The first thing I registered was the cold. Not the biting chill of the warehouse air, but the cool ambience of the situation and the soft restraints around my wrists. Ritika had done her job well; the bindings were secure, tight enough to prevent escape but gentle enough to avoid injury. The perfect blend of obsession and care.

I opened my eyes slowly, allowing myself a moment to observe the dimly lit room. The faint hum of distant machinery filled the silence, a rhythmic beat that matched the calmness of my pulse. My head rested against the surface of the plush couch, and I made no effort to move, no attempt to break free.

I wanted to savor this moment, the culmination of a game that had been unfolding since the day I first laid eyes on Ritika. Every move, every calculated risk, had led to this-a moment where the lines between predator and prey blurred into nothingness.

She believed she had won. That thought amused me more than anything. Ritika, in all her determination and passion, thought she was in control. She thought she had captured me, bound me to her will, and that her secret desire had finally overpowered me. But the truth was far from her carefully constructed illusion.

I had known from the beginning. The lingering glances, the subtle touches, the way her eyes lit up whenever I was near-it was all too obvious. But I allowed it to unfold, to let her believe she was orchestrating this madness. I wanted to see how far she would go, how deep her obsession ran. And now, here we were, in the middle of a dimly lit warehouse, with her pouring out her soul to what she believed was an unconscious man.

I almost smiled at the thought.

Her confession still echoed in the air, every word dripping with a twisted form of love. "You're mine, Mahir. My saint, My one true desire. And I won't let anyone, not even you, take you away from me." She had caressed my cheek so tenderly, her voice laced with a devotion that bordered on madness.

But what she didn't know-what she couldn't possibly fathom-was that my obsession for her far surpassed her own for me.

She was the little fox, darting through the woods, thinking she was the one hunting. But I was the shadow, the silent predator that had been stalking her every move, guiding her to this very moment.

My thoughts drifted back to the night at the restaurant, where she had slipped that carefully concealed powder into my drink. I'd noticed it instantly, the way her hands shook slightly, the way she tried to mask her concern under a facade of casual conversation. I had played along, letting her believe that she had outsmarted me. Even when the drug began to take effect, I had feigned dizziness, allowing her to guide me to the car, her hands trembling with anticipation and fear.

And now, I was here, playing the part of the helpless victim. All the while, I was fully aware of every step she had taken, every breath she had drawn as she bound me to this couch.

The memory of the red roses flashed in my mind-how she had sent them with a note dripping in jealousy and possessiveness when Isabella had come too close. What she didn't know was that I had been the delivery man that day, disguised in a cap and mask, standing at her door. She had handed me the payment without a second glance, completely unaware of the game I was playing. That's how deep my obsession ran-I was always one step ahead, always in control.

I could almost hear her heartbeat from across the room, fast and erratic, mirroring the intensity of her emotions. The longer she believed in this illusion, the more satisfying the eventual reveal would be. But not yet. The time wasn't right.

For now, I would continue to play my role, to let her bask in the glory of her perceived victory. Her obsession was my weapon, her love a tool I would use to bind her to me in ways she couldn't even imagine.

The door creaked open slightly, and I could sense her presence before she even stepped inside. My little fox was coming to check on her prey, to ensure that her plans had gone smoothly. I relaxed further into the couch, letting my head lull to the side, my breathing steady and even.

Her footsteps were soft, hesitant, as if she feared waking me from my supposed unconscious state. She knelt beside me, her fingers brushing against my cheek once more, her thumb brushing gently over my lower lip "fuck..I love this" and I could feel the weight of her gaze on me. It was a look of possession, of longing, of a twisted form of care that only deepened my desire to keep her close.

"Rest well, my saint," she whispered, her voice barely audible in the stillness of the room. "Soon, you'll understand how much I love you."

Her words were like a promise, one that I intended to make her fulfill-but on my terms, not hers.

As she turned to leave, I allowed a small smile to tug at the corner of my lips. The game was far from over. In fact, it was only just beginning.

I remained perfectly still until the door clicked shut behind her, the faint sound of her footsteps fading away. Then, and only then, did I open my eyes fully, my gaze sharp and focused.

The darkness around me was comforting, like an old friend that understood my true nature. I flexed my fingers slightly, testing the strength of the bindings, and found them as secure as before. But it didn't matter. I could break free whenever I wanted, but for now, I chose to stay.

Ritika believed she was the one in control, but she was merely a piece on my chessboard, moving according to my design. And soon, very soon, I would reveal my hand.

For now, I would wait. Let her have her moment of triumph, her belief that she had succeeded in capturing the elusive Mahir Singhania. But when the time came, she would see the truth-the depth of my obsession, my love, my control.

And in that moment, she would finally realize the true nature of our twisted bond.
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AN : To kaise hai aap log👀

Apki author marne vali hai.. Jinda rhi to next update aayga.. Thankyou 😭 (don't mind🤧)

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