Tania hurried out of the bathroom, her heart racing as though it was trying to escape the weight of what had just passed between them. Her hands were still trembling from the intimacy of the moment; the touch of his skin, the realization of who he was. She didn't even wait for him to speak, to react, to do anything.

She just needed to leave, to escape whatever strange pull he had over her.

She barely made it to her room-her small, shabby refuge in this mansion of horrors-before the tears started to fall. Her back pressed against the door, and her body slid down until she was sitting on the cold floor, trying to catch her breath

Why did fate have to be so cruel

The person behind her downfall was the one she tried to save desperately that day. She stayed with him until the paramedics came. She used her medical knowledge to stop the bleeding. She even used her scarf in the process of stopping the bleeding and went to her hostel uncomfortably.

Now, her cruel fate had trapped her here, in his world, a world where she felt helpless, torn between her hatred for him and the strange pull of something she couldn't explain.
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Sarfaraaz stood under the steady stream of water, but it did little to wash away the thoughts racing through his mind.

He hadn't said a word as she left, but now, alone, he found himself stuck in the aftermath of their encounter. The feeling of her touch still lingered, soft but firm, and it unsettled him more than he cared to admit.

Vengeance had driven him for so long, fueling his every decision. But now, guilt-an emotion he hasn't allowed himself to feel in years-crept in, unwelcome and confusing.

She had saved his life once, and yet, here he was, tearing hers apart piece by piece.

Even the day she saved him, he was planning to destroy her in that very car. He was going to find her once he got out of the car.

The irony of it burned like a cruel joke from the universe, one he couldn't laugh at.

He slammed his fist against the wall, the dull thud echoing in the bathroom. What was happening to him? How had things gotten so twisted?

Sarfaraaz had built himself to be untouchable, hardened by the life he had led, by the things he had done. But Tania, a 21 year old girl, who should have been nothing more than another tool in his plan was starting to slip through the cracks in his armor. She was making him question things he didn't want to question

And that scared him.

He shut off the water, letting the silence of the room consume him. His vengeance had been so clear, so absolute, but now it was muddled, complicated by this woman who kept pushing her way into places he didn't want her to go.

Dressed again, Sarfaraaz stepped out of the bathroom, his mind still in turmoil. His heart was heavy with conflicting emotions: guilt, vengeance, confusion.

He knew he should be relieved that she had retreated to her room, that he wouldn't have to face her just yet. But instead, her absence felt wrong.

In the past five days, her silence had been like a poison. She no longer fought him like she had before; she had grown distant, quiet. And while that should have satisfied him, it only deepened the pit in his stomach. Her obedience wasn't victory-it was defeat. And somehow, that stung more than he had anticipated.
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Sarfaraaz stood there, staring at the door of her room across the hallway. His fingers clenched into fists at his sides.

His mind was screaming at him to focus-focus on the vengeance he had so carefully planned, focus on the destruction of her father's legacy, on breaking her piece by piece. But there was a crack in that plan now, one he hadn't foreseen.

He couldn't deny the pull he felt toward her, the strange, unsettling emotions that bubbled to the surface every time he was near her.
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I sat in the dimly lit corner of the bar, the glass of whiskey in my hand barely keeping me anchored. The liquid burned its way down my throat, but it wasn't enough. It couldn't drown out the storm swirling inside me, couldn't numb the constant pull of those damn hazel eyes.

Hazel.

She was everywhere-in my head, on my skin, under my goddamn skin. No matter how much I drank, no matter how hard I tried to push her out, she lingered. Her scent, her touch, her defiance.

How the hell had I let this happen? I wasn't supposed to feel anything for her.

I downed the rest of the glass, slamming it onto the table with more force than I intended. The bartender glanced my way, probably wondering if I was going to cause trouble. I ignored him, signaling for another drink. I needed more. I needed to forget.

"Are you okay?" Rahat's voice snapped me back to reality.

I looked up to see him sliding into the seat across from me, his brow furrowed with concern.

He was not only my right hand in my underworld business but also the only man I trust as my friend.

Am I okay? The question felt like a joke.

"No," I muttered. "Needed to get out of that damn house. She's everywhere."I couldn't even bring myself to say her name.

Rahat watched me for a moment, then nodded slowly, as if he understood more than I wanted him to. "You're losing yourself, man."

Losing myself?

I ran a hand through my hair, the weight of everything pressing down on me. "I need to. Just for tonight."

Rahat didn't argue. He knew better than to push me when I was like this.

Before he could respond, the sound of heels clicking against the floor drew my attention.

I glanced over, and there she was-Shanaya. My cousin, my burden. Her bright red lipstick, red dress and perfectly styled hair screamed attention.

"Sarfi" she purred, sliding into the seat next to me like she owned the place.

She brushed her hand against my arm, a gesture that was far too intimate for someone who was supposed to be family.

"I thought I'd find you here."

Of course, she'd find me here. I wasn't in the mood to deal with her. Not tonight.

"What do you want, Shanaya?" I asked, my voice was sharper than I intended.

I didn't bother looking at her. My focus was still on that goddamn memory of my Hazel's eyes-how they burned into me with every interaction, how they made me question everything.

Damn. Did I say my Hazel!

"I just want to be with you," Shanaya said, ignoring the edge in my tone. She leaned in closer, her fingers brushing against my chest now, like I was some prize she was determined to win. "You've been avoiding me. Don't tell me you're still caught up with business. You need to relax, Sarfaraaz."

Relax?

She had no idea what was going on inside me. No idea about Hazel, about the twisted mess of vengeance and guilt that was eating me alive.

"I said not tonight," I growled, but she didn't back off. She never did.

Shanaya's hand slid up on the way to my neck, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Let me help you relax."

That's when I snapped. Not because of her touch, but because of what it represented-distraction.

A distraction from Hazel.

Shanaya was here, offering herself up like some solution to my problem, but she didn't realize she was part of the problem.

I stood up abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor, catching the attention of everyone around us.

"Not tonight, Shanaya. How many times do I have to remind you of our relationship?" I said, my voice was low and hard.

Her tantrums are getting overbearing day by days. She didn't simply understand the fact that I didn't want her, not now not ever. I did accompany her as a cousin but not more than that.

"What's wrong with you?" she demanded, her irritation bubbling to the surface. "You used to let me close. Now you're pushing me away like I don't matter. What's changed?"

What's changed? Everything.The moment I realized who she really was, everything changed.

She wasn't just some woman I could discard. She was my savior. The one who had pulled me from death's grip six months ago.The girl I've been searching for for months.

And now... now she was the woman I had kidnapped, married, and broken.

I ran a hand over my face, the weight of it all crashing down. "I need to go home," I muttered, more to myself than to Shanaya.

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I sat quietly at the bar, watching Sarfaraaz nurse his drink. It wasn't like him to look this... lost, almost defeated.

The world knew Sarfaraaz Talukder as ruthless, unshakeable, a man who didn't bend or break. But I could see past all that. Behind the sharp suit and hardened eyes was a man unraveling, and I hated that I couldn't do anything about it.

That woman. I heard a whisper, but I could piece together enough. Sarfaraaz had taken her captive, and now she is his wife-my sister-in-law. The irony wasn't lost on me. Sarfaraaz wasn't just struggling with her presence; he was consumed by it.

Every drink he took tonight was an attempt to drown the chaos she'd unleashed inside him. But the alcohol wasn't numbing the pain. I could see that clearly.

As I watched Shanaya drift towards Sarfaraaz, her body language screamed desperation-a desperation that made my heart ache, even though I knew she was degrading herself.

Her futile attempts to seduce him, again and again, felt like knives cutting into me. Why did she do this to herself? Why did she humiliate her own heart just to get a momentary flicker of Sarfaraaz's attention?

I should've looked away, but I couldn't. It was like watching a fire consume something beautiful. I hated it, yet I couldn't hate her for it. Not even close.

How could I? She didn't deserve this indifference. If only it were me. If I could stand in Sarfaraaz's place, I'd give her everything she craved: devotion, affection, love. But I was just a shadow, watching from the side.

Sarfaraaz barely looked at her. His mind was miles away, tangled in whatever storm Tania had thrown his way.

Seeing him like this worried me. My friend, the man who had survived the darkest pits of life, now seemed to be losing his grip over himself, caught between the flames of hatred and something far more dangerous-desire

___________________________

Rahat, who had been standing by the bar looking at us with a look I could not read in my drunken state.

He heard me and approached cautiously. "You sure you're okay to go?"

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Rahat knew better than to argue when I got like this. He took the keys, and I followed him out into the night, leaving Shanaya and her questions behind.

As the cool air hit my face, the chaos in my head only intensified. I wasn't running from Shanaya. I was running from Hazel-from Tania. But no matter how far I went, I couldn't escape her.

Rahat dropped me off, offering one last concerned look before driving away.

I stood outside the house for a moment, staring at the door, knowing what waited inside.

I needed to get her out of my system. I needed to forget the pull of her eyes, the way her touch lingered on my skin.

But the more I tried, the more impossible it seemed. And then, as I stepped inside, all I could think was, Why did it have to be her?

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He stumbled toward her room, the sound of his footsteps loud against the quiet night.

His fists landed heavily against the wooden door, rattling it in its frame."Open the damn door," he barked, his voice hoarse and filled with an urgency he couldn't fully comprehend.

Inside, Tania jolted awake, her heart pounding in terror. Her cheeks were still damp from the tears she had cried herself to sleep with. Hearing the loud banging at her door, a new wave of fear surged through her.

There he stood-Sarfaraaz, the man who had kidnapped her, ruined her, and shattered her life. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair disheveled, and the scent of alcohol hung heavily on him. Yet, beneath the intoxication, there was something raw and broken in his gaze, something she hadn't seen before.

"Why does it have to be you?" he slurred, his words a fractured mess of regret and confusion.

His gaze lingered on Tania, hazel eyes meeting his for a brief second before she dropped them to the floor, not wanting to engage, not wanting to fall into whatever storm was brewing in him.

She stood there, frozen, torn between wanting to push him away and the confusing pull she felt whenever he was near.

His massive frame filled the room, making it seem even smaller than usual. But tonight, he wasn't the unrelenting force that had wrecked her life. He was something else.

"Why, Hazel?" The name he had always called her spilled from his lips again, but this time it felt different. Less like the teasing reminder of her striking eyes, and more like a confession he didn't want to make.Tania stiffened at the sound of the name.

Hazel. He had called her that since the first day he had locked eyes with her. A nickname that once felt like mockery now carried a weight she couldn't.

Before she could process the tension in the air, his legs buckled beneath him. Tania gasped as his heavy body collapsed into her, his broad chest pressing against her small frame. His face buried itself against her neck, his warm breath sending a jolt through her as he spoke, his voice soft and raw."What are you, Hazel?"

Her heart skipped a beat at the words, the softness in them catching her off guard. Before she could respond, she felt him shift slightly, his face brushing against her collarbone.

A moment later, he inhaled deeply, his nose grazing her skin as he took in her scent. The intimacy of the act made her pulse race, her breath catching in her throat.

Then, unexpectedly, his lips brushed against her collarbone in a light, almost innocent kiss, leaving a trail of warmth where his mouth had touched. It wasn't the rough, possessive touch she had come to associate with him-it was something different, something far more dangerous because of the vulnerability laced within it.

Tania's body went rigid, her heart pounding as she fought the confusing sensations rushing through her. She hated him-he was the man who had ruined her life-but the feeling of his lips against her skin, the way he had collapsed into her, spoke of something more than hatred.

And that frightened her.

But just as quickly as the kiss came, it was gone. His weight slumped fully into her, his body heavy and limp as the alcohol finally claimed him. His head rested against her shoulder, his breathing slowing, his body surrendering to a deep, drunken sleep.

For a moment, Tania stood frozen, staring down at the man who had brought so much pain into her life. She should have shoved him away, should have let him crash to the floor. But instead, she found herself holding him upright, her heart still racing from the contact.

She exhaled shakily, guiding him down to the floor with surprising gentleness, his large frame crumpling at her feet. He was completely out now, lost in the haze of sleep, his face softened by exhaustion and whatever demons had driven him to her room that night.

Tania stood over him for a long moment, her mind a whirl of conflicting emotions. His touch still lingered on her skin, a haunting reminder of the moment that had just passed. She didn't understand it, didn't want to understand it.

With a sigh, she grabbed the thin blanket from her bed and draped it over him, barely covering his broad shoulders. It was the only kindness she could offer in a moment where her own emotions were far too raw, too confused.

Turning away, she curled up on her small bed, her back facing him. The room felt impossibly small with him in it, his presence a constant reminder of everything that had gone wrong.

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to ignore the steady sound of his breathing behind her, willing herself to forget the strange warmth his touch had left on her skin.But sleep didn't come easily, and as she lay there, his earlier words echoed in her mind

Why, Hazel?
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In the Morning

The morning sun filtered through the small, grimy window of Tania's room, casting a dim light. As she slowly stirred from sleep, she became aware of the weight on the floor beside her.
Sarfaraaz lay sprawled out, his imposing figure a stark contrast to her tiny room.

Tania blinked, taking in the sight of him, the man who had upended her life. A surge of defiance bubbled up inside her. She nudged him with her foot, breaking the silence that had settled over them.

"Morning, Mr. Dark," she said, her tone laced with a mixture of sass and the remnants of her earlier fear. "How does it feel to be lying at my feet?"

Sarfaraaz stirred, blinking away the haze of sleep. He looked up at her with a steely gaze, the coldness in his eyes unmistakable, though not devoid of complexity.

"It's an unusual position for me," he replied, his voice carrying a chill but lacking any real harshness.

She was sitting on the edge of the bed, with a smile on her face feeling triumphant for the first time in what seemed like forever. For a brief moment, she enjoyed watching him beneath her, vulnerable, after everything he had put her through.

But her triumph was short-lived.

But in a swift motion, Sarfaraaz reached for her wrist, his grip firm but not harsh. Before she could react, he pulled her down, making her land on his chest with a surprised gasp, her face mere inches from his chest.

She froze for a moment, her hands braced against his bare skin on his chest, her heart racing at the sudden closeness. His hand slid under the hem of her shirt, his fingers resting on the soft skin of her waist, and she could feel the heat of his touch spreading through her.

"Still enjoying your little victory, Hazel?" he whispered, his deep voice sending a ripple of tension between them. His fingers moved slowly, grazing her bare waist in a way that was far too intimate, far too familiar.

The warmth of his touch ignited a dangerous tension between them. For a brief moment, she felt the pull; his body, solid beneath hers, the way his breath quickened just slightly as his hand rested on her waist. She could smell the faint scent of cologne mixed with the lingering scent of alcohol from his late-night binge.

She remembered how his lips had pressed against her skin in a moment of vulnerability.

But she wasn't going to let him win this time.

"You..." she whispered, her voice faltering just slightly before she forced it to steady again. "You think this is going to scare me? You think you can pull me down and make me forget everything you've done?"

He raised an eyebrow, eyes still locked on hers. "Does it look like I'm trying to make you forget?"

His words, as cold as they were, brushed against her like a challenge.

Her body was still pressed against him, his hands were on her skin making patterns and every time she tried to shift, the friction between them sent a jolt of awareness through her skin.

She cursed herself internally for the traitorous warmth pooling in her stomach, for the way her breath seemed to catch every time he looked at her with that dark, unreadable gaze.

Yet, she held her ground.

"Let me go," she demanded, though her voice wasn't as firm as she wanted it to be.

"Make me. Do you think you can win? Little woman" he replied, his tone laced with cold amusement.

Tania's heart raced, but she wasn't about to let him win. Not this time.

With a deliberate slowness, she leaned in, her lips hovering just above his skin, the heat of her breath teasing him. Her hazel eyes gleamed with a dangerous mix of defiance and seduction as she locked her gaze with his, daring him to challenge her.

She trailed her fingers down his chest, tracing slow, maddening patterns along the firm lines of his muscles. His body tensed under her touch, a pulse of raw heat surging between them. His breath hitched, heavier now, betraying him.

For a fleeting second, he seemed caught off guard, the usual control he held over everything slipping through his fingers.

She smiled mischievously, her lips just inches from his ear. "I do," she whispered, her breath warm against his skin, "but I think you're the one who's losing."

His grip on her waist tightened, his body reacting to her in a way he couldn't hide, but just as quickly, she pulled herself up, breaking the moment and leaving him lying there, stunned.

As Tania stood up, adjusting her shirt with that victorious smile still on her lips, "Maybe next time, Mr. Dark"

Sarfaraaz lay on the floor, his chest rising and falling with a new kind of tension. Her little act hadn't just left him stunned-it had aroused him in a way he hadn't anticipated.

His body reacted to her, his heart pounding faster, and for the first time, the usual control he held over himself was slipping, shattering under her touch.

"Fuck!" he cursed under his breath.

He clenched his jaw, trying to suppress the heat that surged through him, but the way her fingers had trailed across his chest, the feel of her breath against his skin, had already ignited something he couldn't ignore.

He didn't expect this side of her.
Now he really needs an ice cold shower to calm down the fire she ignited.

Tania, oblivious to the extent of his reaction-or maybe fully aware- turned slightly, throwing him a teasing glance over her shoulder. She could see the darkened look in his eyes, the way his hand twitched as though resisting the urge to reach out for her again. And it gave her a sense of satisfaction, knowing she had affected him.

She had won, for now.

Sarfaraaz, still lying there, aroused and frustrated, couldn't tear his gaze away from her. His body screamed at him to pull her back, to finish what she had started, but his mind battled against the pull. He had never been this vulnerable before- not with her, not with anyone.

Sarfaraaz smirked darkly, his voice low and rough, "Játszol a tűzzel, kis feleségem..." (You're playing with fire, my little wife) he murmured, his eyes narrowing with both frustration and a twisted sense of admiration. "Vigyázz, édesem..." (Be careful, sweetheart) he added, his words dripping with both a warning and a challenge.

Tania paused for a moment, she also did not expect her to act like this.

"What are you making me, Sarfaraaz?" she said internally.

She never even held the hand of a man. Let alone this!

Her heart was still racing, but she didn't turn back to face him. Instead, she savored the quiet satisfaction of knowing that, for once, she had the upper hand in their battle.
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