♤ Ryan ♤
I slam the door shut behind me, but the only thing I want to slam is her.
Against that fucking wall.
Against my desk.
Against anything that'll take the weight of her moans.
My hands are still shaking as I walk down the hallway, pulling at my collar like the air's grown too thick to breathe. She did that-Anvitha Ramaswamy. The girl who walks like she owns fire and bleeds venom from her tongue, but moans like sin when I touch her right.
Fuck.
My fingers still smell like her-sweet, angry wildfire and desperate lust.
Mine.
I've never met a woman who could say no to my face and beg with her body in the same damn breath.
She's different.
I warned her in the boardroom.
Told her to stop cozying up with that mother fucking piece of shit-Neil. Told her to stop smiling, laughing, pretending she doesn't know I'm watching every fucking blink, every curve of her thighs under that pencil skirt.
She ignored me.
Like she can .
She can't and I wouldn't let her even if she try .
So I touched her. Beneath the polished wood, I claimed her thigh like it belonged to me. Gripped it hard. Possessively. And she jerked. Not away-towards. Because her body knows me now.
It craves me.
Just like I crave her.
With the every fiber of my body .
Every. Fucking. Second.
The way she gasped when I whispered in her ear-I can still feel the shiver that ran through her body. Her breath caught. Her pulse spiked.
And when I pushed her against that office wall?
God.
Her scent surrounded me. Her anger fed me. Her lips parted like she wanted to deny me again-but the truth was painted all over her face , her eyes.
She's mine.
Even if she hasn't admitted it yet.
Even if she slaps me again.
Hell-especially when she slaps me.
I walk to the elevator, hit the button, and lean my head against the steel wall. My heart won't fucking slow down.
She's unraveling me.
I'm not supposed to want someone like her-Ramaswamy's golden girl, his puppet, the fragile doll wrapped in secrets. But the moment I touched her, I knew she wasn't fragile.
She's feral.
She's wild .
She's fire .
And she's trying so hard to pretend she doesn't like it. Doesn't want it.
But I saw the way her thighs clenched. The way her eyes darkened. The way her breath hitched when I brushed my mouth near hers and told her she smelled like sex.
She wanted to kiss me again.
She wanted to come again.
Hell, I bet if I walked back into her office right now, she'd still be pressed against that wall, trying to breathe, trying to forget the way I made her feel.
But she won't.
She can't.
Just like I can't forget her.
Her taste. Her defiance. That one look in her eyes before I walked away-that flicker of something raw, something broken, something begging for ruin.
That's what makes her mine.
Because I don't just want her body.
I want the part of her she keeps buried. The secrets. The nightmares. The pieces she doesn't even remember.
I'll own them all.
Even if I have to break her for it.
Especially if I have to break her for it.
My phone buzzes in my pocket.
It's a message-from her.
No name.
Just one word.
Anvitha:
"Asshole."
I smile. Broad. Dark.
My wildfire is burning again.
And she has no idea I'm going to pour gasoline.
As I type.
Me:
> "You know what's funny, wildfire? You call me an asshole, yet your body betrays you every time I'm near. Your thighs clenched the moment I touched them under that table. You trembled when I leaned in and told you to stop smiling at him.
> "You pretend I disgust you, but the way your breath hitched when I gripped your thigh... that wasn't hate. That was heat. Want. Desperation."
> "Did he make you wet like I did? Hmm?"
> "Of course not. You don't melt for anyone else."
> "You want to keep playing games, Anvitha? I'll play. But remember who wrote the rules."
> "You touched yourself when you got back to your cabin, didn't you? Still soaked from me. Still needy. Still mine."
> "Next time I touch you.
I won't stop at your thigh."
> "I'll fuck you on that glass table in your office, make you scream so loud your precious Devraj hears every moan down the hall. Let's see how obedient his puppet is then."
And she reply none of them .
She left me on read .
Is she ignoring me ?
Wildfire.
I don't need to see her flushed face to know what that messages did. The silence that followed was louder than her moans.
The elevator doors slid open, soft and silent-just like every secret I buried.
still relishing the smirk curling on my lips from the message I just sent her.
I stepped out and made my way toward the car waiting in the underground lot. The hum of expensive engines echoed off the stone walls, but mine stood out. A custom-built, matte black Bentley-modified for both luxury and protection. Tinted windows. Bulletproof plating. Reinforced tires. Not because I needed to be flashy.
Because I knew exactly how many people wanted me dead.
Vikrant was already waiting by the door, phone in one hand, tablet in the other.
He nodded and opened the back door for me before sliding in himself.
Once inside, the driver took off with silent efficiency. No small talk. No glances in the mirror. He knew better.
Vikrant cleared his throat. "I've got the internal updates. Sector Nine and Eleven shipments are stalled. Customs flagged the route."
"Again?" I asked, my tone cold.
He nodded. "They want additional clearance codes. They're getting nervous."
I let my head fall back against the leather headrest and stared at the ceiling. "They don't need codes. They need fear."
"My thoughts exactly. I've arranged a... private conversation with the port director's assistant."
"She'll talk?"
"She always does-with the right encouragement."
"Use whatever method necessary. But I want that shipment on Indian soil by midnight tomorrow."
There was silence for a moment, thick and heavy.
Then Vikrant asked, "And the other matter?"
I narrowed my eyes. "Be specific."
"The one from Prague has been handled," he said quickly. "I meant the local one."
My fingers flexed against my thigh. "Has she cracked yet?"
"She's trying to play loyal. But fear's making her slip. She asked if she could call her brother."
I turned my head slightly toward him. "Did you let her?"
"No."
"Good."
"She's asking questions, though. Keeps looking at the camera like she knows it's not just there for surveillance."
I smiled slightly. "She's not wrong."
"Orders?"
"She has 48 hours. Then I want silence. I don't care how it happens."
Vikrant's jaw ticked as he nodded. "Understood."
But his eyes stayed on me for a beat too long.
"What?" I asked sharply.
"Nothing. Just... you've been distracted lately. Ever since-"
"Finish that sentence," I warned.
He didn't.
Smart.
Because if Vikrant had seen what I saw today in that goddamn boardroom, he'd know I'm already running on a blade's edge.
Anvitha.
Her soft laughter directed at Neil.
Her full lips curling in a smile I hadn't earned.
Her posture, the tilt of her head, the way she leaned in to whisper something I didn't hear-but saw.
Saw enough.
She sat beside me. Smelled like venom and sin. Looked like vengeance with red on her nails.
And then she ignored me.
Like I was nobody.
So I did the only thing I could do without flipping the table-I grabbed her thigh under it.
And fuck, she froze. Just like I knew she would.
But she didn't move.
She didn't push me away.
She didn't shut her legs, either.
She just sat there.
Pretending nothing was happening while her pulse jumped beneath my fingers.
Pretending she wasn't turned on.
And when the meeting ended, she ran like hell.
Too bad I don't chase.
I hunt.
And when I hunt, I never miss.
My phone vibrated. Mihira this time.
"One of the clients threatened to leak information if they don't receive the shipment soon. They've contacted a lawyer."
I texted back:
"Handle it. If it escalates, bury them in contracts. Or dirt. You choose."
I put the phone down.
I didn't build this empire with kindness.
It was forged through calculated fear and strategic cruelty.
In deals signed with ink-or blood.
Whichever was more effective.
But Anvitha... she was never part of the plan.
She was a glitch.
A burning, stunning, dangerous glitch in the flawless system I designed.
I first saw her when she wasn't meant to be seen.
Stripped of everything but defiance.
A broken girl with fire in her eyes and chains on her wrists.
I never forgot that image.
Not when I saw her again at Devraj's side, polished like a diamond-an adopted lost puppy with no past and too much silence in her eyes.
Devraj thinks she's his.
He has no fucking idea.
Anvitha was never his.
She was mine.
The night I first saw her changed everything.
And the moment I learned he took her in-not out of compassion, but convenience-I kept my distance.
But never my eyes.
I watched.
I waited.
And now, I'm done waiting.
She can try to play innocent.
She can dig into files, hire investigators, sneak into rooms, pretend she isn't obsessed.
But the truth is... she wants to unravel the mystery of who I am.
What I am.
And I'll let her.
Because the more she learns, the deeper she falls.
Until she can't get out.
Not from me.
Not from this.
Vikrant glanced over again, sensing the shift in my silence. "What now?"
I adjusted the cuffs of my shirt. "Now we tighten the timeline."
He frowned. "You mean accelerate?"
"I mean pressure every player. No more delays. If anyone slows us down again, we cut them out."
"That could be risky-"
"So is breathing in this world, Vikrant."
He leaned back, nodding slowly. "Understood."
The car turned toward the main bridge, city lights spilling across the hood like a river of fire.
There are two kinds of kings in this world-those who inherit power and those who seize it.
I was born into one and built the other.
On paper, I'm the second heir of the Raichand legacy. A name whispered with reverence in boardrooms and worshipped by the stock market. My father is a legend in industrial circles. He built empires with glass towers and steel nerves. Real estate, luxury hotels. The Raichands have their fingers in every sanctioned pie India has to offer.
But I?
I created the one thing that didn't come from inheritance.
A high-end luxury jewelry brand that speaks of elegance and wealth-precious stones soaked in sin and polished with blood. Women across the globe line up to wear it. Men bankrupt themselves to gift it. Every piece handcrafted. Every piece cursed.
The media praises me for it.
They call me a visionary. A young mogul with his own crown.
They don't know I forged it in fire.
Velarè is the perfect smoke screen. It keeps eyes where I want them-on diamonds, not on flesh.
Because behind closed doors, behind encrypted files and fake subsidiaries, there's another empire.
The real one.
One built on pain. One that thrives in the shadows.
One that holds chains.
And the people I work with in that world? They're not the type who sit at press conferences or hold charity auctions.
They're men with no last names.
Women with no faces.
Ghosts that move money, bodies, secrets like chess pieces.
And I'm the hand that moves them.
But to keep that world alive, I play the perfect son in the visible one.
The boardroom meetings. The foundation events. The deals signed in marble conference halls with ten-figure contracts. I let them call me Mr. Raichand and clap when I announce another million-dollar merger.
They eat it up. Because that's the part they understand.
What they don't understand is the monster I feed in the dark.
They don't see the faces I break or the silence I buy.
Except for a few.
Like Devraj Ramaswamy.
A person with too many secrets and not enough soul. A man whose power bleeds into everything from trade to bloodlines. Our business isn't on paper. It's in whispers. I don't trust him, and he doesn't expect me to. That's what makes it work.
Then there's vikram .
My right hand. My cleaner. My shadow. A man who'd kill for me without blinking, but never stops watching. Sometimes I wonder if he's been bought. Planted. But so far, his loyalty outweighs his price.
I keep him close.
And closer still to my enemies.
Because in this business, trust is a weapon. And mine is always loaded.
My world is built on compartments.
Velarè is for the public.
Raichand Corp-the family firm-is for board meetings, old money, and public credibility.
And then there's the underground network.
The one with no name. The one I don't talk about. The one no one survives without scars.
Only a few people even know it exists.
And fewer still understand the reach of it.
I let Devraj borrow from that world when it suits him. And in return, he gives me what I need-information. Access. Favors. But make no mistake, our alliance is temporary. When I no longer need him, I'll cut his throat with the same hand he shook.
Just like I plan to do to every man sitting at my table now-unless they're already dead by the time I get there.
But Anvitha?
She's the wild card.
A piece that was never supposed to enter my game.
She doesn't know the real world she was dragged into-or how long I've watched her crawl out of it.
And she sure as hell doesn't know how deep she still is in it.
But she will.
Because soon, she won't just live in my world.
She'll belong to it.
To me.
I glanced at the reflection of my own face in the window. Calm. Controlled. Collected.
But underneath?
I could still taste her on my tongue.
Feel her skin against mine.
Her thighs parting, her breath hitching, her heartbeat pounding against my fingertips like it was mine.
No, I wasn't distracted.
I was obsessed.
And obsessions, when nurtured properly, grow into ownership.
She thinks she's running toward answers.
But what she's really doing... is running straight into my arms.
And when she falls?
I won't catch her gently.
I'll devour her.
I'll consume her .
I'll mark her .
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
People please vote yrr.
You guys can't even complete a small target-only 20 votes that what I gave you all and......
I am really disappointed 😞 😔
You should atleast vote , you only have to click a Button and you people can't even click it.
You people just demotivated me , like I am being desperate to upload next chapter but you didn't complete the target 😒, what can I say 🙄.
Vote for my chapter please!!
And I am telling you there is no sedeule for uploading the chapters so the sooner you complete the votes the you get to know what will happen next.
Target- 35 votes and 15 comment.
So love you , tata bye bye.
Hope I will see you soon because you are going to complete the vote.
Your kelly belly.
_kelly_
Write a comment ...