My anger is at its peak.

So furious that I don't even realize what my own hands are doing anymore. Whatever I can grab in his room, I hurl straight at the wall.

Crash.

A vase shatters on the floor, scattering into a hundred pieces, porcelain skidding across the marble like shrapnel.

Crash.

A glass ornament from the table becomes the next victim of my rage, exploding against the wall in a burst of light and noise that does nothing to satisfy the storm inside me.

How dare he?

Uski himmat kaise hui meri maa ke sar par bandook taanne ki?

There is fire in my breath and the same rage burning in my eyes that I've carried, buried, controlled since childhood.

The rage I promised Maa I would never let loose again.

But some promises break the moment someone touches the people you love.

My life has never been normal.

And maybe it never will be.

Yes... I am his daughter.

But that doesn't mean I should be punished for my father's sins. It doesn't mean someone gets to kidnap me like a criminal, lock me inside his house, and make every decision of my life for me.

And not just anyone.

It's him.

Shivaay Singh Rathor.

Rude. Arrogant. Had se zyada irritating... meri life ka sabse bada headache.

I grab another vase off the table, my fingers tightening around its neck. This time, my eyes land on the door.

That's it. With everything I have, I hurl the vase straight at it.

But,

Before it can reach the door, a hand catches it mid-air, effortless, like he'd been expecting it all along.

My breath stops for a second.

He stands there, perfectly calm, watching me destroy his room as if this is the most normal thing in the world.

Not even a flicker of reaction crosses his face.

He tosses the vase aside without even looking at it and begins walking toward me, slowly. Every step is measured.

Calm.

Dangerous.

I straighten my spine and look straight into his eyes, refusing to shrink back even an inch.

"Meri maa kahan hai? Ab aur kya kiya hai tumne unke saath? Phir se torture kiya hai unko? Huh? Bolo!"

My voice shakes with fury, though I'm doing everything I can to hold my emotions together, to sound like the storm inside me isn't threatening to spill out of my eyes.

"Mujhe aakhir kab tak aise band karke rakhoge tum?"

He doesn't stop. He doesn't answer. He just keeps coming toward me.

"I'm asking you, Shivaay!"

Silence.

My frustration climbs higher, burning hotter with every step he takes.

"Tumhe mujhse problem hai na? Itni nafrat hai mujhse? You want revenge from me, right?"

There are no tears in my eyes. Only rage.

"Then kill me."

Another step.

"Right now."

Another step.

"End it all in one go."

My voice breaks slightly on that last word, the only crack in an otherwise unshaken front.

"But at least let her go."

A dark smirk pulls at his lips. And that's when he says it for the first time.

"Ek baar mein maar dene mein woh maza kahan..." He's inches closer now, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off him.

"...jo kisi ko zinda rakhkar, har din... har pal... todne mein hai."

My heart skips for a second. I instinctively step back.

He steps forward.

There's barely a few inches of space left between us now, and I refuse to let him see how much that unsettles me.

He doesn't take his eyes off mine.

"You want me to..." His voice drops even lower, dangerous and quiet. "...let go of your so called mother?"

I look at him, suspicion narrowing my eyes, refusing to let hope creep in. What game is he playing now?

That same irritating smirk stays on his lips.

He leans slightly closer. "Then let's make a deal."

"What kind of deal?"

My eyes narrow further, every nerve in my body on alert.

Without a moment's hesitation, he says,

"Marry me... and I'll let her go."

Disbelief floods my eyes.

"What.. Marriage?"

I almost laugh. But the laugh that escapes me is soaked in fury, sharp enough to cut.

"Have you lost your mind?"

I place one finger on his chest, jabbing it into him with each word like a fist rapping against a door, my palm pressing hard enough to make my point.

"You first kidnapped me."

Tap.

"Fir apne ghar mein mujhe ek servant ki tarah rakha."

Tap.

"Fir mujhe us ghatiya auction mein khareeda... meri maa ko itna torture kiya."

Tap.

My voice sharpens with every word, each one a blade, each jab of my finger punctuating my fury like I'm trying to drive the words straight into him.

Then I pull my hands back, stepping away from him, putting distance between us. My eyes rake over him, slow, deliberate, head to toe, before landing back on his face.

"And now you want me to marry you?"

He just stares at me. As if my anger doesn't touch him at all. That's when my eyes fall on the side table. The drawer is half open. And inside it, 

A gun.

I don't waste a single second. I lunge for the drawer, grab it, and spin around, pointing it straight at him without a flicker of hesitation. 

My finger finds the trigger and I say,

"In your dreams."

There's a strange calmness in Shivaay's eyes, like he expects exactly this from me.

"Go ahead."

I look straight into his eyes, unblinking.

"Don't test me."

"I'm not testing you." He takes a step closer, right into the barrel of the gun, like it means nothing to him. 

"I'm just watching how long you can hold on to that anger of yours."

My jaw clenches.

"I'll shoot you."

"Then do it."

Click.

I pull the trigger.

...

Nothing.

My eyes freeze on the gun for a moment, disbelief crashing through my rage.

What?

I press the trigger again.

Click.

In one swift motion, Shivaay wrenches the gun from my hand. I try to resist, my grip tightening instinctively, but he pulls it out of my reach easily, like I'm a child fighting a losing battle.

His gaze flicks to the gun, then back to me, and a victorious smirk spreads across his lips.

"You still don't know how to handle a gun..." He leans in slightly, close enough that his voice is almost a whisper. "...and you're dreaming of killing me?"

My rage flares hotter, my hands curling into fists at my sides.

He chuckles, low and infuriating.

"No matter how much you hate me..." His voice turns suddenly serious, all traces of amusement gone.

"No matter how many times you try to kill me..." He sets the gun down on the side table, deliberate, final.

"...you're going to marry me."

I stare at him, my chest rising and falling too fast.

"You don't have a choice."

My breathing turns heavy.

"Either you become mine..." The dangerous darkness returns to his eyes, cold and absolute. "...or no one will be able to save your mother from me."

My fist clenches on its own, nails biting into my palm.

He knows my weakness. And he's turning that exact weakness into the biggest chain of my life, tightening it around me with every word.

But he is forgetting one thing..

He isn't dealing with Gauri anymore. He's dealing with 

Maya Rai Chand.

The day I surrender will be the day I stop breathing.