Kiaan

******

I was expecting the daily routine when I stepped inside my house. I waited to be welcomed by my wife in a different lehenga like every other night, to be showered by flower petals, and then the chanting of her 'Pati Dev'. While that had been a daily occurrence, I was not underestimating her at all. I knew today could be worse, considering I made her feel vulnerable in the office. She had to let her guard down around me, even if it was for a slight moment, so it would not be shocking for me if she just got a brick and threw it at my face. I kept waiting for her, moving my gaze to scan the area around, spotting from which area my little hellion would appear. Strangely, while I waited for mayhem, I was welcomed with silence. The weather was terrible outside, thunderstorms had been roaring for hours, and in contrast to that, there was a pin drop silence inside. I kept waiting for her as the minutes passed by, but Simran did not come.

Perhaps she slept, I thought.

With light steps, I walked in and headed straight towards our bedroom. Shockingly, it was the same silence that welcomed me. There was no sight of my wife, nor that skeleton. Earlier, this silence used to feel refreshing, but only a few days with my wife and I had become accustomed to her chaos now. This silence felt creepy now, almost reminding me of the silent battles I had struggled with and conquered over. For some reason, ever since the weather turned into something monstrous in the evening, I had been feeling restless and suffocated, and I hated that feeling. While no weather ruled my mood, that day still felt heavy. I ached to release the pressure in my chest to breathe fine and planned to go for a death race that would help me be back to normal.

I walked into the walk-in closet, loosening my tie. Just then, an image long buried in the black hole of my darkest memories surfaced. I could feel that hand around my neck again, choking me, cutting off every tie to oxygen. The memory was so fresh that I struggled to breathe. With my breath hitching and my hand shaking, I tried to remove my tie. Flashes of red and black flickered in front of me. I could see those masked men standing around me.

Fuck! Not this again.

The pressure on my neck increased, and my vision blurred into the scene of that night twelve years ago. I blinked, but nothing made it fade. I pushed forward, struggling to free myself from the clasp of those dark memories. The shackled beast inside me roared, and I set it free. It drove me to thrash things here and there, to create chaos, to pour my anger into whatever I could lay my hands on. But nothing stopped the flashes.

I could hear those evil laughs, sweat dripping down my forehead. I stumbled, almost fell, but the vanity in my way did not let me fall. My hands gripped the vanity table for support. And then, a fragrance sweet and fiery, vanilla laced with amber, reached my nostrils.

My wife.

It was my wife's fragrance. She owned that smell. It lingered, enveloping me, and her thoughts consumed my mind. Slowly, I began to return to myself. The black hole of memories receded, and when the flash was gone and my vision cleared, I exhaled. I coughed hard, as if I had truly been choked. My head felt light, and I slumped to the floor, my back resting against the vanity where Simran's things were kept.

When my gaze swept around, I noticed the chaos I had created. Things thrashed, broken. It wasn't the mess or who would clean it that bothered me. What unsettled me was the thought of Simran seeing it. I didn't want her to look at this wreckage and assume I was a deranged beast.

But then... that's exactly what I was.

A deranged beast.

What if I scare her away? The thought crossed my mind, worrying me. But at the same time, it had me more determined about how I was not going to let it happen.

No, I would not let her leave me, even if it meant I would have to use my beastly methods to keep her with me.

Simran and I belonged together, in life, in heaven if such a place existed for us, and even in hell, which I ruled.

When my breathing had finally settled back to normal, I got on my feet. Simran had not come into the room. I was sure she must have heard the sounds of me breaking things, yet there was no sign of her. There was a possibility she got scared and chose not to come to me because of that, but this was Simran. She was not the kind to show me her fear so easily. Even if she was scared, she would never admit it; rather, she would fight me with it. My curiosity about where she was began to turn into concern. The more time passed without me seeing her, the more agitated and restless I became. I knew one glimpse of her would fix whatever chaos my mind had drowned in and heal me in a heartbeat. Desperate for that sight and the need to be just near her and hear her voice, I made my way toward the dinner table.

Shayla and a female staff member were setting the dinner table. I assumed it was Simran who ordered her. Simran never skipped meals and had been making sure I was the one who fed her. She might have thought that annoyed me, but feeding her was the best part of my day, where she keenly listened to my office matters as if she could understand them so well.

When Shayla and the other staff noticed me, they greeted me. I did not waste time greeting them because I needed to be sure Simran was fine.

"Shayla, did you see my wife?"

"Yes, Sir, she was in the ballet room when she asked me to cook dinner."

What did she mean by asking her to cook?

While I did not want Simran to waste her time in the kitchen, she had been stubbornly cooking ever since she stepped into the house. Even when she got me lunch, I knew it was her who cooked that delectable meal for me. Something was wrong, really fucking wrong.

"When was it when she told you that?" I asked, and panic began to settle in me.

"Three hours ago."

Shit!

She hadn't seen her in three hours. It didn't feel right at all. I instantly dialed her number. The phone rang, but she didn't pick up, and I couldn't hear her ringtone either.

I raced toward the ballet room, my heart palpitating. When I stepped inside, it felt empty, devoid of her presence. I checked every corner, but she was nowhere to be found. As I called her number again and again, she didn't answer. The ringing drove me closer to madness as my mind raced through all the worst possible scenarios she could be in.

"Simran...." I shouted while I looked for her in every other room she could have been in. Every other room, including the ballet room, seemed lifeless as if no source of hope or light entered that room, as if their soul was sucked out from there. I raked my hair in frustration.

Was it my fault she was gone?

It had to be.

I fucked up again.

I cursed myself, fucking berated myself for making her feel vulnerable. I did not want her to be that overwhelmed for her to vanish like that. But was it really me, or was someone else involved?

"Simran..." I yelled out her name as I looked for her in another room with the thoughts of what made her go, how much hurt she was, and how to find her as soon as possible.

I walked out of the room in a hurry, ready to dash into another when Shayla and the other staff looked at me with worry.

"Sir, what's wrong? Is something wrong with Ma'am?" Shayla asked. My fury knew no bounds at that moment, for I hired her for Simran, and yet she failed at it.

"You had one fucking job, but I see you failing at it quite efficiently. I told you to take care of Simran, didn't I?" I yelled, and she flinched but kept a guilt-stricken face. I did not care about her guilt. She could die for all I care, I just needed my wife safe and sound.

"yes...of ...of course..."

"Then where the hell is she? If anything happens to her, you won't be spared..."

"We will look for her," she said. I just walked past her and dialled Enzo's number while going to the office room on the ground floor, which was in the west direction at the farthest corner.

"Hello, Enzo, find my wife. You know what would happen if there was even a single scratch on her."

"I will find her," He replied resolutely before I hung up and sprinted inside the office, which was a library as well.

The room was lightly dim, and the door was strangely half-closed. I looked around, through the alleys of the bookshelves, every section, but she was not there. I called her number again, checking every spot, only to hear the buzzing of something. It seemed as if something was vibrating, and it stopped the moment the call disconnected. I called her number once more and followed the vibrating sound. I knew it was her phone. It was in the room. As I followed the sound, I found her phone thrown near the foot of the L-shaped table. I walked forward, and as I bent down to pick it up, I saw a piece of cloth peeking from under the empty hollow space of the table. It was the same skirt Simran had been wearing when she visited me. My heart raced as I looked under the table, and the sight shattered me.

Simran was there, hiding.

She was scooted into one corner, under the table. Her head was buried between her knees, and she held them tightly. She was trembling. I ached to reach for her, but didn't want to scare her. I was relieved she was home, but wrecked to find her like that.

"Firefly..." I called. No response.

"Sweetheart, look at me..." Still nothing. I sank to the floor, knees to the ground. Slowly, I extended my hand toward her. I gently placed my hand over hers, and she shrieked, scooting farther away. Her eyes were red and swollen; pure, immense fear lived in them.

"Hey, hey, it's me..." I tried to make her understand it was me and not some stranger.

She sniffled and hugged her knees tighter. I wanted to kill whoever had done this to her, but first I needed to make sure she was safe and not hurt.

"It's me, love..." I called softly, my heart aching at the way she recoiled from my touch. I knew I had to get her out of there before her condition deteriorated. Waiting wasn't an option, so I decided to pull her out. I grabbed her arm and said quietly, "I'm gonna pull you out, okay? Will you comply?" She sobbed and shook her head. Her sob hit me like a bullet straight through the heart. The urge to start a bloodbath rose in me, but I forced my thirst for blood and revenge down because my firefly needed me.

"You have to come out, sweetheart. No one will hurt you, I promise."

"No, no..." she mumbled, hiccuping.

She was yet to resist me, but I pulled her out in an instant with force. She screamed in fear again, but I had her close to me now, my arms wrapped around her. I expected her to scuffle, but what she did next shocked me. She buried her face in my chest, clutched me back, and started crying. My hold on her grew tighter, more secure.

"I'm here. I'm here. No one's gonna hurt you," I murmured as I continued to hold her in my arms.

"I see them," she said between her cries.

I went on high alert, my senses heightened for any potential danger.

"Who do you see?"

"The masked men. They're here. They were chasing me... I... I..." The thunder roared, and she screamed.

The masked men.

She saw them? What did she mean she saw them? Did they find her?

No, that wasn't possible. They couldn't find her. I had hidden her so well that they couldn't even catch her shadow without my will. But there was someone out there for sure, even if not the same people.

"Make them go away... ple... please. Scare them, please." She pleaded, trying to hide herself completely. I kissed her hair and let her sink into me, as if submerging into me would give her the peace she had lost. I was no source of calm, yet somehow she was trying to find it within me.

"There are no monsters here, firefly, but me. Your beast scared them already." I murmured, leaving another kiss on her hair as I recalled how, twelve years ago, I killed men double my age. I didn't hesitate then to pick up a weapon to save my girl, and I wouldn't hesitate now.

"They are here... they came for me." She kept mumbling, her voice getting lower and lower, as if whispering now. Her body felt hot under my hands, burning, and then suddenly her voice stopped. I pulled her back to look at her, and her body was limp in my arms. She had fainted.

My worries intensified, and I instantly called the one person who could help: my friend, Xavier. I couldn't allow just any doctor to see her; the only one I could trust with her was him. Xavier specifically worked for the anti‑mafia organization I was part of, and that's how we aces had bonded with him.

"Hello, Xav, I need you at my place ASAP."

As soon as the call with Xavier ended, I called Enzo, ordering him to dig into everyone who had met Simran and to find out about the masked men she had mentioned.

******

Enzo had found out Simran hadn't encountered any masked men, though she did have a brief encounter with a stranger at a café she and Niti had visited. While Enzo was looking into this man, I had already understood that she had some kind of vision or nightmare. Something had triggered her to see the flash from our past.

Xavier arrived within half an hour. In the meantime, while waiting for him, I had laid Simran on our bed, tried to wake her, and placed a cold, wet cloth on her forehead to bring her temperature down, all while rehashing one specific conversation from our past.

I see monsters.

Where are you?

Under the table.

Stay there, okay? I'll be there soon and scare them away.

The conversation played in my head on loop as I sat there holding her hand tightly while Xavier examined her.

"What exactly happened?" Xavier's question put a halt to the loop in my head.

"She was scared when I found her. Her temperature was significantly high, and she fainted." He nodded. He pulled out the injection from her bag and filled it with paracetamol.

"She skipped meals recently?" He asked as he injected her with the medicine. I kept running my thumb over her knuckles. I knew how much she hated injections, and even though she was unconscious,  I hated that she had to go through all of that.

"Kiaan, has she been skipping any meals?" My attention was completely on how that injection went inside her veins, and I lost track of his question, so he had to ask again.

"No, she has been eating fine." After he was done with his checkup and the medication, he told me the medicines she needed to take for a day or two.

"See, if I talk about physical health, everything seems to be fine, except that some stress has her temperature spiked up. This does not seem to be triggered by the weather, as you mentioned how she was fine this morning."

"When will she wake up?"

"Don't worry, she is not in danger, just in deep sleep. Let her body recover, and she will open her eyes when the medicine has done its job. Perhaps in a couple of hours. My best suggestion is to let her sleep till morning if she does not wake up before that. By then, her temperature will decrease too, and her body will have recovered."

There was a thin line appearing on Xavier's head. I could tell he was running his head in some other direction, too.

"Like you mentioned about what had happened, it does not appear to be a mere physical issue, which you, of course, are already aware of, so obviously that needs much more attention." I knew the direction he was pointing. Simran needed someone else, too, perhaps a shrink. But I was not going to push her into the torturous process until I was sure what she was dealing with. While seeing a therapist could help her, it would break her completely in the process, and I would not push her into that hell until I was sure she actually needed that.

"By the way, sorry for not attending the wedding. I really missed the drama, didn't I?" He asked, a gentle smile playing on his lips.

"Some drama," I replied with my half smile.

"I wish there was bloodshed too." Xavier himself was a doctor, but blood was his favorite sight. He worked with us aces as as a doctor, but whenever situations demanded he had turned out to be a dangerous threat to the mafia. His hands were equally stained with blood.

"Take care of her. I will see you guys soon." Xavier said before he left.

Simran's state did not seem like it happened out of the blue.

What had triggered her?

Was it me?

Was it the first time she saw those masked men?

Was it a nightmare that woke her up and scared her, or were they hallucinations?

Fuck! My head began to throb like someone was hitting my skull with a hammer. The questions began gnawing at me, and I needed an answer to all of that at that very moment only.

I could take her to see Dr.Phil, for he was the ultimate solution, but it meant opening a gate that was not yet to be opened. It was too dangerous. It was like pushing her into a jungle of predators without any armour. I did not want this for her. I want her to remember me, but remembering me meant remembering the darkest truth of her life, and while she needed to know it all, I could not risk dumping everything at her at once. Seeing Dr.Phil was the only way out, but for that, I needed to prepare her. First, I had to make sure she was ready. I had to make her ready, and for that I needed to talk to someone who could answer all those niggling questions right away.

I knew only someone from her family could help. I couldn't reach out to anyone directly except for one person, my sure-shot bet. Without hesitation, I dialed her number. As expected, she answered.

"Hello, Sonia."

"Hi." Her voice was weaker than usual, almost faint.

"I have some questions." I didn't waste a second.

"Okay." The monosyllable was flat, and that told me what I needed to know. She wasn't alone.

"Is someone from the family there with you?"

"Yes."

"Fine. Then just answer me with a yes or no. Understood?"

"Okay."

"Has Simran been experiencing anything unusual lately? Did she ever mention nightmares, hallucinations, anything that sort of?"

"Yes."

"Did it happen frequently?"

Then came her instant response, "Yes."

Fuck! How did I not know about it?

She took a pause. Then her tone shifted quickly, too quickly. "Neela, I'll send the documents by mail. I'm having dinner, I'll update you after that."

Sonia was smart. She had spun a lie on the spot, hiding our conversation in plain sight. But I was desperate, hungry for answers, and patience was a luxury I didn't have. However, she did not make me wait long and texted me only after two minutes of hanging up the call.

Sonia -> Sorry Jiju, I could not have replied with the elders around. They don't want me to talk to you or Simmi. About your question, yes, before Aunty died, Simmi had become restless because of some nightmares. She was really scared. It started when she came back from London after Samaira Di and Namit Jiju's reception. Even on the day of the accident, Simmi and Aunty had a huge fight. Simmi wanted to see a therapist, but Aunty did not want her to. To be honest, Aunty was acting a bit strange that day.

Three years? She was having those flashes for three years? And I pushed her away, just to protect her from those fucking glimpses of our dark past?

Sonia -> Is Simmi okay?

Kiaan -> She is doing fine. But could have been doing great if the so-called elders had not dared to hurt her. But rest assured, I will make sure each and every one out there who ever inflicted pain on my woman sheds tears of blood.

Sonia -> I miss her.

I knew those who did not have a say in whatever happened genuinely suffered. But I believe in fighting for what you want and what you think you truly deserve. If Sonia needed to be with Simran, she would have to fight. She would have to come out of her shell and take my wife's stand. I was going to make sure anyone who claimed to be my wife's well-wishers took her stand. And if anyone fails in doing so, then I was going to make sure they never see her. I would not even let them come near her shadow.

Sonia -> Please don't contact anyone from the family except me. Adya Bhabhi is the only one who believes you're right for Simmi, but even she can't be contacted openly, otherwise her marriage will suffer, since Ishaan Bhaiya doesn't like you. I'll tell you everything you need to know, but please don't contact anyone else.

She was worried about the mayhem that might be caused if I tried contacting anyone else from her family, while I had been patiently waiting for exactly that.

Kiaan -> Don't worry, I won't do anything.

Not Yet.

I put my phone aside as I again clasped my wife's hand. I brought her hand to my lips and kissed her fingers. Each contact of her skin with my lips burnt my soul, put fire to my heart, and slapped me with the realization about how fucking wrong I was to push her away from me three years back.

"I hurt you to protect you from something that had already found you." She looked so peaceful, but that was not the peace I wanted for her. This was a torturous peace, not the one who was going to soothe her.

"What did you do, firefly? To yourself, to me?" 

My ruination started the first time she wrote me a letter twelve years ago. While I knew now how it ruined me, I would still choose her in this and every other universe, knowing well the consequences I would have to bear.

"No sinner is greater than me, firefly. Still, I would beg for your forgiveness. I will make everything serene and beautiful for you, I promise. If beauty shuns me, I'll steal it for you. If peace pushes me out of her door, I will grab it by its neck and bring it on its knees for you."

The entire night, I lay beside her, speaking softly while listening to the rhythm of her heartbeat. I did nothing but hold her hand in mine. I was a beast, yes, but not a predator. I would never put her through anything inconvenient. In the past, I had done things for her to hate me, in the presumption that I was protecting her. But not anymore. I would not mask my real self from her, no matter how difficult it gets.

******

Simran

******

[DAY 6]

******

Sometimes all you need is a hot cup of coffee and a cheese-overloaded burger to uplift your mood. And I really needed to uplift mine. So I was sitting in a cafe, happily, humming a song while the servers turned the cafe upside down trying to make the best cheeseburger just for me. I already had my coffee, and it was time for the burger. In a few seconds, they presented a beautiful, jumbo burger in front of me. Cheese dripped from inside, yet it did not appear to be messy. It was just how I liked it. My mouth watered at the delectable dish. The servers urged me to take a bite. Excitedly, I was about to pick the burger up, but it vanished from my plate. My eyes widened in shock, and tears blurred my vision. I was way too excited and hungry to eat, and now the only food that could satiate my hunger was gone. I looked up at the servers, teary-eyed, and then began to vanish too. Slowly, everything around me began to disappear, the chairs, tables, people around me, even the cafe, and now I was sitting in an empty room. I was trapped in the four walls with nothing around, and my stomach growled.

"I want a cheeseburger." I sniffled.

"Sure." I heard a masculine voice reply to me. I looked around, but there was no one who could have replied to me. With that, the room became dark and then darker until nothing was visible. That was when I realized my eyes were shut and that nothing disappeared; rather, I was waking up from my dream. And that voice, the familiar masculine velvety voice that was soothing to my soul, belonged to no one else but my husband.

I was reluctant to open my eyes because I felt pretty worn out, as if I had done physical labour, but my hunger did not let me sleep for a long time. My stomach growled again, and my eyes parted from sleep. The sight in front of me surpassed any spectacular sight. What I witnessed was a rare scenario, and I wanted to bask in everything I was seeing. A beautiful, gorgeous, handsome man was lying beside me. His hair disheveled, the buttons of his shirts undone, and his muscular body peeked from inside. His eyes filled with so much concern that they would just melt anyone.

"Morning." My heart flipped the moment he spoke. I wanted to reply, but no word came out. I was simply watching the mesmerizing view as if it were straight out of my fairy tale. Though we were not too close, but neither too far, unlike every other night. There was no skeleton, no pillow between us. Not just that, my hand was clasped in his, tightly bound. I saw our fingers intertwined, and I tried to recall the memories of how we ended up like that. I could tell it was morning and that I slept through the night, and it was another day, but I could not recall having dinner or sleeping. I was still in the same clothes from yesterday, and he was in his work clothes from yesterday. I tried putting pressure on my head for any recollection, and then I noticed him taking our intertwined hands closer to his lips. He pecked the back of my palm, his eyes still filled with the same concern, and it felt as if my heart would explode.

Who is this man?

Why is he being this gentle to me?

"Hey," he said. Our intertwined hands now rested on his chest.

"Hi." My voice came out meek. I was not sleepy anymore, but definitely a little more exhausted than usual.

"How are you feeling?" I was feeling a lot more than usual, but I could not name all of that except that I was definitely way too tired to even move. I could hardly even talk.

"Can you move your body?" 

 I shook my head. He slowly unwove his fingers from mine, reluctantly, and then sat up. He pressed his palm on my forehead gently, and a second later he said, "You don't seem to have a fever."

Then, slowly, I recalled what had happened. After coming back home yesterday, I headed straight to the bedroom. The weather was terrible, and it was triggering me. I switched rooms, hoping I wouldn't hear the monstrous thunder and the violent splattering of rain, but nothing helped. And then I started seeing flashes of my nightmares, appearing right in front of me. I got so scared that I ran and locked myself in the first room I came across: the office space. I hid under the table. It was instinctive, reaching for that place to hide when I could have easily gone somewhere else, maybe the alley between two bookshelves. The masked men kept appearing in front of my vision and I was so scared I shut my eyes, hugging my knees to my chest.

"Let me help you get up," Kiaan said softly as he snaked one hand under my head and the other around my shoulder. Gently, he helped me sit up too.

"Do you remember anything from last night?"

I remembered everything, but how could I tell him? He would think I had gone crazy. Frankly speaking, I was thinking the same. I had never witnessed characters from dreams appearing in real life, chasing someone. But it happened to me. 

How was I supposed to deal with it?

"I found you passed out in the library, and I brought you here. Though the doctor said you were fine and that you needed rest. What happened yesterday?"

"I don't remember." I lied. I needed time to process that myself, so I just lied. Kiaan looked unconvinced, but he did not pester me. He gave me a nod and then got off the bed.

"Go, freshen up. Meet me in the kitchen in an hour, okay?"

"Don't order me," I mumbled, narrowing my eyes at him. I was hardly fine, and he was making me meet him in the kitchen. He sure was an idiot to think I would cook for him in that state.

"I will."

I fumed and said, "I won't come."

Raising his brows, a smirk appeared on his face as he replied with, "Never said anything about coming."

I opened my mouth to retaliate, but then shut it instantly. I had nothing to counter him, and then I was too exhausted to pick a fight with him. But he had grated my nerves enough that I could not be a silent spectator either. So, I picked up a pillow and threw it at him, but he caught it on time.

"An hour, firefly. If I don't see you there, I won't mind scooping you in my arms and taking you there myself." He left the room, and I was frustrated.

"Ughhh...Beast...Jerk...Butterhead, bullhead..." I cussed him out.

"I heard you." He yelled from outside. Surely, he had an owl's hearing; otherwise, how would he hear me when I had not even shouted?

"Good, I wanted you to," I replied.

I lay back again, not wanting to listen to him. I wasn't scared of his threats, but my stomach growled, annoying me. Reluctantly, I got up, did the morning chores, and took a quick shower. Wearing a fresh pair of pajamas, I headed straight for the kitchen.

I knew Kiaan's ego was going to get a boost seeing me, because obviously, he would think I came there at his order, which was far from the truth. I went there because I was way too famished. I had to be an obedient wife to satiate my hunger, and also because I didn't have the energy to fight. And if he was going to order me to cook, I was going to hit him with a frying pan.

Shock wasn't what I felt when I found the kitchen devoid of his presence. I mean, what would a beast do inside a kitchen? I felt the moment he stepped into one, the kitchen would be up in flames. Shayla and another staff member were there, the ones who always assisted Shaya in cooking. They hadn't seen me yet.

"Good morning. What do we have for breakfast?"

"Good morning, Ma'am," both Shayla and the other staff member greeted me.

"Breakfast? Sir ordered me not to cook for you, as he is cooking." Shaya left me too confused with her words.

"Sir... as in my husband sir?" I asked. She nodded.

"He said that?" I asked again for clarification. Shayla nodded once more, smiling, and said, "He is waiting for you."

It was impossible to believe. I remembered Di had told me once that Kiaan didn't even know how to boil water. What was this new game again?

"Where is he waiting?" I asked because, as far as I could see, he wasn't in the kitchen like he had said.

"In the kitchen." Shayla seemed to be talking about something weird. I mean, if Kiaan was in the kitchen, how could I not see him?

"We are in the kitchen right now. Where is he?"

Smiling, she clarified, "No, not this one. The other kitchen. It's in the east wing hallway of the first floor."

Another kitchen? How had I not known about this?

But then, how would I have known that? I had never explored the entire mansion and was only familiar with a few rooms. Shayla stared at me, probably reading my confused look, and asked, "You don't know about the east wing?"

I gave an awkward smile and replied confidently, "Of course I do. I just don't go there often, so I tend to forget."

"The hallway is beside the guest room. We aren't allowed to visit that hallway."

Now that was strange. Why were the staff not allowed?

I was curious, but I did not let my curiosity ruin the image of my perfect relationship with my husband in front of the staff. I did not want them to think Kiaan and I weren't close enough that I had no clue about his life. The mansion was another deal altogether.

"Since we are not allowed, could you please tell us if there really is a panther there?" the other female staff whispered. Her eyes widened with curiosity. While I had no clue, I was confident Kiaan did not own a panther. Sure, he had the capability to keep a panther, and I would not be surprised if he got one or two or even three one day.

"Keeping wild animals requires a license and way too much maintenance," I replied, smiling.

"There is no wild animal, Dahlia. It's just Sir and Ma'am's private space," Shayla added.

"Oh." Dahlia seemed genuinely relieved. Perhaps the rumor or assumption of a panther's presence had scared her, and now she was happy with the news.

Now, without wasting any moment, I went to the east wing hallway of the first floor. Though there were far too many rooms, the door to only one was wide open. That was the last room situated at my twelve o'clock. The aroma of cheese embraced me with love, and my mouth watered, this time for real and not in a dream.

Feeling a little on edge, I walked into another kitchen.

For the second time since I woke up, I was welcomed with a sight so gorgeous that for a moment I forgot how to breathe. My husband was in casual clothes, his back turned to me, and he was actually cooking. The scent of delicious food wrapped around me. I walked with slow, deliberate steps, not making a sound at all. But then I heard him say, "Don't tell me you haven't explored this house till now."

I was busted. Even with his back facing me, he knew I was there.

"I did..." He turned to me, a spatula in his hand, which he set down on the plate by the kitchen counter. The kitchen was small, but I liked the cozy vibe it carried. Still, my husband made it feel smaller, as if he consumed the entire space. He tugged the apron over his head, and somehow, he looked sexy doing it.

Wait! Since when did taking off an apron become sexy?

Simran, hold your shit together. Don't lose it. It's just an apron. It's just your husband.

"If you have already explored this mansion... then..." He kept his words calculated, slow, as he took measured steps toward me. "...tell me, where is the torture room?"

He has a torture room?

He is a beast, of course, he would have a torture room.

"In the basement, of course," I replied with a nervous laugh, stepping back with every step he took closer. My guess had to be right, because no one does their dirty jobs out in the open; they do it in secret. And the basement was the viable option.

When a playful smirk appeared on his face, I realized what he was doing, and I stopped taking steps back. He stopped too, only a foot apart. I crossed my arms and fixed him with a stare.

"You are messing with me. There is no such room."

He shrugged casually.

Jerk!

Suddenly, his face turned somber, and so did the environment around us. I knew what was coming, and I dreaded that. I did not want to talk about the previous day. I was not ready to acknowledge it myself what had happened, then how could I be comfortable in even sharing, especially with him.

"What happened yesterday?" As expected, he asked me what I was scared of.

"I hit my head and was already dizzy, so I fainted." I lied casually. Though I knew it was way too obvious for the state he would have found me in, I knew it was not very pleasing and would make it apparent it was way more than what I was telling him.

"Stop lying, Simran. Tell me why you were hiding there? Who was scaring you?"

How could I tell him that the characters from my nightmares had turned into reality? That I saw masked men from my nightmares standing right in front of my eyes, chasing me? How was I supposed to explain that the thin line between reality and nightmare was blurring for me, that I might lose my mind soon and end up going crazy?

Leave all of that. How could I even rely on him enough to admit that I had been having nightmares for three goddamn years, nightmares for which I had been taking medicines that now seemed to have stopped working?

No. I couldn't tell my secret to the man who had hurt me time and again. I couldn't hand him the key to my vulnerability.

"Firefly, say it..." He was desperate, as if my silence was torture for him.

But who gave him the right to be desperate? I didn't. Maybe he just needed another reason to hurt me, and this incident was an opportunity he didn't want to miss, like the opportunist he was.

"You don't get to play the role of a doting husband when all you have ever done is hurt me. You are a beast, remember?"

I was harsh. Way too harsh. But I was shielding myself from more pain. I was scared, really, really scared, but not dumb enough to bare myself in front of him.

"I know I have done things I shouldn't have, and I will beg for your forgiveness after I tell you everything you need to know, everything I have been hiding from you all this time."

What he said sounded tempting, but I had firsthand experience of how manipulative he was. I had watched him fool our families, making them believe in some kind of love story we didn't even have. And now he was talking about what: forgiveness?

Did I even consider forgiving him? To be honest, I had no idea. I didn't know. I didn't want to know. All I knew was that troubling him daily was what I would prefer over anything else.

"What if I never forgive you?" I asked. Sure, he would now go berserk and show his true colors, but the color he showed now wasn't even in the palette of his character.

"Then, I'll beg." 

My breath hitched when I caught the honesty in his eyes, the way his voice carried the essence of truth.

No. He was lying. He couldn't be speaking with a sane mind. The Kiaan I knew would never say something like that, especially when there was no one around to show off to.

"This isn't a fairy tale, Kiaan, where a prince sweeps a commoner away with charm and good looks. This is real life. You made me lose my spot as a soloist, shattered my dreams, broke my heart, humiliated me, treated me so terribly that I..." I finally burst. Tears clouded my eyes as every memory of what he did to me surfaced. I finally let it all out, confronted him, and a sob tore itself from my throat. I was fine when he broke my heart, but he went ahead and shattered my dreams right before my eyes, and I could do nothing.

"I wonder... I wonder what you could possibly say or do now to even make me consider forgiveness." I looked away, blinking rapidly, but it was no use. The tears had already escaped in streams. My eyes were burning, and so was my soul.

"Firefly, please... I need one chance... please..."

While I was still hurting, still in tears, I could feel my temper slipping.

How could he do so much to hurt me and then conveniently try to apologize?

Did he really think that destroying someone's life and then asking for an apology, expecting forgiveness, was all just a piece of cake?

The rage inside of me took a darker turn, and it made me challenge his pride.

"You said you would do anything for my forgiveness?"

"Yes. I'll do anything for you."

"Fine, then."

"KNEEL."

I didn't believe my own words. I was trying to wound his pride, to make him reveal the real him, not the façade he'd built for the world. I knew what I was doing, and I also predicted the consequences. I was expecting an outburst from him, maybe some nasty words thrown at me, maybe a dent in my self-respect by him. But instead of his anger, I witnessed something I had barely dared to dream of.

Kiaan Chauhan, the beast the world feared, was on his knees, in front of me.

It wasn't the first time he had done this. At our wedding, he had gone down on one knee in front of our families and the world, asking for my hand, pretending to be in love with me. But this time, it was different. It was real. It wasn't a performance, a game, or for anyone else; it was only for me. There was no one else around. He could have hurt me, yelled, unleashed his beastly ways... yet here he was, on his knees, for me. He could easily have shown the side he'd been making me witness for three years, the side that displayed his disgust and hate toward me. But the man on his knees now held no trace of abhorrence in his eyes for me, only pure devotion.

Yes, Devotion.

Either I had actually gone crazy because of the incident last night, or this was not real, and the thin line between my reality and fantasy had dissolved. 

How could this be real? How could Kiaan beg for my forgiveness?

"Please..." he pleaded again. My heart broke, and tears kept streaming out. If I was not wrong, I could see him mirroring the tears in his eyes too. I took a step toward him until I stood really, really close.

"Kiaan..." I whispered his name, still not believing he was on his knees for me.

"I don't want you to forgive me. I just want one chance to explain myself. Forgiving me will be your choice."

"You're giving me a choice?" I asked softly, dumbfounded.

Since when did he start giving importance to my opinions and point of view?

Since when did he lay options for me?

"I am no one to give you your choice. It's yours solely."

He looked needy, desperate. His pleading eyes gazed up at me with so much concern that I was left speechless and vulnerable. It hurt to see him like that. His messy hair flew about, making a mess, but he looked like a gorgeous mess. I ached to run my hand through it gently.

Could I not forgive him and still run my hands through his hair?

I didn't restrain myself. I slid one hand into his hair and cupped his cheek with the other. He pressed his cheek more firmly into my palm. The need in him for me was so apparent that it scared me. I stroked his hair and he stared at me with so much concern, so much feeling: love.

Love? No. That was not love. Kiaan hated me.

And suddenly I was terrified.

"You're not the Kiaan I know. You're someone new. You're not him," I said as I pulled back my hands and took steps away.

"Simmi..." he called, his voice heavy with need.

"Stop it. Stop acting like someone you're not." I hurried toward the kitchen exit, but then he grabbed my arm and pulled me back. He was on his feet now.

"Get away..." I tried pushing him off, but he didn't budge.

"Get away from me..." I yelled, crying, but he stood strong, completely encasing me in his muscular arms.

"I said get away..." I shouted at the top of my lungs, but he never loosened his hold.

"I can't let you go."

"You are overwhelming me, scaring me... I..." My words got trapped in my throat, which was hurting now. I couldn't speak any further.

Kiaan was too obstinate. He wasn't leaving me, not budging, just holding me tighter in his arms. I tried pushing him, slapped his chest multiple times with both of my hands, but his build was monstrous. He wasn't affected, not even once. Eventually, I gave in. I didn't have the energy left to fight him. My hands slipped down from his chest. My body was weak too, starved of food and water. Unable to fight anymore, I rested my head against his chest and cried. There were so many reasons to cry, but I couldn't articulate even one. He stroked my hair, kneading it gently, his other arm holding me steady by my lower back.

"I am scared," I whispered. I was scared of him, of this new version of him that had even more power over me.

"Then let me feed on your fears," he said, and I felt his lips brush against my hair. I closed my eyes, taking in the warmth of his body.

"You're right that I'm a beast," he murmured, "but I'm much more to you than a mere beast."

I knew if I opened my eyes, I would see that pleading again in those magnetic eyes, and I would give in. It was Kiaan, after all, the only man I had ever caught feelings for. My heart thudded faster in my chest, as if racing for its life. His hold on me was that of a beast, overprotective, making me captive. But I liked how secure it made me feel, how... belonged it had me feeling.

"Tell me where I should start from," he murmured.

"Start what?" I asked back.

"To remove your fears. Speak about your fears. Say it. Just talk to me."

"Why?"

"So that I can make them go away."

It was a game, right?

Why would a beast who was after my life want to tear fear away from me?

Eventually, it made me drowsily open my eyes. I took a deep breath of exhaustion as I tried to pull myself out of that forced hug, and this time he let me go. But he didn't just leave me. He pulled a chair out, made me sit on it, and handed me a glass full of water. I didn't object and obliged. Once I emptied the glass, he took it from me, set it back, and knelt, holding my hands in his.

"You are a murderer, Kiaan. I am a murderer's wife. What if someone comes one day and takes you away? What if a cop comes for you..."

Wait! What was I doing? Showing my concern for him rather than over the dead person?

He had messed up my mind so much that I wasn't even thinking rationally anymore. Here I was, displaying my concern for him.

"I won't shy away from hurting those who have ever hurt you. He hurt you, and I killed him."

His bold statement stunned me. How could he say that so plainly?

"You are not God to decide who lives and who dies."

"No. God delivers judgment. I deliver consequences. I am a beast, and I will make every man who threatens you kneel before you, then make them wish they had never existed."

"What about Rhea then? Are your consequences limited to only those you see as your threat and not those I see as my threat?"

I saw Rhea as my threat, and what did he do? Nothing. He used her against me. When she spewed venom at me, he never once did anything. And why would he? He wanted Rhea, not me.

"My consequences are for those who ever made you cry or even thought of hurting you. My consequences are for me too. I will get my due punishment, firefly. And if you want to know about Rhea, then let me tell you, she is hiding to save herself from me. The day she comes out of hiding, I will make sure her existence is wiped from this earth."

He said it all with such confidence and ease, as though it were the hundredth time he had done it to someone. Strangely, this side of him didn't scare me. The side of him that showed raw emotions horrified me, froze me in place. But the way he talked about hurting those who hurt me... it made me feel powerful. No one had ever made me feel like that before. This went against my morals, yet I liked the sound of it.

"No one will ever take me from you, firefly. Not even you. Not a cop, not even God; when you are with me, I am untouchable."

He was putting me in such high regard. I didn't trust him, but his words were laced with a magic potion meant to lift me.

"I am a mere human." I wasn't some superhuman that he could justify doing all of this for. But in his eyes, it appeared I was more. I realized that when he said, "No, you are more. You are everything. My goddess. The sole reason I breathe. The only human I have ever knelt for, and ever will. You rule this beast. You, Simran. Only you."

I shook my head, not believing what he was saying.

"This is too much... way too much... I... I don't understand."

"You want the truth?"

I nodded.

"I want everything. I don't have that kind of patience... I..."

He put his finger on my lips, shushing me.

"Shh..."

"I get it. I know how you are feeling. I understand you better than you understand yourself."

He removed his finger from my lips, but the burning sensation of his touch stayed, igniting a craving inside me. That one intimate touch awakened something deep inside me, the part of me that wanted more. He left my hands now, still squatting on one knee in front of me.

"If you want the truth that badly, you will get it sooner. But there will be rules."

"What rules?"

"Every day I will tell you a piece of the truth, the secrets I have kept from you. But I decide how much you hear each day. An hour one day, five minutes the next, that's my decision."

Of course, it would be his decision. That was only benefiting him.

"So it's just whatever suits you."

"Not entirely. You may ask questions. But..."

"But?"

"There will be rules for asking, too."

I sighed with irritation.

"As expected, whatever suits you."

"You can't swallow the whole truth at once. It will consume you."

"As if the mysteries aren't already eating at me?"

He kept saying I couldn't take the truth, the truth he had been hiding from me since before our wedding. I think even the universe was tired of hearing the same line over and over again.

"The mysteries won't kill you. But the whole truth will break you, and then it will kill you."

The way he said it, it felt like death itself would knock at my door if he told me everything at once.

"I am a selfish man, Simran. If keeping you safe means keeping you from the truth, I will do it. That's why I will give it to you in bits and pieces. So accept it while I am being generous."

I did not see a choice there, and the way he had built up this whole mystery thing, I was more than eager to know about it. Did it hold the secrets of why he was a monster to me all those years? Did it hold the secret to why he hurt me that much? Though nothing could ever justify what he did, I still needed to know what exactly it was. I was desperate to know why he married me, so I simply said, "Okay. What are the rules for the questions I could ask?"

"I will decide when I unravel each mystery. It won't be fixed. I'll text you every day with a time and a place; you must be there. If you are even one second late, you don't get to ask any questions at all that day."

"And if I am on time?"

"If you're on time, you get one question the first day, two the next, and so on. But if you show up on day one on time and get late on day two, the count resets: you get no question on day two and only one question on day three."

Wow. That was quite unfair.

"That's unfair," I said as I glared at him.

"You know what's unfair? Not knowing anything at all. You are tied to me, Simran, and I will never ever let you go. It's up to you to now whether you want to live with me knowing everything or nothing at all. So, do you accept the challenge, or are you too scared to be on time?"

Kiaan made it quite clear there was no way out for me from that marriage, that we were tied for all the seven lives we took vows for. I could see his obsession and feel it in my veins, and it was evident in every touch of his, every glide of his finger in my hair. I gulped as I took the offer.

"I accept."

I had accepted the offer, but I was still confused about a lot of things: like how our relationship would progress after that emotional outburst, how Kiaan would behave with me after that, and most importantly, how I would now share the same room with him. Now that I knew what his mere touch was capable of, how would I stop the craving he had awakened in me?

Too many questions, yet I had answers to none. I would have to find all of that on my own. I wanted to maintain space from him for a while, but he did not seem to finish yet, still kneeling in front of the chair I was on.

"What were you saying... that you are scared the cops will take me away from you and not that I killed someone?"

Shit! I had thought he wouldn't pick that up, but he did. He was Kiaan, after all. How could he have missed it?

"Again, very convenient of you to pick out the one statement that benefits you from everything I just said."

He gave me a gentle smile.

"I have a meeting in an hour."

"Then go."

"Stop me."

As if I would. I wanted to stop him. For some unknown reason, the peace I had been searching for years, I had found in him when he hugged me, and I knew I would struggle if I let him go. I would crave not just his presence but his touch too. But stopping him would mean I was giving in already, and I did not want that. If he wanted me, then he would have to fight for me, prove he was worth every breath.

Just as I made up my mind not to back down, I replied with a firm, "No."

If he was true to his words, if he genuinely wanted our marriage to work, then he would have to taste the same medicine of pain I had been swallowing because of him. I wasn't going to go easy on him.

He didn't say anything and got up. I got up too, didn't look at him, walked past him, and went to see what he had cooked. There were two jumbo cheeseburgers and a pan full of white-sauce pasta. I filled a plate of pasta for myself, left some for him, took one burger, left another for him, and then left the kitchen.

It was time to test his actions, to see whether he meant what he said or if this was just another game. Whatever it was, this time I was ready.