The room felt suffocating as Samaira sat there, bound but unbroken. The tension was palpable, thick with the silence of impending danger. She had always been able to talk her way out of situations—charming, witty, and elusive. But this? This was different. The air was heavy with something darker. She had seen Advait's dark side before, but now it was as if he was unraveling before her, revealing the true depths of his power.

Then the door creaked open.

Samaira’s eyes immediately locked onto the figure that stepped inside, her heart skipping a beat.

Advait.

Her breath hitched in her chest. This wasn’t the man she had seen glimpses of. No, this was something else entirely. This was the king of the underworld, ruthless, merciless, and in control of everything. She could feel the very atmosphere shift the moment he entered.

Advait didn’t look at her at first. His eyes were fixed on the kidnapper, who stood trembling near the corner of the room. But when Samaira’s gaze met his, the moment felt like an eternity. There was no warmth in his eyes, no sign of the man she once knew. His stare was cold, calculating, the gaze of someone who had long since abandoned any notion of mercy.

“Samaira,” his voice was a low growl, but it carried a sense of authority that made the room vibrate with power.

She couldn’t resist a smirk, though it felt hollow. “Took you long enough,” she said, her tone mocking, though her insides twisted with unease.

Advait’s lips curled into something like a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Still playing games?” he asked, stepping further into the room, his presence taking over every inch of the space.

Before Samaira could respond, the kidnapper, sensing the shift in power, suddenly lunged toward Advait, drawing a gun from his waist with shaking hands. He aimed it directly at Advait, his voice shaking with desperation. “I want you to surrender,” the kidnapper demanded, his breath ragged. “I’ve got her, and if you want her alive, you’ll do exactly as I say.”

The tension in the room spiked. Samaira’s eyes flicked from the kidnapper to Advait, watching his every move, every tiny change in his expression. There was no fear in Advait. Not even a flicker of hesitation.

Samaira could feel it then—the weight of the moment. She had known he was dangerous, but what she saw in front of her now was something more. This was a man who had nothing to lose, and everything to gain.

For a split second, the kidnapper thought he had the upper hand. But Advait didn’t flinch. He didn’t even move. His eyes locked onto the barrel of the gun, unblinking, his gaze unwavering. It was as if the kidnapper was invisible to him. As if he was already dead in Advait's mind.

The kidnapper, feeling the weight of the cold, deadly stare, stumbled, his grip tightening on the gun. “Don’t test me! I’m in control now. You do as I say, or she dies.” His voice cracked under the pressure, his fear palpable.

Advait’s voice came out as a low, deadly whisper. “Enough of this.”

The words were barely out of his mouth when, in the blink of an eye, Advait’s hand shot forward. There was no warning, no hesitation. His gun was in his hand before the kidnapper could even react.

The next sound was deafening—bang—and the kidnapper’s body jerked violently before he crumpled to the floor. The gun clattered from his hand, his last breath leaving him in a sharp gasp.

Samaira’s eyes widened, but she didn’t flinch. She was used to violence. She had witnessed it, even danced with it in her own way. But this… this was different.

Advait didn’t even look at the body. His gaze remained on her, unwavering, as if the man on the floor had been nothing more than an inconvenience.

The silence that followed was suffocating. Samaira’s heart pounded in her chest, the weight of the moment sinking in. She had never truly understood the extent of Advait’s power, but now, she did.

And she felt the chill of it all the way down to her bones.

She finally found her voice, though it was barely a whisper. “You didn’t hesitate.”

Advait’s eyes remained locked on hers, his gaze hard, unyielding. “I don’t have time for hesitation,” he said, his voice quiet, almost too calm.

Samaira couldn’t help but feel a strange, almost detached sense of awe at how effortlessly he had taken control. But there was something else there too. Something that made her question the man she had once known.

She leaned back in the chair, testing her restraints, though she knew they would hold. “You’re not just the man I thought I knew, are you?” she asked, her tone a mix of disbelief and something else. Something darker.

Advait’s lips barely moved, but she saw the flash of something cold in his eyes. “I’ve always been this man, Samaira,” he said, his voice low. “You were just too blind to see it.”

Samaira swallowed, her mind racing. She had thought she understood him. She had thought she knew the depths of his darkness. But what she saw now? This was a different side of Advait. A side that scared her more than anything.

And yet, as terrifying as it was, there was something magnetic about it. Something that pulled her toward him, something that made her realize she could never escape him.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The only sound in the room was the faint, distant echo of the kidnapper’s body hitting the floor. Samaira couldn’t tear her eyes away from Advait, her heart still pounding in her chest.

“Why did you come here?” she asked, her voice quieter now.

Advait’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, it almost felt like he was considering whether or not to answer her. But when he spoke, it was clear he wasn’t here to play games.

“You think I’d leave you in the hands of amateurs?” His tone was laced with disdain. “You’re mine, Samaira. Always have been. And I’ll be damned if I let anyone take you from me.”