"YOU..." Ayden's voice cracked, his eyes widening as the fog of confusion finally cleared. The memory hit him like a physical blow.

"I remember you. You were in that club."

He struggled against the ropes, panic rising in his chest. "Why are you doing this? What do you want from me?" he shouted furiously.

But Karan didn't flinch. He simply stood there, arms crossed over his broad chest, that calm, terrifying smirk fixed on his face. It was a look that didn't promise pain—it promised ruin.

"Wow. I'm impressed," Karan said, his voice dripping with mock sweetness. "You actually remember me." He took a slow step forward, the heels of his shoes clicking against the concrete.

"Well, now that you're awake and in your right senses, let me introduce myself properly. I'm Dr. Karan Malhotra. A doctor... and sometimes, not so much a doctor. Like right now."

"Why am I here? What do you want—"

SMACK.

The sound of the slap echoed through the small concrete room like a gunshot.

Ayden's head snapped violently to the right, his cheek stinging as if it had been branded. Before he could even process the pain, Karan's hand shot out, grabbing a fistful of Ayden's hair and yanking his head back to force eye contact.

Karan leaned in close, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "I don't like getting interrupted. You better keep that in your fucking mind."

He released Ayden's hair with a shove and turned away, walking calmly toward a metal trolley table positioned on the left side of the room.

Karan opened the drawer. The harsh overhead light glinted off the stainless steel tray inside. There, arranged with surgical precision, lay his instruments.

He ran his fingers over them before making his selection. He picked up a scalpel with a razor-sharp blade and a pair of heavy, toothed surgical forceps.

He turned back to Ayden, the scalpel gleaming in his hand as he towered over the bound man.

"So, let me answer your question first, so you'll know exactly why you're getting this punishment."

Ayden froze. His eyes were glued to the blade in Karan's hand, his breath coming in short, terrified gasps. He was shaking, the metal chair rattling slightly against the floor.

"Tell me..." Karan began casually, testing the weight of the scalpel in his palm. "What do you think about Aira?"

Ayden blinked, his defiance crumbling into pure terror as he looked at the tools. "Aira?" he stammered, his voice trembling. "She's... she's just a friend. We are classmates. I swear."

"Oh, I see," Karan nodded slowly, looking amused. "So what kind of friendship is this where you call her baby?"

The question hung in the air, heavy and suffocating.

"I... I didn't mean it!" Ayden cried out, tears mixing with the sweat on his face. "It just happened! I won't ever speak to her like that again, I promise! Please, just let me go!"

"Don't you think it's a little too late for being sorry now?" Karan asked, tilting his head.

"Please! I swear I didn't know!" Ayden begged, hyperventilating. "I won't do this, I promise, just please don't—"

CRACK.

Before Ayden could finish the plea, Karan's fist connected with his jaw. The force was brutal.

"Ahhh!" Ayden cried out as the momentum tipped him backward. Bound to the heavy metal chair, he had no way to break his fall. He crashed onto the concrete floor with a deafening clang, the impact knocking the wind out of him.

Karan didn't stop. He walked toward the fallen man and knelt down beside him. He grabbed Ayden's hair again, lifting his head up just to slam it back down against the hard ground.

Thud.

The silence that followed the thud was deafening.

Karan stood up slowly, brushing an invisible speck of dust from his pristine black shirt. He looked down at Ayden, who was groaning in agony, his face pressed against the gritty concrete floor, blood trickling from his nose.

With a heavy sigh—as if this were a chore he was already bored of—Karan moved to the back of the chair. He braced his foot against the base for leverage and, with a grunt of exertion, hauled the heavy deadweight of the chair and Ayden back upright. The metal legs scraped loudly against the floor as they slammed back into place.

Ayden's head lolled forward, dazed. His jaw was swelling rapidly, turning a violent shade of purple.

"Look at me," Karan commanded.

Ayden didn't move fast enough. Karan reached out, his fingers clamping around Ayden's jaw, digging his thumb into the fresh bruise.

"AHHH!" Ayden screamed, his eyes flying open.

"There you are," Karan smiled—a cold, clinical smile. He released Ayden's jaw and picked up the scalpel again.

"The tongue..." Karan mused, holding the scalpel hovering over Ayden's open mouth. "It allows speech. It allows you to utter words you have no business saying. If I cut it out, the blood loss would be severe. You might choke. You might die."

Karan pulled back, retracting the scalpel.

"And I don't want you to die, Ayden. I want you to suffer."

He then walked to the tray and swapped the heavy forceps for a smaller, finer blade. He turned back, but this time, he didn't aim for the face.

He aimed for the throat.

"The voice," Karan whispered, tracing the cold metal tip of the scalpel lightly over Ayden's Adam's apple. Ayden froze, his eyes bulging. "It comes from here. The vocal cords. Two tiny, delicate folds of tissue."

Karan leaned in, his voice terrifiedly soft.

"If I sever them... just right... you won't bleed to death instantly. You'll be able to breathe. You'll be able to eat."

Karan's eyes turned pitch black.

"But you will never, ever speak her name again. You will never call her 'baby.' You will open your mouth to scream, and nothing but air will come out."

Ayden began to thrash, a primal sound of panic erupting from his chest. "NO! PL—"

"Shhh," Karan said, pinning Ayden against the chair with one hand on his chest, the scalpel poised over the hollow of his throat. "Consider this a surgery. My masterpiece."

Slash.

A deep, precise incision tore through the skin and cartilage.

Blood sprayed instantly, a violent arc of crimson splattering against the concrete. Karan stepped back smoothly, dodging the red mist just in time.

Ayden's scream turned into a wet, broken gurgle. He gasped, choking, blood pouring down his neck, soaking his shirt. He tried to form words, tried to beg, but the sound was gone. Stolen.

Karan stood at a safe distance, checking his sleeves for any stray droplets. He watched Ayden mouthing silent screams with a look of pure satisfaction.

"Much better," Karan said, tossing the bloody scalpel onto the tray. "Silence suits you."

He checked his Rolex again.

"Now, clean him up. Patch the wound before he bleeds out," Karan ordered the guard in the shadows. "And keep him alive. I want him to remember this tomorrow."

With that, Karan turned and walked out of the room, locking the monster behind him, and began his ascent up the stairs—transforming from the devil back into the doctor with every step he took.

🥀🥀🥀

Aira's POV

The gloomy morning eventually gave way to a fragile hope.

Outside, the heavy clouds began to fracture, allowing shy, pale sunrays to finally peek through the grey, illuminating the wet grass. After a silent breakfast, Aira found herself in the only place in this massive, imposing estate that didn't feel like a cage.

The garden.

It was her sanctuary. Surrounded by high walls but filled with life—blooming flowers, towering ancient trees that whispered in the wind, and a small stone fountain that trickled water in a soothing rhythm. The birds were chirping, unaware of the darkness that lived inside the house.

Aira sat on the white iron swing, pushing herself gently. Creak... Creak... The rhythmic motion soothed her frayed nerves as she looked up at the patch of blue sky.

She closed her eyes, letting the internal conversation begin. It was a habit now—a meeting between her hopeful Logic and her treacherous Heart.

"So tell me, Aira," her Brain whispered, trying to keep her focused. "What is the next plan? After Mom's successful operation... where will we go?"

Aira smiled faintly to herself, tipping her head back. "I haven't thought of the details yet," she murmured to the wind. "But you know I like countryside places. Somewhere with endless greenery, small cute houses, clean roads... barely any people. Just peace."

"It sounds like a fairy tale," her Brain agreed, painting the picture. "A fresh start. Just you and Mom."

"Yes. It looks perfect."

But then, the swing slowed. The smile faded from her lips as a darker, heavier thought clawed its way up from her chest.

"But what about him?" her Heart whispered traitorously.

Aira went silent. She stopped swinging, her feet dragging on the grass to brake. She looked down at her lap, at her bandaged hand.

"What about him?" her Brain fired back defensively.

"Will you be able to forget this month?" her Heart asked, its voice soft and aching.

"These moments you had with him? Will you forget the way he touched you? That cold, terrifying, yet intoxicating intimacy you've never felt before? The scars he gave you... they aren't just on your skin, Aira."

Aira shivered, wrapping her arms around herself as phantom sensations brushed against her skin—his breath, his rough hands, his obsessive gaze.

"These things are not easy to forget, are they?" her Heart taunted.

"Yes, I know," Aira whispered aloud, her voice trembling. She shook her head, trying to dislodge the image of Karan's dark eyes. "But I have to. I will. He did this to me. I am not meant for his cruel and dark world."

She convinced herself that his world was just 'cruel.' She thought his darkness was just bad moods and a possessive nature.

Aira was wrong.

While she sat there, dreaming of green fields and silence...Karan was washing Ayden's blood off his hands, ensuring that silence was the only thing his victim would ever know.

🥀🥀🥀

Author :-

Well, well the chapter was kinda rough isn't it ? But it had to be that way. Cause after all he's Karan.😉