July 2022

London, Boston, Massachusetts

The silence was deafening.

Standing by the window of her dimly lit apartment, Shravanya Menon wrapped her arms around herself, her gaze fixed on the vast expanse of the night sky. Stars glittered like tiny shards of hope, scattered across the darkness, distant yet mesmerizing.

A small smile ghosted her lips.

So beautiful.

She gently placed a hand on her belly, feeling the steady rhythm of life growing within her. A warmth spread through her chest, love mingling with longing.

"Look at that, baby," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. "The stars... they're beautiful. Just like your papa."

She could picture him-Krishav Nair, probably seated in a high-rise boardroom halfway across the world, his sharp mind dissecting numbers, securing deals, planning a future. A future for them.

For her and their child.

Her fingers traced slow, absentminded circles over her stomach. He had promised her the world, and she believed him.

She had to.

Because despite the stillness of the night, despite the quiet that wrapped around her like a second skin, an unsettling thought lurked in the corners of her mind-

Why did this silence feel so final?

Her phone buzzed, breaking the quiet hum of the night.

She glanced at the screen, and the moment she saw the caller ID, a smile tugged at her lips.

"Shaitaan ka naam liya aur Shaitaan haazir," she murmured with a chuckle, answering the call.

Before she could say a word, his deep, familiar voice filled her ears.

"How's my hot, sexy, beautiful girlfriend and our tiny-miny-moo baby doing without me?"

Shravanya laughed, sinking onto the bed, one hand absentmindedly caressing her belly.

"Baby misses you... and your girlfriend misses your delicious dick."

There was a beat of silence. Then-

"Damn, Shravi baby. Not even a hello?" His voice dropped, thick with amusement.

"You're getting bolder, aren't you?"

"What can I say? Pregnancy hormones."

"Hormones or just me being irresistible?"

"Mmm... maybe a bit of both." She bit her lip, knowing exactly how smug he'd look right now.

"I knew it." His chuckle sent a shiver down her spine. "If I were there right now-"

"You'd be late for your meeting," she cut in, smirking.

"Screw the meeting. My baby's mamma is getting naughty, and I'm stuck in this stupid suit, talking numbers when I could be-"

"Krishav!" she scolded, laughing.

"Fine, fine," he relented, sighing dramatically. "But once I'm back, you better make up for all this teasing."

"We'll see."

Their laughter mingled through the phone, wrapping around her like a warm embrace. And for a moment, in the quiet of her bedroom, everything felt perfect.

If only she knew how fragile this happiness was.

"Angel... I'll come back soon, hmm?"

Krishav's voice was soft, laced with a tenderness that made her chest ache.

"Come fast, darling," Shravanya murmured, curling up on the bed. "I miss your warmth. This house feels so cold without you."

A deep sigh came through the speaker, followed by a husky promise. "Don't worry. I'll make up for every second of staying away when I'm back." She could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

Before she could respond, a faint voice called from the background-

"Mr. Nair?"

Shravanya smiled knowingly. "Go, Krish. You must be busy. Talk to you later... just come back soon."

"Yeah..." His voice dipped, reluctant. "You too, angel. Take care, okay? No skipping meds, and stick to the diet plan. When I come back, I need you and our baby super healthy-just like I left you. Hmm?"

"Hmm," she hummed softly, her heart swelling with warmth.

"Bye, love. Muaah."

She chuckled at the sound of his kiss through the phone before ending the call, pressing the device to her chest for a brief moment.

The silence returned. But this time, it didn't feel quite as lonely.

She glanced at the time-11:42 p.m.

It was late. Too late for visitors.

Shravanya let out a tired sigh, pulling the sheets over her legs. Just as she was about to settle in, a sharp knock echoed through the quiet apartment.

Her breath hitched.

The knock came again-firm, insistent.

Her fingers curled around the edge of the blanket. Who could it be at this hour?

Krishav? No. He was miles away.

Maybe the neighbors? The security guard?

But something about the sound sent a chill creeping down her spine. It wasn't hesitant. It wasn't casual. It was... deliberate.

Slowly, she sat up, her heartbeat picking up pace.

Was she imagining it, or did the silence suddenly feel heavier?

Shravanya let out a slow breath, pressing a hand to her chest to calm her racing heart. Through the peephole, she saw a man in a security guard's uniform standing outside, his back turned to the door.

For a moment, relief washed over her.

Maybe it's just the apartment security doing a late-night check... or delivering a message from the front desk.

Still, something felt off.

Why wasn't he facing the door? And why hadn't he called out?

She hesitated. Should she open it?

Her fingers hovered over the doorknob as doubt crept in. The air felt unnaturally still, the apartment too quiet except for the faint hum of the city outside.

Something about this moment didn't sit right.

Shravanya swallowed, her grip tightening around the door handle.

Shravanya's fingers trembled slightly as she twisted the lock and pulled the door open.

The hallway light flickered above, casting eerie shadows as the man slowly turned to face her.

Her breath hitched.

Something was wrong.

The uniform was right-the badge, the cap, the neatly pressed shirt. But his face... she didn't recognize him.

He wasn't the usual security guard.

His eyes were dark, unreadable, his lips curling into a slow, unsettling smile.

"Ms. Menon?" His voice was smooth, too polite, too measured.

A strange chill crawled down her spine.

"Yes?" she asked cautiously, her grip tightening on the door.

He tilted his head, as if studying her. "A delivery. Urgent. You need to sign."

She blinked. A delivery? At this hour?

Her gut screamed at her to shut the door. To not trust this man.

But before she could react, he stepped forward.

And suddenly, she knew-this wasn't just a delivery.

This was something far, far worse.

Shravanya's breath caught in her throat as the man took a step forward, his polished shoes barely making a sound against the floor.

Her fingers clenched around the edge of the door, instinct screaming at her to shut it. Lock it. Run.

"A delivery? At this hour?" she asked, forcing her voice to stay steady.

The man's lips stretched into a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Yes, ma'am. It's urgent." He lifted a clipboard, tapping a pen against it. "Just a signature. Won't take a second."

She hesitated.

Something was off. The usual delivery staff always left packages at the reception. And the security guards never handled late-night deliveries.

Her heart pounded.

"Who sent it?" she questioned, stalling.

His jaw tightened-just for a second. Almost imperceptible.

"From Mr. Nair," he said smoothly.

Her blood ran cold.

Krishav?

No. He would've told her.

The realization hit her like ice water.

"I think there's a mistake," she said, gripping the door tighter. "You should leave it downstairs."

The man exhaled sharply, his mask of politeness slipping.

"Ma'am, just sign the damn-"

Shravanya slammed the door.

Or at least, she tried.

Before she could push it shut, his foot wedged into the gap.

Panic exploded in her chest.

"What the hell-"

The man shoved the door open with brutal force, sending her stumbling backward.

She barely had time to react before he stepped inside.

And then-the lights went out.

Darkness swallowed the room whole.

And the last thing Shravanya heard was the soft click of the door locking behind him.

A shiver of terror ran down Shravanya's spine.

She wasn't alone.

Even in the suffocating darkness, she could feel them-multiple figures moving silently around her. The air grew thick with something sinister, the faint rustling of clothes and the subtle shift of weight on the floor making her stomach churn.

Then, a faint click.

A dim, flickering glow illuminated the room.

The man in the security uniform held a small oil lamp, its weak light barely stretching beyond his face. But it was enough.

Enough for her to see the others.

Three more men. Dressed in black.

Watching her.

Her pulse roared in her ears as she jerked backward, scrambling to escape. But before she could react, hands-so many hands-grabbed her.

"No-" Her scream barely left her throat before a cloth was shoved over her mouth, muffling the sound.

She thrashed, kicked, fought, her pregnant belly a cruel obstacle in her struggle. But they were stronger.

In seconds, rough ropes bit into her wrists and ankles, yanking her down onto the bed.

Tied. Trapped.

The panic in her chest turned suffocating.

One of the men leaned closer, his shadowed face twisted in amusement.

"Such a fighter," he murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.

Shravanya recoiled, pure terror flooding her veins.

This wasn't a robbery.

This wasn't a mistake.

They had come for her.

And she had no way out.

Shravanya's breath hitched as she felt cold fingers graze her skin.

One of the men-the one standing closest to her-reached down and began undoing the buttons of Krishav's shirt that she was wearing.

No. No. No.

A violent shudder ran through her body. She writhed against the ropes, twisting desperately, but the binds held firm.

"Please... don't-" she gasped against the cloth still stuffed in her mouth, her voice muffled, but her eyes screamed the words she couldn't say.

The man smirked. Cruel. Unbothered.

"So obedient while that Nair fucks you in those photos... yet such a handful with us." He tsked, popping open another button.

Photos?

Her mind spun in confusion and horror.

Her personal photos? The ones in which Krishav and Shravanya had sex? How the hell did they get those?

Terror gripped her, paralyzing her for a split second. But then, her mother's voice rang in her head-

"If a man ever dares to touch you without your consent, you make him bleed."

And something inside her snapped.

With all the strength she had, she jerked her knee up-aiming blindly.

A strangled curse tore from the man's throat as she hit home.

Hard.

He stumbled back, clutching himself, his face twisting in agony.

But she didn't stop to feel relief-

Because the others were already on her.

A hand-merciless, unyielding-wrapped around her throat, squeezing just enough to make her breath hitch.

"Feisty," the leader murmured, his face now inches from hers. Too close.

Shravanya's lungs burned, her body thrashing instinctively, but the ropes cut deeper, leaving her trapped. Vulnerable.

"Let's fix that attitude, shall we?"

And then-

The cold, sharp edge of a knife traced down her collarbone.

Tears blurred her vision. Her heart pounded wildly.

But she refused to break. Not yet.

She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms, and prayed.

Krishav... where are you?

And then, the unthinkable happened.

With cruel precision, the man in the security uniform ripped away the last barrier of her dignity, leaving her exposed and vulnerable beneath their predatory gazes.

The room grew colder, but the heat of their hunger burned into her skin like a branding iron, their eyes devouring her like she was nothing more than prey caught in a trap.

From childhood, she had always questioned it-why was it always the woman who had to bare herself before a man? Why was love measured in physicality rather than emotions? Why did a woman's worth always seem tied to how much of herself she was willing to give?

And then, she met Krishav Nair.

A man of principles, patience, and unwavering respect.

Their first meeting had been absurd-a silly argument over an ice cream tub in a store. She had been stubborn, unwilling to let go, and so had he. Yet, even in that ridiculous tug-of-war, she had noticed something different about him.

He fought her, yes-but never disrespected her.

And when their paths crossed again, and again, and again, she found herself drawn to him, to the way he listened, the way he cared, the way he never made her feel like she owed him anything for his love.

When they started dating, he had every right to ask for a kiss, to pull her close, to take what could have easily been his.

But he never did.

He waited.

Waited until she was comfortable enough. Until she was ready.

And the first time they made love, she had felt nothing but safety, devotion, and the gentlest reverence.

Krishav had touched her as if she were something sacred, as if one wrong move could shatter her.

That night, wrapped in his warmth, she had made a promise to herself-

If there was ever a man in front of whom she could bare herself without hesitation, it was Krishav Nair.

But tonight...

Tonight, her dignity had been stolen. Ripped from her hands without mercy.

Hands roamed her body-foreign, forceful, filthy.

They weren't Krishav's.

They belonged to strangers. Monsters. Beasts who looked at her and saw not a woman, not a human, but prey.

She wanted to scream. To fight. To claw her way out.

But the ropes cut deeper.

And for the first time in her life, she felt truly helpless.

She gasped, her entire body going rigid as an unwelcome hand slid against her core, a touch so vile it sent a wave of nausea crashing over her.

A violent shudder tore through her as sheer disgust and terror tangled in her veins, her skin crawling beneath the touch that did not belong-should never belong.

Then she felt the slow, deliberate intrusion of his length, stretching and filling her inch by inch.

Then she felt his length pushing into her, raw and unrelenting, the lack of lubrication making every inch an agonizing stretch.

She felt a searing burn as her inner core strained against the relentless friction, each movement tearing through her with raw, unyielding intensity.

"KRISHAV!" She tried to scream at the top of her lungs, but the muffling cloth swallowed her desperate cry, leaving it unheard.

Then she felt a ruthless bite clamp down on her nipple, the sharp teeth sinking in so brutally that a warm trickle of blood seeped from the wound.

She screamed in agony, her voice trembling with desperation. "PLEASE, LEAVE ME... KRISHAV... WHERE ARE YOU?! AHH!" Her cries were swallowed by the darkness, unanswered and unheard.

She heard the low, menacing hum of a vibrator, and a shudder ran through her body, fear coiling deep within her.

Then, without warning, she felt it thrust inside her at an unforgiving speed. The cold, sharp metal tore through her, sending a searing pain ripping through her core as warm blood trickled down her thighs.

She then felt another cock pressing between her blood smeared breasts, the warmth of it stark against her torn, aching skin.

Finally, someone yanked the cloth from her mouth, allowing her a desperate gasp of air. "Please, have mer-" Her plea was abruptly silenced as something thick and intrusive was forced past her lips, choking off the rest of her words.

She was utterly invaded, every part of her violated by ruthless strangers. It wasn't Krishav claiming her-it was them, merciless and unrelenting.

Then, at last, she heard the sharp click of the door unlocking, followed by the measured steps of someone entering. The air in the room shifted as the men surrounding her instinctively moved aside, parting for him.

He stood at the threshold-a towering figure clad in a dark hoodie, his face concealed behind an eerie mask. But this was no ordinary mask. It was crafted to resemble a skull, its hollow eyes and bone-white surface giving him the appearance of death itself walking into the room.

She let out a shaky sigh as she felt them withdraw, leaving her hollow and aching. Finally, it was over. Or so she thought.

"Please... just let me go," she begged, her voice weak and trembling. "What have I ever done to you? I-I carry a bab-"

She was abruptly silenced as the masked man took a slow step closer.

"Baby," he murmured, his voice chillingly calm.

Her breath hitched.

"Yes," he continued, tilting his head slightly. "That's exactly what I'm here for."

"Oh, you slut. How dare you let anyone touch you?" His voice was laced with pure venom as he stretched out a hand, wordlessly demanding something.

"You are mine. Only mine," he growled.

The room filled with the deafening blast of music as one of his men cranked up the volume. Another stepped forward, pressing a cold, heavy steel rod into his waiting palm.

Her eyes widened in horror as she watched the steel rod gleam menacingly in his grip. A sickening dread twisted in her stomach, every nerve in her body screaming in silent terror.

His gaze dropped to her bruised, bloodied flesh, and behind the eerie mask, a twisted satisfaction flickered in his stance. Slowly, he crouched, his gloved fingers reaching out to touch her. She flinched, recoiling in disgust, but there was nowhere to escape.

With cruel deliberation, he slid a finger inside her, moving it torturously slow. Her body convulsed, not in pain alone, but in sheer revulsion. Then, as if savoring his own depravity, he withdrew his finger-glistening with blood-and lifted it to his lips.

He licked it.

And smiled.

When Krishav did this, it used to set her body ablaze, a rush of heat and desire igniting every nerve. But now, with him, there was nothing but revulsion-a gut-wrenching, skin-crawling disgust that made her want to tear herself apart, to escape the vile touch that defiled her.

But the next thing he did shattered her entire world.

He gripped the steel rod tighter, raised it high, and with unrelenting force, swung.

A searing pain tore through her stomach as the impact sent shockwaves through her body.

"AHHHHHH!" she screamed, her voice raw, desperate-but it was swallowed by the deafening music, lost in the chaos. No one would hear her. No one would save her.

A suffocating darkness crept in, her vision blurring as agony consumed her. And in that moment, she felt it.

She lost everything.

She lost her baby.

She lost Krishav.

And worst of all-she lost herself.

ಠ⁠﹏⁠ಠ

A

ugust, 2022

India, Banglore

Krishav sat in his office, staring at the whiskey glass in his trembling hand. The golden liquid barely moved, yet his entire world was shattering piece by piece. It had been months. Months since she vanished. Months since he woke up to the cold emptiness of his bed, the warmth of her presence ripped away without warning. Months of searching, calling, tracking—only to find nothing.

The air in the room was suffocating, thick with unanswered questions. His mind churned through the same thoughts over and over again. She wouldn't leave me. Not like this. Not without a word. He had told himself this countless times, but reality fought against him.

He slammed the glass onto the desk, the sound sharp against the silence. “Damn it, Shravanya!” he roared, his voice hoarse, raw with frustration. His hands tangled in his hair, fingers curling against his scalp, as if he could pull out the agony clawing at his chest.

The detective he had hired had turned up nothing. Every lead ended in darkness, every trail a dead end. It was as if she had been erased from existence.

“Sir…” Aryan, his right-hand man, hesitated at the door. “You need to rest. You haven’t slept in days.”

Krishav laughed bitterly. Rest? How could he rest when the woman he loved was missing, when every breath felt like a dagger twisting in his ribs?

His vision blurred as he picked up his phone, dialing her number for the hundredth time. The automated voice response hit him like a slap—The number you are trying to reach is currently switched off.

He flung the phone against the wall, watching it shatter. “She’s out there, Aryan. I know it. And I will find her… even if it kills me.”

The desperation in his voice was almost terrifying. He wasn’t just searching for her—he was unraveling, losing himself in the void her absence had left behind. And if he doesn’t find her soon…

He wasn’t sure if he’d survive it.

Krishav stormed out of his office, his pulse hammering against his skull. He needed air. Needed to escape the suffocating weight of his thoughts before he lost his mind. His steps were hurried, almost frantic, as he pushed past his employees without so much as a glance. They were used to his temper, but today—today, there was something terrifying in his eyes.

He reached the lobby, his breath uneven, hands clenched into fists. The world around him blurred into meaningless shapes and sounds. He was about to step out when—

He froze.

Time stopped.

His chest constricted so painfully that he swayed on his feet. His fingers twitched at his sides. His throat went dry.

Because there she was.

Shravanya.

Standing at the entrance.

For a moment, he thought he was hallucinating, that his desperation had finally broken him. His heart pounded so hard it hurt. He blinked, willing the vision away. But she didn’t disappear.

She was real.

But she wasn’t the same.

She looked… lifeless. Her once-bright eyes were hollow, dark circles shadowing them. Her face was pale, her body thin, as if she had been drained of life itself. A long-sleeved dress covered her completely, but he noticed how she trembled, how she seemed to shrink into herself.

His breath hitched. His mind screamed at him to move, to say something—anything.

But all he could do was stare.

A hundred emotions slammed into him at once—relief, confusion, anger, devastation. His body acted before his mind could catch up. In three long strides, he reached her, his hands gripping her arms as if to make sure she was real.

“Shravanya…?” His voice was barely a whisper, raw and broken.

Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out. Her gaze flickered to him, and for a split second, he swore he saw something—fear, pain, hesitation. Then, she looked away.

Krishav’s stomach twisted. His grip tightened. “Where the hell have you been?” His voice cracked, his desperation bleeding through.

She flinched.

And that was when he knew.

Something had happened to her. Something terrible.

His relief was swallowed by a cold, burning rage. Whoever had taken her, hurt her—he would find them. And he would make them suffer.

But first… he had to make sure she never disappeared again.

For the first time in months, Krishav could breathe.

Shravanya was here. Right in front of him. Real. Alive.

His hands trembled as they cupped her face, his thumbs brushing over her cold skin. "You're here," he whispered, as if saying it aloud would make it permanent. His chest ached with the force of emotions flooding him—relief, disbelief, overwhelming joy. His eyes burned, his breath shuddering, but he didn’t care.

He pulled her into his arms, crushing her against him. “You have no idea…” His voice broke. “No idea what I went through.” He inhaled deeply, as if trying to memorize her scent, her presence, her. "I looked everywhere, everywhere, Shravi."

She didn’t hug him back.

Krishav stilled.

Slowly, he pulled away, searching her face for answers. “Shravanya?”

Something was wrong.

She wasn’t crying. She wasn’t relieved. There was no warmth, no trace of the woman who used to melt in his arms.

Instead, her lips curled into a smirk. “Krishav, stop being so dramatic.”

His heart stuttered.

“I didn’t disappear. I left you,” she said, her voice light, casual. “On my own terms.”

Krishav took a step back, as if she had struck him. His mind rejected the words even as they rang in his ears. “No.” He shook his head. “No, you wouldn’t—”

“I did.” She tilted her head, her expression cold. “And I’m only here to make things clear.”

Krishav felt the floor tilt beneath him. His world, which had just started to feel whole again, was crumbling faster than he could grasp. “Shravi… what are you saying?”

She sighed, as if bored. “I was never in love with you, Krishav. You were a means to an end.”

His breath hitched. “W-What?”

She folded her arms. “I wanted luxury, not a Google employee struggling to prove himself. I deserved more than a man chasing dreams instead of power. Your family business had everything. But you?” She let out a humorless laugh. “You wanted to work your way up like a fool.”

Krishav couldn't move. Couldn’t breathe.

Each word sliced into him, deeper and deeper, until he felt like he was bleeding out.

His voice was barely a whisper. “You… don’t mean that.”

Her next words destroyed him.

“I aborted the child, Krishav.”

Silence.

His world stopped.

He stared at her, his chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven breaths. His hands, which had just held her so desperately, fell to his sides, lifeless.

A strangled sound escaped him, something between a gasp and a sob. His throat burned, his mind refusing to process what she had said. No. No, no, no.

Shravanya—his Shravi—their child—gone?

His legs gave out, and he sank onto his knees, his fingers curling into fists against the cold marble floor. “You’re lying.” His voice was hoarse, almost unrecognizable.

She rolled her eyes. “Believe what you want.”

Krishav’s head snapped up. “Tell me you’re lying.” His voice cracked. “Tell me this isn’t real, Shravi. Please.” His desperation bled into every word. “Tell me something happened, that you were forced—”

She exhaled sharply. “I made my choice, Krishav. The baby was an inconvenience.”

His stomach twisted violently. His chest felt like it was caving in, his heartbeat pounding so loudly he thought it would shatter his ribs.

“Inconvenience?” His voice was barely a whisper.

A bitter laugh tore from his throat, wild and broken. “You’re lying,” he said again, shaking his head. “This isn’t you. This isn’t you!” His vision blurred, hot tears threatening to spill, but he refused to let them fall.

Shravanya had always fought for what she loved. She had loved him. She had loved their child.

Hadn’t she?

His fingers dug into the floor as he gasped for breath. The walls felt like they were closing in, the room spinning around him.

She wasn't touching him. Wasn’t comforting him. Wasn’t even looking at him.

The realization made him feel like his heart was being ripped straight out of his chest.

He had spent months searching, dying every second she was gone. And now, she stood before him… acting as if none of it had ever mattered.

Everything had been a lie?

Or worse—had he never really known her at all?

He wanted to scream. To break something. To wake up from this nightmare.

But all he could do was kneel there, his entire body shaking, as the love of his life shattered him beyond repair.

"I love you, Krish."

"I need you, Krish."

"Come fast, darling."

"I miss your warmth. This house feels so cold without you."

Her sweet voice echoed in his mind, dripping with love, warmth, and truth. He could still hear the sincerity in her confessions, still feel the way she clung to him—as if he were her entire world, as if letting go meant losing him forever.

He remembered how desperate she had sounded over the phone, pleading with him to return from his business tour. Come fast, Krish. Please. The urgency in her voice had been so raw, so real.

He remembered her last I love you, how pure it was, how it had wrapped around him like a promise—unbreakable, eternal.

He remembered the relief that had flooded her when he told her he would never leave her, that if she was pregnant, he would marry her without hesitation. She had believed him. She had trusted him.

He remembered how her eyes had shimmered with dreams as she spoke of their child’s future, weaving fantasies of lullabies, tiny fingers curling around theirs, and a life filled with love.

That was his Shravanya.

Not the woman standing in front of him now—cold, detached, and spitting out cruel words as if their love had never meant a thing.

Yet, despite every venomous syllable she uttered, despite the way she tore him apart with indifference, he refused to believe it. This was not his Shravi.

His Shravi had loved him—so much that she would have rather died than betray him.

But the woman before him?

She was a stranger wearing the face of the girl who had once been his everything.

And yet, no matter how muh he denied it, how much he begged for this to be some twisted illusion—he couldn’t escape the undeniable truth.

She was standing right there.

And she had destroyed him.