He was her saviour,
She was his strength.
♡ Mira Rathore ♡
After facing twenty-five years of abuse from her own family, Mira got bitter toward emotional ties. To her, it was an illusion.
Her entire life was trapped in darkness and her pasts still h...
A/N: This chapter is going to be quite lengthy so it's a request from the author to stick till the last.
🪞MIRA🪞
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Our bedroom was filled with silence and the distant melody of the piano resonated softly from the pavilion. I sat before the mirror, the edge of the bed supporting me as Sid carefully massaged my scalp with the soothing scent of lavender oil.
I watched closely as he mended my wounds. His fingertips brushed slowly, almost cautiously, across my scalp. He was careful not to apply too much pressure, knowing the scratches left by that monster. I could see the concern in his eyes as well as anger towards the person who had dug his nails into my scalp.
I closed my eyes and thought about what had happened in the last twenty-four hours and immediately, a smug grin curved on my lips. Since we exposed Vikram Mehra's true identity to the media, the fashion industry has been shocked. Devaki has started losing clients and its reputation is tanking. But it wasn't just within the industry that has been impacted. The public controversy against Vikram Mehra's crimes rippled throughout social media channels and the people have also started creating campaigns demanding justice. From furious online petitions to rallying cries on the streets, the call for Vikram's annihilation has just become stronger. And according to what our agents have said, Vikram Mehra has gone underground, and has been trying to feed money to the media to take down these allegations but to his defeat nothing has worked since we have already threatened the media and police officers by taking advantage of our royal authority. This time, he cannot escape his fate. No matter how much he tries to run, no matter how many games he would dare to play, his defeat is inevitable.
Slowly, I peeled my eyelids apart, meeting the gaze of my husband in the mirror. His movements were quiet, but the gap between us was loud, oppressive. Ever since I stepped back into our home from Vikram Mehra's office, Sid has not uttered a single word about that incident. In fact, he has barely even spoken to me but still he hasn't left me alone for a single moment in the past day. It's like he's afraid to let me out of his sight, especially when we talk about that monster and his intentions towards me. Sid hadn't even let go of my hand, as if he thinks I'll disappear if he did. And he hasn't slept at all, just staring at me with those whiskey eyes, as if he's afraid I'll slip away if he blinks. It was like he was holding on to me for his dear life.
But beneath Siddharth's rage and thirst for revenge against Vikram, I could sense the torment eating Siddharth from within, especially at the mere thought of something happening to me. He might never voice these fears, but they echo in the abyss of his eyes, I could see them inscribed in every line of his face, in every touch of his hand. Even though Siddharth's silence was ripping me apart, his actions were way too loud, pumping my heart to the point where it seemed like it was going to burst and I couldn't help but fall for this man all over again.
My cheeks creased as I tucked my lips up into a small grin.
I peeked at Siddharth in the mirror and tried to study his face. His jaw looked like it could crush anything, and his forehead was all wrinkled, like he had a million thoughts but couldn't say any of them. And his eyes? Oh, his eyes! They were dying. They seemed like they were begging to let out all the tears and screams he'd been holding in.
