We Meet Again

Darkness came before pain.

Not the complete absence of light, not the merciful kind that allowed sleep to continue uninterrupted—but a suffocating, breathing darkness. The kind that pressed against her eyelids like a living thing. Heavy. Thick. Smothering.

It felt as though the world had been wrapped in layers of shadow and lowered into something deep and cold.

Meera’s consciousness returned slowly.

First, the cold.

It seeped into her skin before she understood what it was. It crept through the fabric of her clothes, slid beneath them, coiled around her spine. The surface beneath her was hard—unyielding. Damp. Concrete.

The sensation anchored her to reality.

Then came the ache.

A dull throb bloomed behind her temples, spreading outward in slow pulses. Her head felt too heavy for her neck. Her body felt distant, as if it no longer entirely belonged to her. Weak. Drained. Hollowed out from the inside.

She tried to move.

Metal clinked.

The sharp sound sliced through the silence like a blade.

Her breath hitched violently in her throat.

She froze.

Slowly—too slowly—awareness settled in.

Her wrists.

They were bound.

Rope. Thick. Coarse. Pulled tight behind her back. It bit into her skin with every shallow movement. Her fingers twitched uselessly, numb at the tips.

Her ankles were tied too. Bound close enough to make movement impossible. Every small shift tugged the restraints deeper into her skin.

Panic didn’t arrive gently.

It surged.

It exploded in her chest like a scream that had nowhere to go. Her lungs burned. Her heart began hammering against her ribs so violently she thought she might faint again.

“No… no…” The words barely formed. Her voice cracked, dry and fragile, hardly louder than a breath.

Her eyelids fluttered open.

The basement was dimly lit by a single bulb hanging from the ceiling. It swayed slightly, casting long, distorted shadows that crawled across the walls like silent spectators.

The air smelled wrong.

Iron.

Damp stone.

Rust.

Her stomach twisted.

Blood.

The scent clung to the air so heavily she could taste it at the back of her throat.

She swallowed hard and forced herself to sit up straighter. Pain flared instantly, tearing through her limbs. Her muscles screamed in protest. Her head swam.

Where am I?

Memory didn’t return all at once.

It rushed back in fragments.

The alley.

The echo of a gunshot splitting the night.

A man screaming.

Cold eyes watching death happen like it was routine. Like it was nothing.

Her breathing turned shallow, erratic.

That man.

Her gaze darted around the room.

Chains hung from the walls, some rusted, some disturbingly polished. A metal table stood near the far corner, stained dark in places she didn’t want to identify. A drain sat near the center of the floor, rusted and smeared red.

The floor bore scars. Scratches. Marks. Evidence of violence time had failed to erase.

Tears blurred her vision.

“I didn’t do anything,” she whispered into the emptiness. “Please… I didn’t do anything.”

Her body trembled violently now, fear wrapping around her tighter than the ropes.

I just wanted to save my brother.

Aarav’s face flashed before her eyes.

Pale.

Weak.

Small hands lying limply on a hospital bed. Machines breathing for him. Tubes running everywhere.

Her chest constricted painfully.

“I’m sorry, Aaru,” she sobbed silently. “I’m trying… I swear I’m trying.”

Her shoulders shook.

And then—

She felt it.

The sensation of being watched.

Not imagined.

Not paranoia.

Real.

Her tears slowed as her body stiffened.

Very slowly, she lifted her gaze toward the darker corner of the basement.

Meanwhile—

He was sitting comfortably on the sofa across the room.

Calm.

Silent.

A bunny plushie rested in his lap, white fur clean and soft against the darkness surrounding him.

His fingers moved slowly, almost absently, playing with one of its ears.

Like he had all the time in the world.

Like nothing about this scene was urgent.

Like fear was not filling the room.

He had been watching her wake up.

Waiting.

And when she finally regained consciousness—

Their eyes met.

The tremor in her body stilled.

Fear replaced the fragile peace that had lingered in unconsciousness.

Her throat tightened.

It was him.

The man from the alley.

Up close, he looked even more composed. Dark suit. Crisp collar. Not a single crease out of place. His posture was relaxed, one leg crossed over the other.

Her breath caught so sharply it hurt.

He didn’t move immediately.

Didn’t rush.

Didn’t speak.

His fingers continued to stroke the bunny’s ear in slow, almost affectionate motions.

Her heartbeat roared in her ears.

“You’re awake,” he said quietly.

His voice was smooth. Controlled. Almost gentle.

The softness unsettled her more than a shout would have.

She tried to speak but her mouth felt dry.

“You…” she whispered.

“Yes” A faint curve touched his lips, not quite a smile. “We meet again, babygirl.”

Her pulse raced violently.

She tried to speak but he silenced her with his finger.

As he tilted his head slightly, studying her tear-soaked face. Observing every tremble. Every attempt to gather strength.

Her wrists pulled uselessly against the rope again.

The faint metal clink echoed.

His eyes flickered briefly to the sound.

A small smile curved his lips.

“You faint easily,” he said calmly, his voice low, smooth…terrifyingly gentle. “That could’ve been a problem.”

Her blood ran cold. She stared at him, tears streaming freely now, her body curled inward instinctively despite the ropes.

“I just…I just want to go to the hospital,” she said while crying. “My brother is sick, he needs me.”

He rose from the sofa with unhurried grace.

The bunny plushie remained in his hand.

He walked toward her.

Each step measured.

Each movement was deliberate.

He stopped directly in front of her.

He crouched down in front of her, bringing himself to her level. Too close — she could smell smoke and something darker beneath it.

“You were in the wrong place, at the wrong time,” he whispered, his eyes locking on hers. “And you know that… don’t you, babygirl?”

“P-Please leave me ,” she rushed out, words tripping over each other. “I swear. I won’t tell anyone. I won’t—”

But his gaze dropped briefly to her cheek.

A faint mark lingered there.

Finger-shaped.

Old. Not from him.

His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.

He lifted a hand.

She flinched violently.

But instead of striking her, his fingers hovered near her face.

He traced the air near the bruise without touching it.

“Who did that?” he asked quietly.

The question startled her.

“What?”

“The handprint.”

His tone changed.

It wasn’t louder.

It was colder.

Her lips trembled.

“It doesn’t matter,” she whispered.

His eyes darkened.

“It matters.”

His thumb brushed lightly against her bruised lip.

The touch was unexpectedly gentle.

Her entire body froze.

“Who slapped you, babygirl?” he asked.

The word shouldn’t have sounded soft.

It shouldn’t have sounded almost… intimate.

But it did.

Tears spilled again.

“My aunt,” she choked. “She—she said things about my parents—I just asked for help and she—”

His expression shifted.

Not outrage.

Not sympathy.

Something deeper.

Something territorial.

His fingers lingered at the corner of her mouth.

“Who had the courage,” he murmured slowly, “to touch what’s mine?”

Her eyes widened in shock.

“I’m not—” she started.

His hand moved from her lip to her jaw, tilting her face upward slightly.

“You are here,” he said calmly. “In my basement. Bound to my chair.”

A faint smile ghosted his lips.

“That makes you mine. For now.”

Her heart slammed violently against her ribs.

She shook her head desperately.

He was observing her whole face while standing in front of her—the way she sniffed softly, the way her hazel-brown eyes had turned red from crying, the way her nose scrunched slightly when she tried to hold back tears.

He looked deeper into her eyes.

Hazel. Warm. Distractingly alive.

For a second, she didn’t look like a witness.

She looked like something untouched by his world.

His gaze dropped slowly to her lips.

Soft. Trembling. Slightly parted.

She noticed.

Her lashes fluttered downward immediately, cheeks flushing pink like a shy child caught staring too long. She looked at the floor, fingers curling into her dress.

He had seen women throw themselves at him before.

But this?

This was different.

She wasn’t trying.

And somehow that made it worse.

Heck.

She was seducing him without doing anything at all.

“You seem younger. Where are your parents? Answer me honestly, and I’ll let you go.” He asked her, wanting to know about her.

“T-they died 7 years a-ago when I was 15” she said, still sobbing a little, and he scoffed.

“Don’t waste tears yet.” he said softly. “Or I’ll give you something real to cry about.” Meera tried to ignore his words. She could sense that she had gotten herself into something dangerous.

“Then you are younger than me? And how dare you watch us secretly?” He asked her, grabbing her chin tightly, she looked into his eyes.

She was scared of him but something in her tried to answer his questions, His touch sent a confusing warmth through her, one she immediately hated herself for noticing.

“I-i didn’t do it intentionally, please trust me.. d-dont whip me l-like him..” she said when she still had tears in her eyes.

“Okay, so you want to get out of here” he said, but in his mind, he had other plans for her, hell no way he will let this girl go so easily from his grip.

“ You have to do work for me” he said and dared to look into her eyes, as he smirked.

Her stomach twisted.

“Untie her” he ordered his guards and they started to untie her. “Be quick,” he said.

As soon as the rope was untied from her body, she stood up and looked into his eyes for once and looked at her feet, she was shorter than him.

“follow me” he said and walked away and she followed him like a lost puppy as they both came into the dining room.

“Kabir.” His voice echoed through the mansion.

Kabir instantly came and walked toward him. “Yes, bhai?”

Riaan’s sharp eyes flicked toward the girl standing frozen near the door, her hands trembling, eyes lowered in fear.

“Who is she?” Kabir asked softly, noticing her state. “And why does she look like she’s about to faint?”

Riaan didn’t answer immediately. His gaze never left Meera.

“She saw something she shouldn’t have,” he said coldly. “That’s all you need to know.”

Kabir frowned. He turned toward Meera and lowered his voice, making sure not to scare her.

“Hey… don’t be afraid,” he said gently. “What’s your name?”

“M-Meera,” she replied in a whisper.

Kabir’s expression softened instantly. He noticed her tear-stained cheeks, the way she kept rubbing her palms together nervously.

“How old are you?” he asked.

“Twenty-One.”

Kabir’s jaw tightened. He looked back at Riaan, disbelief flashing in his eyes.

“Bhai,” he said quietly, “she’s just a kid.”

Shiddarth stepped closer, his playful expression gone as well. “Yeah,” he added seriously. “She doesn’t look like someone who belongs to this world.”

Meera swallowed hard, fear creeping back into her eyes.

Kabir noticed immediately.

“Listen to me,” he said gently, standing in front of her. “No one is going to hurt you here. You don’t need to be scared.”

She looked at him hesitantly, as if unsure whether to believe him.

Shiddarth smiled softly and nodded. “He’s right. From now on, you’re safe here.”

Meera's voice trembled. “B-but… he—” she glanced at Riaan and stopped.

Kabir followed her gaze and sighed. “He looks scary, I know,” he said lightly, trying to ease her fear. “But trust me, he won’t hurt you.”

Shiddarth added with a small grin, “And if he even tries, you’ll have two brothers standing in front of you.”

Her eyes widened. “B-brothers?”

Kabir nodded firmly. “Yes. From now on, I’m your brother.”

“And I’m the annoying one,” Shiddarth said, smiling. “So you’re stuck with both of us.”

Meera’s lips trembled, and fresh tears filled her eyes — but this time, they weren’t from fear.

“T-thank you…” she whispered.

Kabir smiled warmly. “You don’t need to thank us. You just need to stop looking like you’re about to faint.”

Shiddarth leaned closer and stage-whispered, “Yeah, because if you faint, he’ll think you’re pretending, and then things get… dramatic.”

Meera’s eyes widened in alarm.

Kabir shot Shiddarth a glare. “That was NOT comforting.”

Shiddarth shrugged. “I’m trying my best here. Comfort isn’t really our family talent.”

For the first time, Meera let out a tiny, nervous breath—almost a laugh.

Riaan watched everything in silence, something heavy settling in his chest.

Why did it bother him… that she looked relieved?

Why did he hate the idea of her feeling safe because of someone else?

That strange pull.

Dangerous.

Unwanted.

Irresistible.

He clenched his fists.

This girl had no idea.

She had just stepped into his world.

And once she did…

there was no going back.

Riaan cleared his throat, the softness in the room irritating him more than the chaos earlier.

“If you both are done,” he said coldly, breaking the moment, “call the maid and get her some food.”

Kabir turned toward him, surprised. “Food?”

“She hasn’t eaten,” Riaan replied sharply. “And I don’t like repeating myself.”

Shiddarth raised an eyebrow, a teasing smirk forming on his lips. “Look at you,” he said. “Ordering food for strangers now?”

Riaan shot him a warning glare. “Do you want to test your luck tonight?”

Shiddarth immediately held his hands up. “Alright, alright. I’m calling the maid.”

Kabir looked at Meera again, noticing how her eyes followed every movement anxiously.

“Don’t worry,” he told her gently. “Eat properly. No one is watching you here.” Meera nodded with her head down.

“Martha,” Shiddarth called out. “Bring food. Something warm.”

Within minutes, the maid arrived with a plate of food and placed it on the table in front of Meera.

Riaan settled himself on the couch, his gaze fixed on her.

“Sit,” he ordered calmly.

She obeyed instantly, sitting down with hesitation and gulped down her saliva and looked at his eyes.

He put a glass of water in front of her and she looked at him while drinking water, and saw that he was staring into her soul as she choked on water and started coughing.

He was so pissed off by her behaviour, he didn’t like the way she was scared of him.

But he saw one thing how innocent she is to this cruel world.

Kabir pulled a chair closer to her. “Drink slowly,” he said. “You’re safe.”

Meera glanced at Riaan one last time before looking down at the table.

He was in his thoughts when the maid brought a plate of food and placed it on the table.

He saw that Meera gulped after looking at the food.

“eat” he said, which sounded like a demand.

“h-huhh?” She exclaimed, wasn't he being too kind to her?

“What huh? Don’t look at my face now” he said as she looked at his eyes and then looked at the food again looking at his eyes.

“What? Do you want me to feed you?” She panicked and shook her head as no, What if he mixed poison in it?

“Don’t worry, I didn’t mix poison into it” he said, smirking and she looked at him with wide eyes and as he was watching her, or we can say admiring her.

Shiddarth leaned back casually. “See? That’s his version of ‘please.’”

Kabir added softly, “Just eat. If you don’t, he’ll stare like that.”

Meera glanced at Riaan, then back at the plate. “H-he’s already staring…”

Shiddarth grinned. “Told you.”

Riaan shot him a look.

Shiddarth immediately pretended to zip his lips.

The way her lips turned into a pout while chewing the food, and the way she frowned her eyebrows when she liked the taste of food, she was a different kind of girl, so innocent compared to the women he had met—women who gawked at his body.

After some time she finished eating and looked at him “T-thank y-you for the foo-d” she said while stuttering badly he was still looking at her firmly.

Kabir nodded approvingly. “Good girl.”

Shiddarth clapped once. “Achievement unlocked: Survived dinner with Devil.”

Riaan’s jaw tightened. “You both talk too much.”

Kabir smiled. “And yet, you keep us around.”

Shiddarth added, “Because deep down, you love us.”

Riaan didn’t reply.

But he didn’t tell them to leave either.

“Martha” he yelled again, “Yes Master” she arrived.

“take these dishes from here” he ordered her as she went away with the dishes.

“So, babygirl… tell me. What is your name?” He asked her.

“I’m M-Meera Sharma” she said and he hummed, she was nervous.

“What job do you do?” He asked her again, she was trembling all the time and biting her lips. He urged to touch her beautiful lips but controlled himself.

“I was working as a waitress… b-but our manager kicked me away because I broke a pla-te” she said, feeling embarrassed and he hummed again.

“What happened to your brother?” He asked and her eyes saddened.

“He has cancer, I had to take the money for him this week itself, but the manager k-kicked me away,” she said with a pout and teary eyes.

Somehow he feels the urge to protect her from this world, but he has to get a grip on himself.

“If I give you a job, will you do it?” He asked her, before Meera could answer, Shiddarth leaned forward.

“Fair warning,” he said lightly, “the job comes with free food, shelter… and emotional trauma.”

Kabir elbowed him hard.

“I mean,” Shiddarth corrected, “character development.”

Meera blinked, confused.

Kabir smiled gently. “Ignore him. Just think carefully, okay?”

“Y-yes I will d-do anything I need to save money for my brother..” She said, wiping her tears.

Riaan watched her closely.

Still innocent.

Still brave.

And now—

still his.

✦ ─────── ✦

Author’s Note

This story lives in the shadows.

It is not a tale of perfect heroes or gentle love. It is a story about broken worlds colliding — about innocence stepping into darkness, about control and vulnerability, about fear tangled with something far more dangerous.

The characters you are about to follow are flawed. Some are cruel. Some are damaged. Some don’t yet understand what they are becoming. Their choices won’t always be right. Their emotions won’t always be pure.

This is a dark romance.

There will be tension. Possessiveness. Power imbalance. Moral gray areas. Emotional intensity. If you are looking for soft love and simple comfort, this may not be the place.

But if you are here for depth… for obsession… for characters who fight their own demons as fiercely as they fight each other — then welcome.

Please read with an open mind and remember: this is fiction. The darkness exists to tell a story, not to glorify harm.