Anayra: His Obsession

The night was drenched in an eerie stillness, broken only by the rhythmic patter of rain against the glass windows. A storm raged outside, but inside the grand mansion, another storm was brewing—one far more dangerous. Anayra stood in the dimly lit corridor, her hands trembling as she clutched the silk of her dress. The air was thick with tension, suffocating her as she struggled to steady her breath. She knew she shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t have come. But it was too late now. A deep voice sliced through the silence. “You ran from me once, Anayra. Did you really think I would let you do it again?” Her heart stopped. Slowly, she turned. He was standing in the shadows, tall, powerful, dangerous. His piercing gaze locked onto hers, unreadable yet burning with an intensity that made her shiver. Aarav. Her brother’s best friend. Her nightmare. Her obsession. The man who had once promised to stay away from her. The man who had just forced her into a marriage neither of them had wanted… or so she thought. But the smirk on his lips told her otherwise. “You belong to me now,” he murmured, stepping closer, his presence consuming the space between them. Anayra’s breath hitched as his fingers traced a path along her jaw, tilting her face up to his. “Whether you like it or not… you were always meant to be mine.” A single tear slipped down her cheek. Because deep down, she knew—this was no love story. This was an obsession.