansion.

I don't enter through the doors. Instead, I climb.

The intricate carvings on the walls give me the leverage I need. Her room is on the first floor, and within seconds, I pull myself onto the balcony. The curtains whip against my face as I land, the breeze making them dance like ghosts.

And then, I see her.

Her back is to me, bare. Her blouse unhooked. She suddenly turns, startled. Her arms clutch the front of her blouse to her chest, her breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps. The moonlight pours in, illuminating the flush creeping up her throat, the disbelief in her wide-eyed gaze as she presses herself against the wall.

She grabs the knife from her drawer. Never giving up, little bird.

She looks like prey caught in the sights of a predator.

I move toward her-slow, deliberate strides that echo through the silent room. Her chest rises and falls with every step I take. I don't stop until I'm inches away. My palm comes up, pressing against the wall near her face, trapping her. Holding her wrist taking the knife with slow, calculated ease.

I lean in, my voice a whisper against her trembling lips.

"Doing any of this won't erase the fact that you're mine now."

Her breath hitches.

"Doing any of this won't bring him back."

I tilt my head, watching the way her fingers tighten around the fabric of her blouse.

"Or do you want me to drag him down here, kill him in front of you-just to make sure you know who you belong to?"

Her exhale is sharp, filled with anger and something else I don't name.

And then-slap.

Her palm cracks across my face, the sting blooming across my jaw.

I don't react. I just click my jaw, my fingers flexing as I catch her wrist-the same one she dared to hit me with.

" Aag se mat khelo Sairaj Suryavanshi" she snaps

"Agar tum vo aag ho, to Mai har dafa jalne ko taiyar hu" I retort

Our faces mere inches apart, her breath mingling with mine.

Before she can struggle, I spin her around, her bare back now flush against my chest.

She gasps, stiffening as my arm snakes around her tiny waist, caging her in. She's fragile, breakable, delicate-yet she stands against me with a defiance that only makes me want to ruin her further.

The scent of lilies and something sweet invades my senses, seeping into my lungs, into my very being. I remove her hair from over her bare shoulders and I kiss the hollow of her neck. The fabric of the blouse slowly exposing more of her skin, her grasp tightens. I don't know why I take off my coat and cover her bare shoulders, she clutches to it. Maybe her vulnerability, the way her breath shuddered or the way her eyes didn't meet mine.

I turn around, trying to tame the animal in me, to leash it. I look at her, the way she's holding on to my coat like a lifeline, the way the ring shines on her finger, the way her lips tremble ever so slightly, with anger..with rage as her fearless eyes challenge me. Something raw, something so primal awakens in me.. possessiveness.

And before I could stop it..

Unleashed.

My lips crash against hers, the kiss wild, desperate, raw with hate and passion. Her hands press against my chest, her body stiff at first, resisting. But then, something shifts, and she gives in, her body melting into mine. The kiss deepens, both of us consumed by the heat and fury we share.

"End it, Amber."

I pull back slightly, my breath heavy, but I don't let her go. My forehead presses against hers, the tension between us thick and unbearable.

"End it, or I will kill him right in front of you."

Her hands clutch onto my coat. She's trembling, but her defiance remains.

"End it, or I will cut his throat right in front of you."

I say holding her face with both my hands, her eyes on me. She knows it's a promise.

I place the gift box on her bed, then step back, my gaze burning into her. I can feel her touch still lingering on my lips as I turn and walk toward the balcony. Without looking back, I jump down, my eyes meeting hers one last time as I land.

The rage inside me is barely contained as I walk toward my car, every step a reminder of the fire she's ignited in me.

The moment my boots hit the ground, I roll my shoulders, shaking off the lingering heat of her touch, the taste of her defiance still burning on my tongue. My jaw throbs where she slapped me, but the sting only fuels the storm brewing inside me.

Amber.

She's fire and ice, a contradiction wrapped in silk and steel, and for the first time in my life, I feel like I'm losing control.

I stride to my car, yanking the door open, but I don't get in. Not yet. My grip tightens around the door frame, knuckles turning white. My mind replays the way her breath hitched when I whispered against her skin, the way her fingers curled around my coat like she was holding onto the last shred of control she had left.

The way she kissed me back.

The thought makes something dark and primal coil inside me, twisting with possessive rage. She was mine in that moment, despite her words, despite her resistance.

And yet... his name flashed on her phone.

Karan.

I don't know who he is. Not yet. But I will.

The air is thick with the scent of smoke and damp earth, the night alive with distant sounds of the celebration still carrying on inside. My fingers flex against the car door as I exhale sharply, forcing myself to think. To strategize.

She thinks she can fight me. That she can slip through my fingers.

She has no idea what I'm willing to do to keep her, to destroy her,and to put her pieces back all over again.

I finally slide into the driver's seat, the leather cool against my skin, but the fire inside me refuses to settle. My phone buzzes in my pocket, but I ignore it, my gaze fixed on the rearview mirror, on the shadowed balcony where I left her.

She's still there.

Watching me.

Her silhouette framed by the moonlight, her arms wrapped around herself, as if she's holding herself together.

She thinks distance will save her.

That I will let her go.

I smirk, turning the key in the ignition, the engine roaring to life. The sound cuts through the night, a promise, a warning.

She may not wear my name yet, atleast in her head.

But she will.

One way or another.

I pull out onto the road, the city lights bleeding into the dark horizon. My mind is a battlefield of thoughts, strategies forming and shifting with every mile I put between us.

But I know one thing for sure.

Amber doesn't get to decide how this ends.

I do.

As soon as I step into my house, Kabir is at the bar. He looks strange somehow, his eyes distant.

"What's on your mind?" I ask, pouring myself a drink.

Kabir turns his head slightly, then smirks. "Ishika."

I almost choke on the whiskey. "What?" My voice comes out sharp, disbelief cutting through it. "Amber's sister?"

Kabir just tilts his glass toward me, as if this is some casual conversation and not a damn disaster waiting to happen.

"Kabir," I say, setting my drink down with a thud. "One Agnihotri is enough for this house."

The little shit smirks wider, unbothered. "And yet, here we are."

I exhale harshly. "She may even be older than you."

"Except she's not," he counters smoothly. "She's just two years older than Amber bhabhi, which makes her twenty-three. And even if she was older, would it matter?" He takes a slow sip, his eyes gleaming with determination. "I've made up my mind. Another Suryavanshi going after what he wants."

His words drift to a distant sound in my mind because something else sticks-bhabhi.

Bhabhi.

Amber.

Something mine.

I take a slow sip of my whiskey, letting the burn settle in my throat as I watch Kabir. The little shit looks far too pleased with himself.

"You're serious about this?" My voice comes out sharper than intended.

Kabir leans back against the bar, swirling his own drink lazily. "When have you ever known me to joke about what I want?"

I exhale through my nose, my grip tightening around the glass. One Agnihotri in this house was already enough to set my entire world on fire. Another?

No.

"Ishika Agnihotri is off-limits," I state, my tone leaving no room for argument.

Kabir, being Kabir, simply grins. "Amber bhabhi was off-limits too, wasn't she?"

My jaw ticks. "That's different."

"How?"

I don't answer.

Because I don't have one.

Amber is a battle I was always meant to fight, a storm I was always meant to claim. But Ishika? The idea of Kabir bringing another Agnihotri into this house, into our lives, doesn't sit right with me.

Doesn't sit right at all.

Kabir watches me carefully, as if waiting for my reaction. I drain my glass and place it down with a quiet clink, pushing away from the bar.

"Whatever you're thinking, drop it."

He chuckles under his breath. "Not happening, bhai."

I don't stay to argue. My mind is already a mess, tangled with the scent of lavender, the feel of defiance pressed against me, the sting of her slap still burning my skin.

Amber.

I hit the shower, letting the water soak me, my clothes, to take away the heat coming off of me.

Her lips. The slight tremble.

It's making me think of things I wouldn't want to.

I rub my face, and the cold metal on my ring finger yanks me back-to why I did any of this. To the reason behind it all.

She's the reason.

I will never forgive the Agnihotris.

And she's going to pay. Every single second of her life.

I call Marco as soon as I'm out of the shower.

"Marco, look for a guy named karan. He studied at IVU, and he's somehow linked to the youngest Agnihotri. Tell me whatever you find out."

My father calls for an urgent meeting early in the morning.

I head in with a clean look, as if I hadn't been up all night-because of a certain someone.

"The Bratva is closing in on us," my father says, sitting at the head of the table, exuding power.

"But they can't attack directly," Kabir states.

"Yes, and that's why they are looking for sources, evidence," Atharva adds.

"But they won't find any," I say, the conversation already boring me.

"Fix a meeting with Alex Vitalio," I state.

All eyes turn to me.

"Fix a meeting," I repeat casually. "I will handle this."

Atharva nods at me with understanding and heads out, taking a call.

"How's everything with the Rajvanshis?"

"It's under control," I state. "I'm thinking of buying their palace."

My father nods, his gaze sharp. "I know you're trying to showcase who holds power in this alliance, son, but don't pull strings so hard that they break."

I nod. He's not talking about the Rajvanshis.

He's talking about my marriage.

He's talking about her. I don't care if she breaks, her fate is sealed. Her fate is me.

I look at Atharva

"Noor bhabhi and you have to attend the ball at their palace" I state.

"Your deal, you should go, with your fiance," he says, smirking at me.

Bastard.

"What?", he says suppressing a smile. "A good way to introduce her to your world, don't you think?"

"Shut your mouth before I forget you're my elder brother" I say getting up , he only smiles at me.

My father doesn't pay heed to any of the conversation later and walks out, his right-hand man, Dhruva, following closely behind.

I glare at my elder brother.

"What?" he

says, leaning casually against the table.

"Fuck off," I state, walking out of my dad's office.

Yep. Just what I needed-another night of pure torture with her.

I had this planned for years, every move calculated, every step leading to this moment. But she... she has taken me by storm. The way she's crawling her way under my skin-it's frustrating.

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