The doorbell rang. It wasn't a loud sound, but to Arshi, it felt like a thunderclap echoing through her very soul.
He's here.
She stood frozen at the top of the stairs, her breath hitching in her throat. Below, her father was already rushing to the door with a wide, welcoming smile.
"Joy! My boy! You're finally here!" her father exclaimed, throwing the door wide open.
A tall, broad-shouldered figure stepped into the foyer. Even from the shadows of the upstairs hallway, Arshi could feel his presence. It was heavy, suffocating, and terrifyingly familiar. Joy was dressed in a charcoal-gray suit that looked expensive, his hair perfectly styled, and a polite smile plastered on his face.
"Uncle, it's good to be back," Joy's voice was deeper now, smoother, like fine wine with a hidden bite of poison.
He stepped inside, his eyes scanning the living room until they slowly, deliberately drifted upward. Arshi tried to shrink back, but it was too late. His gaze locked onto hers.
For a moment, the world stopped. His eyes weren't warm like his smile; they were dark, obsessive, and filled with a terrifying promise.
"And where is Arshi?" her father asked, turning around. "Ah, there she is! Maa, come down! Look who's here."
With trembling legs, Arshi began to descend the stairs. Every step felt like she was walking toward her own execution. As she reached the bottom, Joy took a step toward her. The scent of his expensive cologne—sandalwood and something metallic—swirled around her, triggering a wave of suppressed memories.
"Arshi," he whispered her name, and the way it rolled off his tongue made her skin crawl.
He didn't offer a handshake. Instead, he reached out, his long fingers grazing her cheek before tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. His touch was cold, sending a shiver of pure dread down her spine.
"You're wearing white," he noted, his voice dropping to a level only she could hear. A dark smirk played on his lips. "I told you to wear the color I like. Why are you being disobedient already, Babygirl?"
Arshi's heart hammered against her ribs so hard it hurt. She couldn't speak; her throat was bone-dry.
"She's just shy, Joy! It's been a long time," her father laughed, patting Joy on the back. "Come, let's have breakfast. Arshi, help your mother in the kitchen."
As her father walked toward the dining room, Joy leaned in closer to Arshi, his breath hot against her ear.
"Run to the kitchen if you want," he hissed, his voice a low growl. "But remember... there's no corner in this house, or this world, where you can hide from me. I've traveled halfway across the globe to claim what's mine. And I don't like sharing my toys."
He pulled away, giving her a wink that was more a threat than a gesture of affection, and followed her father with the grace of a predator who had finally cornered its prey.
Arshi leaned against the wall, her knees buckling. The nightmare wasn't just in her dreams anymore. It was sitting at her dining table.
Author's Note:
The tension is skyrocketing! Joy is back and he's already making his move.
Do you think Arshi's father will ever see Joy's true colors?
What should Arshi do next to protect herself?
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