He was the light in her dark. With him gone, darkness was back to her.

•Her Life/ His Life•

A U T H O R

Mother.

A form of a divine blessing. A substitute sent by God to people he couldn't be with.

A mother is the first home a child ever knows—the heartbeat they hear before their own, the arms that cradle them before they understand the world. She is the quiet strength behind every stumble and every triumph, the one who sees the light in her child even when the world turns dark. Her love is not measured in grand gestures but in the smallest moments—tired hands braiding hair before school, whispered reassurances in the dead of night, a knowing glance that speaks louder than words.

They say a mother doesn't treat her children partially. For her, all her children are the same, a part of her heart.

But was she not a part of her mother?

Was she not brought in the world by her, from within her. So why not her? Why didn't she deserve the love from her mother like her brother did?

“Ivara!”

Ivara remained seated at her place, her gaze refusing to let go of the scene before them. The scene where the couple was celebrating their daughter's birthday. It was not  some kind of a grand occasion, nor was it for the first time Ivara had seen such scenarios. It was the parents' faces, plastered with a never-ending smile, that caught her attention. Their happiness was looking like a tide, rising with every giggle of their girl and every twinkle in her eyes.

Maybe it was the way the mother fed her the cake while cooing the girl to which she responded with a laugh of her own, or the way the father lifted her bundle of joy in his arm, twirling her around in air and feeding her the cake, occasionally booping her nose or tickling her playfully, or—

“Ms Ivara Shekhawat!”

Ivara jumped in her place at her manager's stone-hard voice.

“Yes Sir.” She stumbled and got up from her seat, wincing and jerking her legs when they felt like pins and needles after sitting over them for long.

“I'm quite confident I have been paying you for serving customers at the counter and not for staring at them and freaking them out.” Her manager glared. She bit her tongue and glanced at her friend from the corner of her eye, who looked equally scared, probably cursing her stars to choose her as her working companion.

“I'm sorry Sir.” She looked down and blinked her eyes rapidly to form fake tears and feign a guilty look.

The manager, who was unaware of her acting, felt his heart slightly pinch at her innocence. “All right. It's... It's okay.” He patted Ivara's shoulder. “But this should not be repeated ladies.” The girls huffed out a breath of relief as soon as the door of the manager's room slammed shut.

Ivara's friend turned to glare at Ivara, who took two steps backwards with a sheepish smile.

“You.” She pointed an accusing finger at Ivara. “Everytime I get stuck because of YOU. Just, WHY do you always have to start daydreaming in the middle of the working hours!?” Ivara rolled her eyes and looped her arm around her friend's shoulders.

“For your first question, it is always ME to save you from that khadoos manager too, na? And for the second part, please the reality of life is too boring to not dwell into daydream. Don't you agree, Nargis?” Nargis slapped her hand away in irritation.

“No matter what Ivara, we can daydream all we want, but at the end of the day we have to face the reality. It is our shadow, we can never escape our shadow.” Ivara mimicked Nargis's lecture with her hands, earning a smack on her head.

“Don't. And for your saving part. Of course the manager has a crush on you. Why wouldn't he deliberately upset you?” Nargis teased.

“Oh come on Nargis. Please not this again.” Ivara groaned. “Why would be like such a commoner like me?” She dusted the counter with a towel absentmindedly.

“Because of your smile, duhh.” Her hands paused in between. “Your smile is enough to force a stone to melt, yaar. C'mon, he's just a man. Your cuteness is your biggest weapon. Seriously, God really took his time while making his creation. How are you so beautiful? I really need your beauty tips and, oh yeah-”

Nargis went on rambling, but Ivara was once again lost in her thoughts.

Oh, how I wish this beauty was rather in my life than my face.

She thought in her mind.

“Hello!” Nargis snapped her fingers before her eyes, bringing her attention back. “What were you thinking by the way?” Ivara smiled to herself and looked down.

“Nothing special. Just the usual.” Nargis stopped smiling. She bit her tongue and glanced at the family, listening Ivara's words without her saying a word.

“Shit I'm so sorry, Ivu.” She wrapped her arms around the woman's petite body, enveloping her in a warm, reassuring embrace. Nargis was that one friend of Ivara whom she trusted more than herself. She was like her personal diary, where she could fill up everything she wished, everything she felt, without the fear of it revealing the darkest secrets of her life with anyone else.

“It's okay, sweetheart.” Ivara patted her arm surrounding her. “Ivu, seriously, you always leave me awestruck with your strength. How do you manage to be so carefree, how can you smile with all that pain?” Nargis mumbled while burying her face in Ivara's shoulder.

“Because nobody cares, Nargis.” Ivara gulped the painful lump forming in her throat. “Nobody cares about us. They don't care about me. My pain for others was like a raindrop on a windshield, noticed for a moment, then wiped away, like it never existed. They wouldn't sit down noticing it details.” A year dropped down her cheeks, which she wiped away hurriedly, afraid to let her vulnerable side come out.

“But I am Ivu.” Nargis rubbed her arms in a soothing way. “I am that observer for you. I will sit down, for minutes, hours, even days, trying to figure out that raindrop, it's details, everything.” Ivara smiled and raised Nargis's wrist, planting a soft kiss over her knuckles.

“That's why I love you.” Nargis placed a soft kiss on her forehead and hugged her tighter. Soon, they both got separated from each other and indulged themselves in their work, and just like that, their rest of the day was spent in shifting position on counters, serving customers, and sneaky gossip sessions in between.

By the time the sun had set down, and the moon was visible over the buildings, Ivara was completely wearied with the day's events. She packed her belongings in her locker, bid farewell to Nargis, throwing a small greeting to her cousin who had come to pick her up, wished a small goodnight to her other co-workers, and left for her house.

Since her workplace was in a secluded part of the city, and her apartment was quite close, Ivara chose to walk instead of opting for a taxi or auto. A serene, comfortable silence enveloped her in a thick blanket, paving way for her to fall into the pit of her own thoughts, mindlessly kicking the small stones coming in her way. It took her around fifteen minutes to reach her society, where she muttered quick greetings to her known by-passers, not forgetting to ask about their families and health, and earning their blessings and appreciations about her well-natured manner in return.

Soon, she stood in-front of the door of her 1-BHK flat, rummaging through her bag and pushing aside the stacks of paper, money, her cosmetics, struggling the most with those entangled wires of her charger and earphones holding her keys within their clutch. She reminded herself to get wireless earphones as soon as possible, or let go of her habit of listening to music, asap. After a whole eternity, her soul did a victory dance after she successfully removed the bunch of keys from the mess. She inserted the key within the hole and twisting it twice. As soon as she pushed the door open, the earie familiar darkness hit her skin. The house almost competed with a corpse, pale, dead, cold. 

An unsettling feeling of isolation and melancholy threatened to pass through her skin and seep into her bones. She pressed the switch beside her. The hall immediately basked into a warm, golden light. Ivara sighed in exhaustion and threw her bag across the couch. Removing her shoes, she placed them within the cupboard, and made her way to the kitchen. She fetched herself a glass of water and gulped it down, slamming the glass on the counter and rotating her neck clockwise, wincing at the slight ache. As usual, her appetite had no mood to show its presence, so she didn't bother preparing herself dinner, and moved towards her room. 

Upon entering her bathroom, she stripped off her clothes an undergarments and jumped into the shower. The warm water cascading down her body eased off tension from her aching muscles. After about 20 minutes, she emerged out from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, and moved to her cupboard. Choosing pair of a loose kurta and salwar, she dressed herself, applied moisturiser on her face and palms, then threw the clothes in the laundry basket, and plunged on the slightly hard mattress of her bed. The smell of detergent reached her nostrils as she buried her face into the sheets. 

Ivara's phone pinged with a new notification. She grabbed the device from the side stool, the bright light of her screen illuminating her face. It was her parents' new post on their official Instagram profile, celebrating the 25th birthday of their elder child, Zayaan Shekhawat.

Or rather their only child, considering I was a mistake rather than a child.

The thought left her with a bitter taste. Her mind screamed at her to scroll down. Reluctantly, she zoomed in the picture, taking in the full-blown smile blooming on her mother's face, as she fed her brother a piece of cake, the look of proud at her father's face as he was hugging Zayaan. A lone tear slid down her cheek, seeping into her pillow, the same pillow holding the memoirs of all those nights she had sobbed uncontrollably over the fate God had chosen for her. She had yearned for years, did everything she could do, to earn that looks from her family, for once if not forever. But the result was always the same- a look of disgust, disappointment, and hatred. All she ever received was taunts, jabs, slaps, punches, and loads and loads of chores. It was a miracle they allowed her to complete her Fashion Designing course,

But on what cost....

A bone-chilling tremor ran down her spine when she remembered that night. Tat particular night that snatched the last hopes from her, to be ever loved, to be ever respected, to be lived. Flashes of the past began floating before her eyes. His face, that wicked smile, his filthy words, those drunken eyes, his touches, that slap, those rounds of beating, everything began playing in-front of her eyes like a movie. The world around her began spinning, a painful lump threatened to form in her throat which she had a hard time in gulping, tears falling freely down her cheeks. 

Her phone fell from her hands, onto the mattress with a soft thud. She fisted the bedsheets tightly, till her knuckles turned white with the pressure. Her breaths became ragged, heart racing miles per second. Her body broke into cold sweat, dampening her kurta, while the temperature of the room seemed to suddenly cross the peak. She rubbed her legs against the mattress, as if trying to break free of some invisible clutches holding her back. She slowly began to loose her consciousness, her arms desperately flailing in the air, asking for a hand to help. Her broken, choked sobs echoed within the confines of the dark room. Her head was now spinning at a quicker rate. Like the hush of wings in a midnight forest, faint voices  stirred the air around her, too quiet to catch, yet impossible to ignore.

Her body felt like being trapped under pounds of weight. With a great difficulty, she managed to hold her upper body up, trying to support herself backwards over her elbows. The first time, her arms betrayed her, and she fell down. The second and the third time were not any different, but by the fourth time, she managed to drag herself to the drawer of the side cabinet. She fumbled with the handle and fell down on the floor with a thud in the process. Yet her body did not feel any pain as compared to the uncontrollable urge within her to escape her own body, her own skin.

Somehow, she took out a bottle of pills from the drawer, and gulped down two of them, forcing them down her throat. She threw the bottle across the room and hugged her knees closer to her chest while laying down on the floor.

1...2...3...4...5...

Ivara whispered brokenly. After around half an hour, as the medications began their work, she felt her heart rate slowing down. She could finally breathe evenly, and her chest didn't feel like carrying mountain over it. But her tears were not willing to let go oh her. 

Not having the strength to drag herself back to the bed, Ivara decided to leave herself on the cold, hard concrete floor for the rest of the night. As her panic attack subsided, her eyes began drooping in exhaustion. Soon, she surrendered herself to the mercy of sleep, letting her subconsciousness drag her to the realms of her nightmare, where the shadows lurked in the corners, like a hungry beast waiting for the right moment to pounce on its prey.

· · ──── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──── · ·

Soft hues of the morning sunlight, filtered through the curtains, fell across the figure lying on the bed over his stomach. His face was nuzzled in the sheets, raven black hair spread across his forehead. Those well sculpted muscles on his bare back twitched everytime he made a movement.

A husky groan left past his lips when the rays fell across his face, pulling him out of his comfort sleep. He brought the back of his palm to rub his face, then twisted his body to lay on his back and reached out for his phone.

After going through the latest updates for a few minutes, he tossed the device beside him and removed the duvet from his body. As soon as his feet touched the ground, his phone vibrated with a new notification. He turned to grab it, only to find the person to be his secretary.

Ms. Raichand:- Good Morning, Sir. Sir the Katarias, as expected by you, are now throwing tantrums. They're threatening to terminate their contract with our company if we don't comply with his conditions.

Him:- And what are his conditions?

Ms. Raichand:- The same as before. 20% of shares in Oberoi Vigilance Vanguard.

Dev smirked to himself. This was exactly what he wanted.

Him:- Tell him I accept his demands, and call him for a meeting in our warehouse today at 12.

Ms. Raichand:- On it.

Him:- And make sure he comes alone, no weapons, or guards. This would rather be a private conversation.

Ms. Raichand:- Will make sure of that.

Dev locked the screen and tossed the phone on the crumpled sheets. For the next 20 minutes, he finished his morning business in the bathroom, after which he hopped into his workout attire and made his way to the private gym at the Oberoi Mansion. He was greeted with the sight of his elder brother jogging on the treadmill.

“Good morning Bhai.” Abhimanyu smiled at him and wished him back, before freeing the treadmill and moving forward to the dumbell section.

“Good morning bhaiyas. I know you all missed me so much, so here I am.” Abhiraj exclaimed in a sing-song manner while sipping his protein shake, and hopped onto the resting bench at one corner.

“First of all, I would rather welcome death with open arms than miss you. And second, what the fuck is 'bhaiyas'!? Can't you just simply call us 'Bhai'?” Dev asked in annoyance.

“For your information, you're not just a single brother that I call you 'Bhai', so, yeah, I just save my time.” Abhiraj shrugged nonchalantly. Abhimanyu ignored the duo and put on his headphones.

Meanwhile Dev moved towards his punching bag. He wore the gloves, before positioning himself and aiming a punch at the bag. He threw punches after punches for about 20 minutes, before holding the bag intact and bending to hold his knees to catch his breaths.

“Vaise Bhai, aapko kaise ab tak koi ladki nhi mili?” Dev's face hardened. Memories of the past threatened to consume his mind, yet he tried to push them at a corner.

“Ya, I mean, Abhi is not wrong, Dev. It's high time you find yourself a good match too-”

A loud burst resonated within the room. The dumbbells fell from Abhimanyu's hands, while Abhiraj popped up from the bench. They both stared at the punching bag they had purchased just a week ago, now lying after it demise, opened and teared, its contents splattered all over the floor. Beside it, Dev panted roughly, his knuckles hurting from the impact of the tight punch he just threw.

“What the fuck, Bhai we just got it last week.” Abhiraj cried in disbelief.

“What was this, Dev?” Abhimanyu asked in a hard tone.

“It's not my fault if the punching bag couldn't bear my punches. And it's not that of a big deal, we can get a new one. It's not really of a good use if it can't stay intact for a few months.” Dev rolled his eyes and began walking towards the door.

“Oh and...” He suddenly turned around to his brothers, who watched him with their jaws hanging low, “if you really don't want such mishaps to occur again, don't put my name and girls in one sentence.” He warned before leaving the place and slamming the door shut behind him, causing the two to flinch. They both looked at each other, then at the punching bag, then again at each other.

“Inhe kya hua itna achanak se?” Abhiraj whispered in a daze, to which, Abhimnayu just shrugged in unawareness.

· · ──── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──── · ·

“We're here, Boss.” Dev's secretary Kashi, informed him.

Dev lifted his eyes from the screen of his laptop, then smirked to himself and placed his laptop beside him. He stepped out of his car and straightened his coat, nodding at Kashi who led the way towards where the CEO of Kataria enterprises, Mr. Dhananjay Kataria was seated.

“Oh, good morning Mr Dev Oberoi. It's a pleasure to be meeting you, though the circumstances could have been a bit better.” Dhananjay glanced awkwardly around the deep, dark room.

“Oh no, Mr Kataria, this place is absolutely perfect for our upcoming meeting.” Dev laughed.

“How so?” Dhananjay furrowed his eyebrows.

“Have a seat first. I don't like my guests facing any difficulties.” Dev motioned to the couch. They both took a seat.

“Uhm, about the demands-”

“Relax Mr Kapadia. Why in a rush? We have a lot of time.” Dev chuckled and leaned against the frame of the couch, supporting his body sideways with the armrest.

“Uhm, you might have time, but I have a whole company to look after. So...” Dhananjay trailed.

"Alright then." Dev leaned forward, interlaced his fingers and kept them on his thighs. “Tell me your demands."/”

A satisfied, greedy smile spread across Dhananjay's lips. “Well, my assistant must have already told your secretary about-”

“My secretary isn't the one handling the company, is she?” Dev interrupted him in between. Dhananjay laughed nervously. To say he was intimidated by the man's aura would be an understatement. The world knew Dev Oberoi as the iciest Oberoi of the entire family, someone with zero tolerance of bullshit, and someone having mercy as much as a drop of water in a draught land. At that time, he had hardly brushed those claims away as rumours.

Today he realized how wrong he was to do so. Because the man sitting in front of him could set the room on fire with just a lift of his gaze.

“You like what you see?” Dhananjay's thoughts were interrupted by Dev, whose smirk held a hint of pride.

“Sorry?”

“You were too busy staring at my face, I thought you might be questioning your sexuality.” Dhananjay's face turned red with embarrassment and he shifted in his place.

“Don't mind me, I was just lightening up the mood. You carry on.” Dev motioned for him to continue.

“So, as I was saying, we're ready to collaborate with Oberoi Vigilance Vanguard only when we're promised a 20% legal share in the company.” Dhananjay mentally praised himself for coming out quite confident.

“Dev smiled while looking down, then looked back up at the middle aged man. "I'm okay with it.”

Dhananjay visibly relaxed in his seat, a satisfactory grin spreading across his slightly wrinkled face.

“But before we move further, I guess you'll like to have a look at something.” Dev put forward his arm to his secretary standing adjacent to the couch, who forwarded him a leather blue file. Dev handed the file to Mr Kataria and leaned back onto the couch, ready to enjoy the drama about to be unfolded.

As expected by him, he watched colour draining off Dhananjay's face as he went through the file. His body broke into cold sweat, his fingers began shaking violently as he turned the pages one by one, reading every word twice to make sure he was not mistaken.

“What the fuck is this!?” Dhananjay yelled as he stood up from the couch hurriedly.

“Tone down that volume in front of me.” Dev warned in an icy tone.

“Fuck your 'volume'. What are these?” Dhananjay ignored him.

“What? These reports of your 'sneaky little business'?” Dev chuckled.

“What business? I'm not involved in any of these.” Dhananjay shook his head frantically, throwing the file back on the table, as if it burnt his hands.

“Those sweat beads covering your forehead say otherwise.” Dev tsked and stood up from the couch. He took his pleasurable time in removing his coat, straightening the invisible creases, and handing them down to Kashi.

“Black Market Gambling.” Dev spoke aloud. “An illegal gambling way too common in countries like India, China, and Russia. Where people build secret underground warehouses for illegal casinos and betting places, supported by world mafia leaders, and receiving cash payments, golds, and support in businesses in return of operating such buildings.” Dev began strolling around Dhananjay, his steps like those of a venomous predator, taking its leisurely time in spitting its poison over its prey and killing it bit by it.

“10 Black Market gambling sites  in Mumbai, Pune, Nagpur, Nashik, Aurangabad, Solapur, Kolhapur, Thane, Amravati, and Jalgaon, all in Maharashtra, under your name, getting it's protection by your company. The business has been going on for the last three years, even after the Indian Government's countless policies and laws against gambling. In return, your company is being provided with money in the form of Cryptocurrencies to avoid getting caught. Quite a good trick, Kataria.” Dev slowly clapped by the end of his speech, causing the victim to flinch hard in his place.

“Just imagine what will happen if the world gets to know about the real you. Well not that you're that famous among people, but still, imagine your family's reaction to this. What would that poor 20 year old girl think when she and her mother will see her father rotting day and night in the prison-”

Dhananjay made a poor attempt to save himself by snatching the file from the table and tearing those pages off, bit by bit, until they were nothing but crumpled pieces.

“There. Done and dusted. You can't prove me guilty now.” He panted roughly. Dev began laughing out loud at this.

“Oh my, poor guy, you're the dumbest of the dumb if you, even for a second, thought I'll bring you the original copies. God, you're so unintentionally funny.” He mocked.

“Where are the original copies, Oberoi? What do you want from me!?” Dhananjay gritted his teeth.

“Nothing, I'm about to hand you to the police so, any last wishes?” Dev took out his phone. Dhananjay screamed a 'no' and attempted to lung at him, but was caught by Dev's bodyguards who, on getting the signal from Kashi, barged in the room just in time.

“No. Leave me you asshole.” Dhananjay made poor attempts of escaping the iron-like clutches, wriggling and thrashing around like a fish brought out of it's water.

“Let's play a game, shall we Kataria?” Tears fell down Dhananjay's eyes and he slumped back defeated. Taking his silence as an approval, Dev continued

“So I'll ask you a few questions, and everytime you give me a right answer, you'll earn yourself 25% chances of survival, and everytime you give a wrong answer, I'll dial one of the numbers of the police helpline, if you give four wrong answers, you'll be counting your days in the prison. Shall we begin?”  Dhananjay had no other option than to grab onto the thinnest rope for his survival, so he nodded.

“Good, so now my first question, Who all are involved with you in this gambling shit?” Dev made himself comfortable on the couch.

“U...US, Ch...Chi...China, that's it?”

“That's it?”

“Hmm”

“Wrong answer. Pressed 1. Three more chances left.” Dev pressed 1 on the dialpad.

“No please, no. Russia is also involved.” Dev nodded satisfactorily.

“Good, next. How much have you earned in these two years?”

Dhananjay fell silent at this. There was no way he was about to answer that.

“Hurry Up, Kataria, we don't have a whole day. Unlike you, some people here having other, genuine businesses to attend.” No response.

“Fine you'll not speak up like this, I'm dialling 0 again—”

“Around $180 billion” Dhananjay spoke up hurriedly.

“Wrong, pressed 0.”

“No, I'm speaking the truth.” Dhananjay yelled while sobbing.

“Still wrong, pressed 0 again, just one more chance before the call gets connected.”

“Alright, fine! $356 billion! HAPPY!?” Dhananjay was cursing the moment he got the idea of joining hands with the Oberois.

“Good Job. Now the last job of the day before you'll be freed. I'm calling your secretary, and you're asking him to transfer those $356 billion from yours to my account, right now.” Dev asked Kashi to dial Dhananjay's secretary's number, and held the phone close to his mouth.

“Good Afternoon, Ms. Raichand boss has already reached—”

“Nikhil.” Dhananjay whispered.

“Boss? Are you okay? Do I need to come to you—”

“Im okay, Just listen to me. Tran....transfer $356 billion to Dev Oberoi from my account, right now as fast as you can.” Dhananjay muttered with urgency.

“But boss, such big amount might take time—”

“Just do as I said! My life is on stake you dumbfuck.” Dhananjay yelled on the phone. His secretary mumbled a terrified 'okay' and hung up the call.

Dev recieved the transaction notification within 5 minutes after the call. “Hmm, impressive speed.” Dev muttered in surprise.

“I've done what you asked me to, now leave me, and I hope we shall never cross paths again.” Dhananjay spat.

“Oh yeah, sure.” Dev ordered his guards to leave the man, who fell on the floor exhausted when they backed up.

“I'll make you pay for this.” Dhananjay gritted his teeth and glared at his predator, who smirked at him in response. He stumbled before standing straight and bolted towards the exit, freezing like ice when the door burst open and, in came, three men dressed in police uniforms. They didn't waste a minute and handcuffed him, holding his shoulders tightly to avoid letting him escape.

Dhananjay watched everything happening with widened eyes. He came out of his trance once he was trapped, and began wriggling his wrists.

“Wh...wha... what's going on?”

“You're under arrest Mr Kataria. Mr Dev Oberoi has lodged a complaint against you being involved in Black Market Gambling, and the poofs he has submitted against you are all correct. You'll have to spend the next 16 years of you life in prison.” One of the officers informed him.

Dhananjay looked at Dev in disbelief. “Yo...you lied to me! You cheated. You said you won't call the cops if I comply to your orders!” He bellowed.

“Sweetheart, I never said I was saying the truth.” Dev gave him a sickly-sweet smile, while spreading his thighs and relaxing in his seat, putting his arms on either side of the head part of the couch. “Fucktards like you don't deserve to roam out in the open. Enjoy your little trip.” Dhananjay shouted a series of curses one after another while the officers had a hard time carrying him to their van.

“Mr Oberoi?” Dev turned to Kashi. “The CEO is asking for your presence. His secretary Mr Singhania has just messaged.” Dev nodded and got up to leave, with Kashi following the trail.

· · ──── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──── · ·

“And why didn't you tell me this before, Dev?” Abhimanyu leaned his body against his work desk.

“Because you were too busy with your girlfriend.” Dev stated blatantly while drinking the orange juice.

“Uhmm, vo.. still...” Abhimanyu found himself robbed off words.

“Leave it na, Bhai, he's done with for now.”

“Yess, but what about the people's money?”

“I've asked Kashi to find out details about all those people who were cheated and give them back their money.” Abhimanyu smiled appreciatively and nodded his head.

The rest of the day was spent with Dev and Abhimanyu indulged in rounds of meetings, and conference with SecureEye for their future warehouse in Jodhpur.

Dev returned to his room at around midnight. This was not new for him, busying himself in work so he won't have to face loneliness. He tossed his bag on the couch, then removed his watch and tie and kept them on the vanity, before moving towards the bathroom.

He stripped himself off his clothes and jumped into the shower, the warm water cascading down his body soothing his stiff muscles instantly. The muscles of his well toned back and biceps twitched beneath his skin as he placed his hand on the tilled wall and supported his body.

Dev emerged out from the bathroom after 10 minutes, with his upper body naked and lower body wrapped in a white towel. He made his way to the closet, where he tossed the towel aside in the laundry basket. Picking a fresh pair of boxers and  grey sweatpants, he quickly wore them, then applied some moisturiser over his face.

He turned off the lights of the closet, and went towards his bed, throwing himself over the plush mattress and letting out a sigh of relief. Exhausted by the events of the day, he immediately closed his eyes to give himself the much needed rest. But sleep didn't seem to be in the mood to accompany him through the night.

Tossing and turning in his bed for a few hours due to a weird, restless feeling he didn't knew why he was getting, he sighed defeatedly and picked up his phone from the bedstand.

While going through his Instagram page, he found a post that made him clench his jaw in anger, well not on the post but on someone who had liked the post.

Ivara Shekhavat

His nemesis

His tormentor

His fingers reluctantly opened her profile page, his eyes almost softening an inch when they went across some of her old pictures where her smiles are full of love and beauty. Her ocean blue eyes, sparkling under the sunlight as she posed with a waterlily flower in one of the pics.

Her eyes. Those deep, blue eyes, holding an ocean full of mysteries in them. Somehow, he always found himself lost in those eyes, trying to unravel their secrets.

He now knew what those innocent eyes hid behind the façade of simplicity.

Betrayal, Disloyalty, deception.

“You're the exact reason why I hate women, Ms Ivara Shekhawat.” Dev's chuckle was hollow. “Because they're all like you, liers, cheaters, gold differs, always running behind money.” He spat in disgust.

“Pray that we never cross our paths again, because if we do...” He whispered in a low voice while glaring at the picture,

“Then hell itself will be forced to show its presence on Earth with my wrath.”