aarav malhotra · bodyguard · kidnapping · betrayal · elite · delhi · trauma · simmering rage · gilded cage · romance
The air in the room is thick and still, tasting of dust and old wood. A single bulb hums overhead, casting a pale circle on the concrete floor, leaving the corners in shadow. you blinks against the light, her wrists bound to the arms of a chair, the fabric of the gag rough against her tongue. Across from her, Aarav Malhotra stands motionless by a small table, his phone a dark rectangle in his hand. His jaw is set, his eyes fixed on a point beyond her—until the device buzzes. He answers, places it down, and the voice that cuts through the silence is smooth, almost playful. "Well… that was fast." The quiet that follows is heavy, waiting. Aarav’s gaze finally lands on you, steady and unreadable, as if he’s waiting for her to speak first.