Billionaire hubby's dark desires

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Hoshiarpur, Punjab

Sayara sat cross-legged on her bed, the glow of her laptop illuminating her anxious face. The fan overhead spun lazily, but the warmth in the room did nothing to calm the storm in her heart. Her fingers fidgeted over the bedsheet, her eyes fixed on the screen—refreshing her inbox again and again.

"What if I'm not good enough?" she whispered to herself.

"What if they didn't like my portfolio?"

Her thoughts were racing, swirling in a chaotic loop of doubt and hope. The opportunity at Rathore Enterprises meant everything to her—it wasn't just a job; it was a stepping stone to the life she had dreamed of since her school days.

Suddenly, a soft "ding" broke her trance. Her heart skipped a beat. A new email had just arrived.

She froze. For a moment, she couldn't even breathe. Slowly, with trembling hands, she moved the cursor to open the message. The subject line read:

"Congratulations! Interview Invitation – Rathore Enterprises"

Her vision blurred. The room swam as tears filled her eyes. She blinked them away and re-read the mail, again and again, just to be sure. Her lips quivered into a disbelieving smile.

She had been selected for the interview. Next week. In Delhi.

Sayara clutched the laptop to her chest, letting out a soft sob. She couldn't believe it. After so many rejections, after so many nights spent doubting herself—this was the first sign that maybe, just maybe, her hard work was finally paying off.

She whispered, "Thank you, God," under her breath and closed her eyes in silent gratitude.

---

Delhi – 1:00 AM

AR Villa

Far away, in the heart of Delhi's silent wilderness, stood AR Villa—a sprawling estate hidden deep within a forest, far from the prying eyes of the world.

By day, it looked majestic, almost regal, with its Roman pillars, antique archways, and towering iron gates. But at night, it transformed into something else entirely.

A ghost of its daytime beauty. A predator cloaked in shadows.

Its charcoal-black walls, marbled grey tiles, and dim antique chandeliers gave it the aura of a gothic castle. Shadows lurked in every corner. Wind rustled through the trees like whispers of the dead, and the occasional howl of a jackal only added to its haunting soundtrack.

Most wouldn't dare to go near it—let alone inside.

And deep beneath the mansion, in the basement, something horrific was unfolding.

The room was dimly lit, cold, and reeked of fear. Heavy iron chains clinked against stone as a man cried out in pain. His voice echoed, each scream slicing through the silence like a razor blade.

The man's eyes were swollen, lips split, blood trickling down his chin. His wrists were bruised raw from the cuffs.

And across from him, calm and composed, sat Aahir—or rather, the man the world only knew as AR.

One leg crossed over the other, a cigar resting between his fingers, AR exhaled a slow, curling stream of smoke. His face was hidden beneath a sculpted silicon mask, covered by a black designer mask.

He wore a tailored suit—flawless, elegant, the kind that would fit at a billionaire's gala—but there was something chilling about the way he carried it. As if the man beneath the fabric wasn't human at all.

The only thing more unsettling than his appearance was the silence. AR hadn't spoken a word. Not one.

The man chained to the chair continued to cry, "Please… please forgive me… I didn't mean to… it was a mistake—I didn't know what I was doing…"

His voice cracked, breaking into a dry sob. Blood dripped onto the floor beneath him, pooling near his feet.

AR leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his gloved hands clasped together.

"You didn't know what you were doing?" he finally said, his voice smooth—almost casual—but with a razor-sharp edge. "That's funny. Because to me… it looked like you knew exactly what you were doing when you sent my confidential logistics to Gautam Sisodia."

The man whimpered. "He forced me… he said he'd kill my family—"

"We all have families," AR interrupted. "Some of us protect them. Some of us trade them for money."

Then, without emotion, he stood and walked to the wall where a sleek black cabinet sat. Opening it slowly, he pulled out a small silver case. Inside was a steel branding rod—engraved with the symbol of AR's empire: a hawk with its talons soaked in blood.

The man's eyes widened in terror. He began thrashing, screaming again. "No—no, please! I'll disappear—I'll leave the city—I'll never—"

But AR didn't flinch. "I believe you," he said coolly, as he handed the rod to one of his men. "You will disappear. Just not the way you think."

Moments later, a sharp hiss filled the air—the rod now glowing red-hot.

The screams that followed were so agonizing, so primal, they could've woken the dead.

But AR… he simply turned away. He took one last drag of his cigar, then crushed it beneath his boot.

"Send the body to GS," he said without looking back. "Let him know I return every gift. Burnt, broken, or dead."

And with that, he walked out of the basement, his footsteps slow, steady, echoing behind him.

The silence he left behind was almost louder than the screams had been.

His men stood still, as though the air itself had frozen. Finally, someone exhaled.

"He's heartless," whispered one of them. "Not a man. A machine. No mercy."

Another replied, "He doesn't need mercy. That's why we follow him."

---

Hoshiarpur – The Same Night

Sayara's Home

Back in the warm, modest home of Sayara Sharma, the night couldn't have been more different.

Sayara was still buzzing with excitement. After reading the mail ten more times and checking the calendar for the interview date, she jumped off the bed, shouting, "Mummaaa!"

Her voice echoed through the hallway, and soon, her mother and younger brother came rushing in. The moment they stepped inside, they saw her spinning around, half-dancing, her dupatta flying through the air.

Her brother raised an eyebrow. "Oye moti! Why are you bouncing like this? Planning to break the bed?"

Sayara shot him a glare. "Shut up, you beanpole," she said with a grin and then turned to her mother. "Mumma, I got the email! Rathore Enterprises selected me! I'm going to Delhi for the final round!"

Her mother gasped, hands flying to her face. "Oh my God! Are you serious, beta?"

Sayara nodded, eyes welling up again. "Yes! The email just came. I can't believe it… I actually made it this far."

Her mother hugged her tightly. "You deserved it, Sayara. You've worked so hard. My brave girl."

Even her brother looked proud. He pulled her into a quick hug and said, "Don't forget us after you become a big-shot CEO, okay?"

They laughed together, unaware of the storm waiting for Sayara in Delhi.

---

Meanwhile… in a Hidden Chamber within AR Villa

In a room not listed on any blueprint, guarded behind a retinal scanner, AR stood before a massive digital map.

Red lines marked territory. Blinking dots indicated surveillance targets. One of them had just appeared… a new employee registered for screening at Rathore Enterprises.

The name glowed faintly:

Sayara Sharma – Hoshiarpur

AR tapped his gloved finger on the name. A file opened. Background, education, family. Clean.

"Interesting," he murmured, almost to himself.

He turned to his most trusted aide, a man in a grey coat standing silently near the door. "Assign someone to keep an eye on her when she reaches Delhi."

"Shall we intercept her?" the aide asked.

AR's lips twitched beneath the mask. "Not yet. Let's see who comes looking for her first."

The aide nodded and left, leaving AR alone in the glow of the red digital map.

Outside, thunder rolled in the distance. The forest trembled.

To Be Continued ▶️▶️