The cityscape outside my office window shimmered under the twilight, casting long shadows across the room. My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts as I reviewed the observations from my recent foray into Mahir's world.

Each piece of information about Isabella Cruz, every interaction I had witnessed, felt like a fragment of a puzzle I was determined to solve.The files on my desk were a testament to my obsession. I had meticulously compiled every detail about Isabella's connections with Mahir, tracking their meetings, mutual contacts, and the subtle nuances of their relationship. It was clear that Isabella held a significant place in Mahir's life-one that I intended to disrupt.

My phone buzzed with a message from Nikhil. "The new surveillance setup is operational. We've got access to Mahir's latest events and meetings. Should provide valuable insights." I read the message with a sense of accomplishment. The advanced monitoring system was a crucial step in my plan to understand Mahir's every move.

I spent the evening reviewing the live feeds from the new setup. The footage revealed Mahir's office, his interactions with his team, and his personal meetings. Among the footage, one particular meeting caught my attention. Mahir was engaged in a heated discussion with his team about an emerging threat-a rival who had been causing trouble for him. The discussion was intense, with Mahir's irritation palpable. The threat was clearly significant, and it was taking a toll on him.

The tension on Mahir's face was a thorn in my heart. Each crease on his forehead, each fleeting frown, was a silent scream that echoed through me. I watched him from a distance, his figure outlined by the soft, golden light of his office, the weight of the world pressing down on his broad shoulders. He was my saint, my everything, and seeing him suffer was unbearable.

I leaned against the cold glass of the window, my eyes tracing the outline of his tense jaw. There was a fire inside me, burning with the need to protect him, to erase the stress from his life.

His calm exterior was a mask, I knew that much. Beneath it, he was battling forces that threatened to destabilize everything he had built. But no matter how hard he tried to hide it, I could see the strain in his eyes, the heaviness in his steps. This rival, this insignificant thorn in his side, was the cause of it all. It made my blood boil.

The reports, the late-night meetings, the whispers among his staff, all pointed to this one thorn in his side. It wasn't enough to destroy him, but it was enough to disturb his peace. That was unacceptable.

I clenched my fists, my mind spiraling into a vortex of anger and resolve. My love for Mahir wasn't just a passive affection; it was a burning flame, consuming everything in its path. How could I stand by and do nothing when something-or someone-was causing him pain?

I needed to act. I had to do something to take this burden off his shoulders. My thoughts raced, a whirlwind of possibilities. The idea came to me in a flash, as sudden and brilliant as a lightning strike. The factory. It was the source of all his worries. If it were to disappear, so would his troubles. It was so simple, so perfect. "Wow..I'm a genius" And I knew exactly how to make it happen.

I reached for my phone, my fingers trembling with a mix of excitement and rage. Roy- my go-to for these sorts of things-discreet, efficient, loyal.

"Roy" I whispered into the phone, my voice steady despite the storm brewing inside me, "I need you to arrange something. A factory... It needs to disappear."

There was a pause on the other end, a silence that spoke volumes. Roy knew better than to question my motives. "Consider it done," he finally replied, his tone as neutral as ever.

The tension in my chest eased slightly as I hung up the phone. The decision was made. The factory would burn, and with it, the cause of Mahir's distress. I wasn't thinking about the consequences, nor did I care. All that mattered was the satisfaction of knowing that I could make things better for him, that I could erase that frown from his face.

That night, I couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned, the image of Mahir's troubled expression haunting me. I envisioned the flames licking at the sky, the structure crumbling to the ground, reduced to ashes because it dared to disturb my saint.

My mind wandered to the possible outcomes. Would Mahir be grateful? Would he even know it was me? I pictured him discovering the news, a small smile of relief gracing his lips. That image alone was worth everything. But then, doubt crept in. What if he didn't notice? What if my efforts went unrecognized, my love unnoticed?

I shook my head, pushing those thoughts away. It didn't matter. I knew what I was doing was madness. But what is love if not a form of madness? My love for Mahir was beyond reason, beyond logic. It was a force of nature, unstoppable, uncontrollable.

When Roy confirmed the success of the operation, I felt a twisted sense of relief wash over me. The factory was no more. The rival who had caused Mahir so much stress had lost a significant asset. And yet, deep down, I knew this was only the beginning. My actions would have repercussions, but I was ready to face them.

I lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, my mind a chaotic swirl of thoughts. Had Mahir noticed? Had he realized what I had done for him? Or was he still lost in his world of deals and negotiations, oblivious to the firestorm I had ignited?

I closed my eyes, hoping that when I next saw him, there would be no trace of that tension, that the worry lines on his face would have softened. But even if they hadn't, I knew I would do it all over again. For him. Always for him.