Woh khwaab tha ya koi adhoori haqeeqat…

chehra uska dhundhla tha, magar ehsaas behad apna.

20 . 05 . 2017

There was no logic in the way my universe operated. There were no clinical boardrooms, no underworld registries, and no mathematical coordinates that could accurately map the exact second a man’s destiny was permanently re-written.

I was twenty-seven years old. An apex predator in the middle of executing chilling, predatory stillness that commanded the very oxygen in the room, carving a multi-million dollar empire out of the jagged bones of my enemies. To the syndicates, I was a looming shadow they couldn't bind. The execution of my downfall was supposed to be clinical. Clean. Meticulous. A highly coordinated assassination attempt engineered by rival empires, disguised as a horrific, screaming accident right outside the iron gates of an elite academy.

The layout of the trap was flawless.

I was driving down the main asphalt strip stretching past the academy grounds when the trap sprang. The black car came out of nowhere, its tires screaming in a desperate, violent friction as it struck an obstruction left deliberately on the concrete. The impact was deafening—a concussive roar that shattered the afternoon air. The sheer velocity of the collision tore the traction completely from beneath the wheels. The massive vehicle rolled over and over, flipping helplessly across the concrete like a broken toy until it slammed onto its side. The driver's side door crumpled inward with a sickening, metallic crunch of steel, pinning me brutally against the dashboard.

The memory of the impact remained frozen in my mind like a shattered pane of stained glass, every fragment reflecting a different angle of the wreckage, trapping me inside a cage of jagged steel, suffocating smoke, and the heavy, sweet, volatile scent of leaking gasoline.

Through the shattered remnants of the reinforced glass window, the outside world was nothing but a distant, muffled chorus of horrified screams. Teachers rooted themselves to the pavement. Parents pulled their children backward into safety. A crowd of hundreds, completely paralyzed by terror, waited for the wreckage to explode. They waited for the rising titan to die in the dark.

Then, the static in my universe simply vanished.

Out of the sea of cowards, a single silhouette broke formation. A fifteen-year-old girl, her starched school uniform collar damp against her skin, ran directly toward the smoking inferno with a raw, unyielding determination that belonged to a vengeful deity, not a child. She didn't hesitate. She didn't look back.

She knelt down right into the sea of razor-sharp glass, her small, trembling hand pushing straight through the broken window, reaching deep into the thick, toxic smoke to find me.

The exact millisecond my eyes slowly cracked open and my gaze locked onto hers, the world stopped bleeding. An electric, blinding spark of an all-consuming, dark pull—a violent cosmic fever—tore through my dying nervous system. She didn't just pull me out of the fire. She claimed my soul before she even knew my full legal name.

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The pristine white ceiling of the private hospital suite stabilized as my eyes snapped open, a violent gasp ripping from my parched throat. My lungs screamed for air, the bitter sting of sterile antiseptic burning my nasal passages.

The room was instantly flooded with a heavy, suffocating tension. Dozens of elite bodyguards stood in a rigid, impenetrable wall of black suits around my bed, their leather holsters creaking as their bodies shifted in surprise. Out of the perimeter, the rapid, syncopated click of polished shoes broke the silence. My head of security stepped forward, his face pale and taut with relief as he hurried toward the mattress.

My chest heaved, a raw, terrifying fire spreading beneath my ribs that had absolutely nothing to do with my fractured bones. It was a vicious, unyielding obsession, sparking to life and burning through my veins like boiling oil until the suffocating heat crowded the very oxygen from my throat, leaving my chest tight, hollow, and fiercely starving for her presence. The phantom texture of her small, glass-cut fingers through the black smoke was a brand seared permanently into my skin.

I pushed through the blinding, white-hot agony racking my frame, forcing myself up against the starched pillows. My gaze narrowed, locking onto my lead protector with absolute, cold-blooded dominance.

"I want information regarding that girl who saved me," I commanded, my voice dropping into a raspy, lethal growl that carried the chilling, razor-thin weight of a loaded trigger. The sound cut through the room like cold steel, making the entire room go utterly still.

Beside the bed, a young nurse stepped into my peripheral vision, the soft rustle of her uniform fabric cutting through the silence. She began unrolling a fresh sterile bandage, her movements deliberately slow, her eyelashes sweeping downward as she tried to catch my eye. She leaned closer than necessary, her fingertips tracing a lingering, soft path over the skin of my forearm as she prepared a sedative injection. It was a practiced, desperate gesture of seduction—a calculated attempt to anchor my attention while surrounded by a small army of lethal weapons.

I didn't blink. I didn't shift my eyes toward her for a fraction of a millisecond. To me, her presence was nothing but empty, invisible air.

"Sure, boss," the lead bodyguard replied, bowing his head instantly into unyielding submission as the air in the room turned ice-cold.

The nurse paused, her hand hovering with the needle, her chest rising as she made one final, bold gesture to intercept my gaze.

"Finish it," I breathed, my voice dropping into a dangerous, barely audible rasp—a freezing, skin-crawling whisper that felt like the slow, cold drag of a blade across her throat.

"If your fingers linger on my skin for one more second, I will ensure they are severed before you leave this floor. Do your job, or become a casualty."

The words hit her like a physical blow. The nurse flinched violently, the seductive mask completely shattering as a sudden, paralyzing tremor overtook her hands. She plunged the needle in with frantic, uncoordinated speed, wrapped the bandage with trembling, desperate haste, and practically fled from the suite, the door clicking shut behind her retreating footsteps.

Silence bled back into the room, heavy and absolute, save for the dark, rhythmic thump of the pulse in my veins.

01 . 08 . 2026

A heated gaze dragged over my body like fire.

Even in sleep, every nerve screamed. My breath grew heavier. My toes curled tightly into the sheets as I felt a large, warm mouth close over my pussy. Soft folds were parted, and teeth grazed me with deliberate pressure. A tiny, sharp gasp escaped my parted lips.

“Oh…”

I gripped the bedsheet so hard my knuckles turned white. The figure dragged his tongue slowly upward until it found my clit. Pleasure shot through me so sharply that tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. Then he sucked harder.

A broken cry tore from my throat.

I still couldn’t see anything clearly — only the dark shape of a head buried between my legs. My own head fell back against the pillow as his tongue moved faster, relentless and skilled. Strong hands pinned my hips down so I couldn’t escape the overwhelming sensation. My thighs began to shake uncontrollably.

The pleasure climbed higher and higher until a high-pitched scream ripped from my mouth. I shattered around him, pulsing hard against his tongue. He hummed in dark, satisfied approval and continued sucking, drawing every last tremor from my body.

When he finally lifted his head, I tried to see his face — but everything remained blurred, trapped inside the dream. The only thing that stayed with me was the brief press of his lips against my neck.

─── 𓎂𓎂 🥀 𓎂𓎂 ───

I woke with a violent jerk.

My chest heaved as I struggled to catch my breath. The room was dark and quiet. My saint night dress clung to my skin, completely soaked between my thighs.

“Shit…”

I turned toward the bedside table. The clock read 3:15 a.m.

Who was that figure?

Why did this same dream keep returning to me night after night? Even after everything I had already been through… even after I tried so hard to erase the memories of my broken past… this faceless man still found his way into my sleep.

For a second, I had caught a glimpse of something.

Star-dust eyes.

I swallowed hard and reached for the water bottle on the left side of the bed. My hands trembled slightly as I unscrewed the cap and took small, careful sips. The cool water slowly calmed the tightness in my throat and chest.

When I finished, I pushed the curtains aside and stepped onto the balcony. The moonlight washed over me, quiet and cold. I needed it to erase the lingering heat of the dream.

How much longer was I going to stay locked inside these memories?

Only one people knew the full truth of my past — Krishti Bhabhi, and my eldest cousin brother, Riddhimaan Bhaiya's wife, the heir of the Ranawat family.

I closed my eyes and let the night air touch my face.

Whoever that man in my dreams was…

he was getting closer.

And I still didn’t know his name.

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