Billionaire hubby's dark desires

Next ....

The Next Morning...

Delhi, AR Haveli.

The early morning sun filtered gently through the sheer curtains of the grand haveli. Golden light danced across polished marble floors and antique tapestries, breathing life into the silent grandeur of the AR residence. Inside the personal gym, the low hum of machines and the faint rhythm of weights echoed in the air.

Aahir was focused, his strong arms flexing as he pushed through the last of his reps. Clad in a sleeveless vest and track pants, sweat trickled down his temples, tracing the sharp lines of his face. The early hour was his haven—the only time he could retreat into his own mind, away from the expectations and the name his family carried.

And then, it came.

A voice. Soft. Sweet. Familiar.

"Bhai, do you remember your promise? You said you'd take me out this Sunday!"

The weights hit the floor with a quiet thud.

He turned slowly, a familiar warmth already blooming in his chest.

There she was.

Shivi.

His little sister.

Wrapped in a cute night suit adorned with pastel prints and sleepy clouds, her hair slightly tousled, eyes gleaming like morning stars. She looked more like a dream than a person—so innocent, so untouched by the shadows that Aahir himself wrestled with daily.

The corner of his lips lifted into a genuine smile, a rare softness filling his usually impassive face. He walked over to her, leaned down, and gently pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Yes, Princess," he said, his voice velvet-smooth yet strong. "I remember. So, get ready after breakfast—we're heading to the mall today. You can do whatever you want there. No rules."

Her face lit up like Diwali lamps.

"Really, Bhai? Anything I want? Like, anything anything?"

Aahir chuckled. Her joy was contagious, her wonder unfiltered.

"Yes, today is all yours. No one will stop my Princess from enjoying herself. But..." he paused, now crouching to her eye level, his tone slightly serious. "You have to promise me one thing—that you'll be careful, and won't hurt yourself while having fun. Deal?"

She blinked up at him, mockingly squinting her eyes like she was considering some huge contract. Then, slowly, she slid her tiny palm into his much larger one.

"Yes, Bhai. Your Princess promises not to get hurt. I'll take care of myself, I promise!"

Before he could respond, she stretched on her toes and placed a light kiss on his cheek.

"You're the best Bhai ever!" she giggled.

Her bare feet pattered on the cold floor as she turned and dashed off, her voice trailing behind her like wind chimes in a breeze.

"I'm going to get ready now! You better hurry up too and come downstairs fast!"

Aahir stood there for a moment, frozen—not from surprise, but from the overwhelming affection that had momentarily quieted the storm inside him.

In a life surrounded by secrets, enemies, power games, and ruthless decisions, Shivi was the only part of his world that was pure. She was his anchor. His only light.

After a few silent moments, he turned back to his bench, finished his final sets, and walked back toward his room, already mentally planning her perfect day.

---

Upstairs – Aahir's Bedroom

Aahir's room was unlike anything else in the haveli. Designed with intention and opulence, it was a palace within a palace.

At the center stood a grand, round bed with rich velvet sheets in midnight black and royal gold. The walls were adorned with art—some pieces centuries old, others handpicked from obscure auctions. There were ancient artifacts, rare books, and a glass case containing a single silver pocket watch—his grandfather's.

Every corner of the room echoed history and power... and secrets.

Steam curled around him as he stepped out of the shower, the heat easing the tension from his back. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he walked into his closet—a space larger than most bedrooms, where tailored suits lined the walls like silent soldiers.

He chose a classic: a black three-piece suit, sharp as his gaze. The jacket hugged his broad shoulders, the trousers tapering perfectly around his legs. He slicked his hair back, fastened a sleek black watch, and gave himself a final once-over in the mirror.

Impeccable.

Yet the moment he locked eyes with his reflection, he paused.

Behind that polished image was something else—an edge, a shadow, a truth buried deep beneath the perfection.

But there was no time for thoughts now. He had a promise to keep.

---

Dining Hall – AR Haveli

Downstairs, the aroma of freshly made parathas, toast, and brewed coffee filled the air. The long, ornate dining table was set for the entire family, and everyone had already taken their seats.

When Aahir entered, conversations halted. Heads dipped slightly in acknowledgment.

He was more than just the eldest son. He was the head of the family's vast empire, the quiet protector, the man with eyes everywhere and emotions locked away behind a granite wall.

He took his seat at the head of the table.

Despite the sumptuous spread of food, a thick silence hung over the breakfast like fog. It wasn't uncomfortable—it was a rule.

No one spoke while eating.

It was one of Aahir's many quiet disciplines, and over the years, even the youngest had learned to respect it.

Plates clinked softly, spoons stirred gently, and for a while, all that could be heard was the faint sound of cutlery on china.

Then... it buzzed.

Aahir's phone, placed neatly beside his plate, vibrated once. The name flashing on the screen pulled the light from his eyes.

Something shifted.

He picked it up with slow deliberation, glanced around the table, then pressed it to his ear.

"Yes?" His voice was low, clipped.

Whatever he was hearing on the other end, it wasn't good.

His back straightened.

His fingers curled tightly around the glass in his other hand.

His jaw locked.

Aahir said nothing—he didn't need to. His face had turned from calm to thunderstorm within seconds.

Then—

CRACK.

The glass in his hand shattered.

Shards dug into his palm, and red began to seep out instantly, vivid and alarming against the pristine white tablecloth.

A collective gasp broke the silence.

Shivi's mother dropped her spoon.

His father's brows furrowed in alarm.

Aahir's grandfather gave a subtle nod to his son, who understood the gesture: Ask him.

Before he could speak, Aahir stood.

The chair scraped back roughly across the marble floor.

Blood now dripped freely from his hand, yet he didn't flinch. The glass pieces remained embedded in his skin, as if pain didn't register with him. Or perhaps, something else was hurting far worse.

His eyes—now dark and unreadable—swept across the room once before he turned on his heel and walked out, leaving behind a family frozen in confusion... and fear.

---

To Be Continued...

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🌟 What's next for Shivi and Aahir?

Will Shivi's day unfold as joyfully as planned?

Or will this mysterious phone call mark the beginning of something darker?

Who was on the other end?

And what news was so devastating that it made a man like Aahir—calm, composed, and cold—lose control?

There are secrets buried deep within the walls of AR Haveli.

And soon... they'll begin to surface.

Stay tuned for the next intense chapter of

💥 "Billionaire CEO Hubby's Dark Desires" 💥

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Ram Ram, friends!