WRECKED FATES

The room was suffocating with tension as Kiara hurled a crystal vase against the wall, the shards scattering like her shattered trust. Her breaths came in ragged gasps, tears burning in her eyes as she glared at Ayaan, who stood at the doorway, unflinching amidst the wreckage. "You think you can control my life? You and my father, deciding my fate like I'm some pawn in your bloody game!" she shouted, her voice cracking. Ayaan didn't respond immediately. Instead, he strode toward her, his presence dominating the room. She took a step back instinctively, her anger flickering with something else—something that felt like fear. "Kiara," he said, his voice dangerously soft, "agar cheezein todne ka shauk hai, toh main help kar doon?" His fingers wrapped around her wrist, pulling her close, his eyes locked on hers. "Par yaad rakh, agar mere saamne yeh nautanki dobara hui, toh jo todna chah rahi ho na, tum khud ban jaogi." Her heart thudded painfully in her chest, the unspoken threat hanging in the air. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came. Ayaan leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear. "Dar lag raha hai, Kiara?" he whispered, his tone laced with mockery. "Darna bhi chahiye. Her body froze as his grip loosened, and he took a step back, the intensity in his gaze burning into her. "Ab meri baari hai cheezein decide karne ki. Tumhare liye, aur tumhare liye hi sirf." He turned toward the door. "Sab bahar jao," he barked, and within moments, the room was empty except for them. Kiara's chest heaved, her mind racing to understand the storm she had just unleashed—and the man standing before her, as terrifying as he was unreadable.