"I know your secrets."

"But you don't know the deadliest one"

"No, I don't."

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I opened my eyes to meet another set of brown eyes.

Dark whiskey-colored eyes.

I looked around, a breath of relief leaving me when I realized I was in Agnihotri Mansion, in Yuvaan's room. The familiar walls giving me a sense of comfort.

But what the fuck was Rehaan Agnihotri doing here?

I clenched and unclenched my fists, quickly masking the shock.

He was sitting on the sofa, and I was in my bed, but there was enough distance between us-more than enough.

Then why was I so flustered?

I realized he wasn't just in the room. He was looking at me. Really looking at me.

With those dark eyes, trying to dissect me.

What did I do? I tried to break down every single action of mine from memory.

There's no way I slipped up.

I acted just like one would expect from an innocent person.

I even screamed for help like a fucking damsel in distress, dammit. There's no way-

Then I saw his face. It was hardly noticeable, but he smirked, like he knew what I was thinking.

"Interesting," he said. It was almost a whisper, but I just knew he wanted me to hear that.

Stop, I told myself. He's playing with your mind, Ruhi.

I maintained my poker face.

"Where's Yuvaan?" I asked-the only question that mattered.

Because if I stayed longer with Rehaan alone, I had a feeling he'd see that there were cracks in my mask.

Not what was beneath it, yet. Just the cracks.

"Apparently, my brother is doing his husband duty, talking to your doctor about your medications."

Oh.

"What are you doing here?" I asked as I tried sitting up, my back against the headboard, making sure he heard the slight bitterness in my tone.

I ignored the headache. I'd been through worse.

"Hmm, what am I doing here?" he echoed back ever so slightly, moving his head side to side like a predator.

But he also knew I was no prey.

He knows I figured it out-what he did today. Didn't he?

I smirked internally, confirming one of my suspicions.

"So, did it answer your suspicions?" I asked, making sure I looked overconfident.

Overconfidently innocent.

He just raised an eyebrow, not answering anything.

Well, if this is how you want to play me, I'll happily walk into the trap.

But it isn't a trap if one knows it, now is it?

"The kidnappers-what did you promise them? Money, power?" I asked, fisting my hand, which he didn't fail to notice. Good.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, amused. Of course, he was enjoying it. He knew I knew that he knew.

That he orchestrated all of this.

The kidnapping down to the timing of those gun shots.

He was the boss.

"You know what I'm talking about," I gritted back.

My head ached; every single part of my body was aching.

And this person sitting right in front of me was the reason.

"Money," he said nonchalantly, "the kidnappers-I promised them money. They both had their mother in the hospital. They needed money to save her. I gave them an exchange. Humans are so simple."

The room paused momentarily as I let this information sink in.

He used their weaknesses so easily.

Ruthless. He was ruthless.

And why was he telling me this in so much detail?

Realization dawned on me.

Unless he wanted me to know this.

"Does Yuvaan know?" I asked, my voice steady but my mind racing.

"Does he?" He tilted his head slightly, and for some reason, it hurt to hear him say that.

He was planting a doubt.

"Why?" I asked, ensuring there were fake tears in my eyes, though I wondered if part of them were real.

"Why?" He repeated. "Because you are an Agnihotri now," he stated, as if that was enough of an explanation.

"It's an ocean full of sharks. I just gave you a glimpse beneath the surface. I was simply assessing how you'd react to it." His reply was cold, his eyes assessing my reaction with a calculating gaze.

"So, did I react well?" I mocked, but it was deliberate.

"No, not well," he said slowly, standing up from the sofa. "You reacted precisely how I expected," he added in his usual detached tone.

I made sure my face morphed into a look of surprise and questioning, making certain he saw it.

He left the next second without a backward glance.

What are you, Rehaan Agnihotri?

What twisted mind was at work here? His attitude, his words-they were all a puzzle.

I wasn't on his list of suspicions anymore; I just knew that.

He thinks he's figured me out-a naive girl perceptive enough to see the threat but not perceptive enough to know the true reasons.

Oh, I know exactly what his true reasons were. He wanted to scare me. Alert me. Make me cautious of him.

He was warning me. No, he hasn't figured out my facade. It was just who he was.

It was his usual self at work.

Someone who's paranoid and overly protective of his secrets.

I'll have to be careful around him.

But the same goes the other way around. A coy smile graced my lips. Oh, he's something. He made me doubt my facade for a second.

He talked about introducing me to the sharks beneath the surface. What he didn't know was I have been trained all my life to survive amidst these sharks.

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I was trying to reach the jug of water when Yuvaan entered, looking distraught. But as soon as he saw me attempting to grab the glass, he immediately rushed to help.

"Ruhi! You shouldn't be moving," he said, supporting my back gently and placing a pillow behind me, making sure I sat comfortably. "The doctor said you need proper rest." He passed me the glass of water.

"Yuvaan, I'm not thatttt injured," I told him, amused by his dramatic antics.

"Thattt, matlab?" he scolded, his tone serious. "You had a concussion and cuts on both your hands," he stated, glancing at my bandages.

I looked at him for a second, into his light brown eyes, which were genuinely concerned.

I didn't know when I giggled. It just happened, a natural response to the situation. I was laughing because... well, no one had ever worried about me over a few measly cuts and a concussion.

"What's so funny?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, looking offended. It only made me smile more, but something in his eyes definitely softened.

"Nothing," I said, still smiling at him, as he shook his head.

"Here, take these medicines," he instructed, handing me the pills as he poured another glass of water. I kept looking at him as he took care of me.

Gently. Calmly. Delicately.

He made sure I was comfortable. All night, he sat at his desk, working while I tried to sleep. Maybe not peacefully-I don't think I'll ever sleep peacefully in this lifetime. It just wasn't written for me. But there was a different kind of peace in knowing someone was there for me. He was there for me.

He made me feel fragile-not like a ticking bomb, but like a flower, a blooming, pretty flower. And sometimes, we all need that kind of care. The kind one gives to a flower: gentle, calm, serene.

So I closed my eyes, even when I felt him adjust my blanket. Even when he tucked the strands of hair from my face, his hand was fleeting, like a ghost. Even when I felt his warm presence as he looked at me.

Somewhere in the night, he had fallen asleep at his desk.

I got up, the headache was still very prominent because I never took the painkillers. I knew they were sedatives, and I couldn't afford to lose another night, injured or not.

I looked at Yuvaan, deep asleep at his work table, his glasses still on. I gently took them off, careful not to wake him.

The moonlight fell on his innocent face.

Just what are you, Yuvaan Agnihotri?

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It didn't take me long to reach the base of the stairs leading to the third floor. No one was here.

Luck? I hoped not. Luck and I were never on the same terms. I'd rather encounter someone now than be stuck in an impossible situation later.

I took my first step, waiting for someone to magically appear. I counted to ten. No one did. Taking a deep breath, I took another step, my mind alert to every single sound. The information I had about Agnihotri Mansion ended here. I didn't even have an inkling of what lay on the third floor, except for one thing my father told me: I would find every proof and evidence I needed on the third floor. That was enough to risk it all.

I reached the third floor, almost expecting someone to be there, ready to catch me off guard. But all that greeted me was silence-the kind that sends goosebumps crawling over your skin, eerie and oppressive.

The first thing I noticed was the smell. It was sweet, yet something about it felt off. The only source of light was the glow of a lamp in the farthest corner. Beyond that, darkness. I walked silently, the shadows swallowing each step. I could barely see anything in the dimness. My breaths slowed as I inched closer. The lamp's glow was red. No windows, not a single one, except a small opening in the ceiling. Two escape routes, one actually, excluding the one I came from. It felt more like a prison-easy to enter but just as hard to escape once caught.

With a small, shaky breath, I took cautious, measured steps, my eyes scanning for doors. The first one I found was locked. So was the second. My breathing quickened as I moved forward. Then, in the middle of the hallway, there was a door. It wasn't locked.

Finally. Something.

With my gloved hands-a habit from the past-I pushed the door open slowly. The door didn't creak, unexpectedly silent, suggesting it was used frequently. So much for this being a forbidden floor.

But the sight that greeted me was not what I expected.

Shelves upon shelves of hardcover books.

My breaths were shallow as I took my first step inside, my hands trembling slightly.

With a deep breath, I walked toward the shelves, my gloved fingers skimming over the covers. On closer inspection, I realized not a single one had a title. They were all bound in red hardcovers.

My hand stopped on one, my gaze following the line of books. Each one on the same row was of equal width, gradually getting thicker and thicker as the shelves climbed higher. I glanced around, looking for any kind of sensor, expecting an alarm the moment I pulled one out. But there was nothing.

I reached for the book with my shaky hands and pulled it from the row.

But before I could open the book, I frowned, my head tilting slightly as I noticed my shaking hands. My hands never shook. Never.

Unless-

My eyes widened as the realization slowly sank in.

FUCK.

It was the air. Damn it. Something was in the air on the third floor. It was different. Then the dots connected in my mind-it was the smell. Damn It, DAMN IT.

A precautionary measure. Even if someone managed to get onto the third floor, they wouldn't be able to stay long. They'd pass out and get caught. After all, how could anyone trespass here without breathing even once? I didn't know whether to appreciate the intelligence or curse it.

I pinched my hand. It was starting to go numb. Worst case, it was poisonous. Best case, sedatives. Thankfully, my body had some tolerance for both.

And for the first time today, I actually panicked. Really panicked.

Calm, Ruhi. Calm.

What's 1,558 times 5,768?

8,986,544, I mind-calculated quickly, checking if my brain was still unaffected. It seemed to be, for now.

A door opened and closed, the sound piercing through the silence, followed by the scrape of a chair. I turned towards the sound, only to find a wall. But there was a door on that wall, slightly ajar. These rooms were connected-at least these two were.

I immediately placed the book back exactly as it was, not a single degree out of place, and hid behind a nearby chair. There was a small corner there, shrouded in darkness. I didn't think anyone would notice me unless they really looked.

My attention zeroed in on the figure that entered through the connected door.

Not in a thousand years would I mistake those broad shoulders.

Rehaan Agnihotri.

My eyes narrowed, more focused than ever. I pinched my hand and bit my tongue, fighting the numbness. Not yet. Just a few more minutes.

But the truth was, I was panicking. I didn't know how long he was going to stay here. I was stuck.

Rehaan was on the phone as he walked in, his body at ease. He reached up and picked a book, just two rows above the one I had touched minutes ago. His voice reverberated through the room, deep and calm, but even the man on the other end was audible if I strained my ears enough.

"The forensic reports are out. Every single detail is the same-same killing method, same timing, same message. I see a pattern, Rehaan. He's back again?" The man on the other end of the call spoke, his voice laced with tension.

Rehaan's deep voice reverberated in the room as he flicked through the pages of the book he had picked. "No. Despite the familiarity, it's different. It's a copycat, just trying to mimic a past legend."

He sounded so confident, so sure of himself. I frowned, not understanding what this conversation was about. It didn't sound like politics-not explicitly, at least.

"Still, we need to know who's pulling skeletons out of the closet. We can't let a serial killer roam free, especially not now. We have elections," the voice insisted.

Rehaan chuckled, a low, almost amused sound. "He's not loose. Albeit sloppy, he's doing a damn good job at staying hidden."

He closed the book with a snap, the sound echoing in the quiet room. My hands were growing more numb by the second, but I couldn't move. I was rooted to the spot, my breath shallow, my heart pounding.

"He's after the original master. You've seen his notes, the messages he's leaving. It's to lure out his master," Rehaan continued, a psychopathic smile creeping into his tone, as if he were enjoying this twisted game. "He's not after his targets, nor the ones chasing him. He's after the legend-the Phantom, the Crimson Phantom, after three damn years."

His voice lowered, filled with chilling excitement. "Damn, this just got a lot more interesting."

Rehaan reached up and took another book from the upper rows, effortlessly grabbing it due to his height. He flipped through the pages briefly before closing it and casually walked out of the room.

But the glint in his dark brown eyes while he talked about the Crimson Phantom remained vivid in my mind. His eyes shone with a dangerous, silent thrill. For the first time, I saw genuine excitement in them-a lurking, silent danger.

For a fleeting second, he had that look. The crazy, psychotic look only serial killers-or worse-could pull off.

I was numb, completely.

As I sneaked out of the damned room, my steps were slow and deliberate, not a single sound escaping my lips, my breath harsh in the silence. So it was a sedative, I realized. On my way down, I observed small air purifiers-no wonder. Rehaan Agnihotri could easily stay there, which meant the concentration was either low, or he had an antidote. Or, knowing him, he was just used to it.

But I didn't have the mental capacity today to think. My mind felt thick, fogged with everything I'd heard, everything I'd seen.

I walked into the bedroom. Yuvaan was still sleeping peacefully, the soft rise and fall of his chest a stark contrast to the chaos swirling in my head. Quietly, I opened the side drawer and retrieved the small vial. I swallowed the medicines I had skillfully stored away earlier, hoping they would do their job and force me into sleep.

Because if not for the sedatives, I knew nightmares would have awaited me. Nightmares filled with blood and whispers, the shadows of a name I never thought I'd hear again.

The Crimson Phantom.

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(Three years ago)

"Is this what you liked?" he asked, his voice low as I moved my hands over his chiseled chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath his shirt. His physique clearly showed how dedicated he was to the gym.

"It's all yours," he whispered, his breath warm against my ear as he gently tugged on my earlobe, sending a spark of heat down my spine. His hands tightened around my waist, pulling me closer as his lips brushed against my jaw. Goosebumps rose on my skin, and I sucked in a deep breath, trying to steady myself.

I clutched at his shirt, the fabric tight under my fingers. My eyes falling on a faint stain, something dark against the fabric-blood. I knew blood when I saw it, even in this dark.

His hand slid into my hair, tugging me gently, while the other stayed firm at my waist. I could feel his breath against my neck as he pressed into the crook, a shiver running through me. The warmth of his touch mixed with the sharp sensation as I let out a quiet moan.

"You smell divine, Mia," he said, his voice husky, before his mouth devoured my neck with an intensity that burned through every thought, sending my sanity right out of the window.

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A penny for your thoughts, I'd really appreciate your comments on this chapter. I spent hours on this one, probably one of the most twisted ones, but it's just a start!

Oh and does anyone have theories? 👀

Hehe, also Ruhi is an unreliable narrator.

Target: 65 Votes

Thank you for your votes and comments. And of course patience ;)

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