The front door creaked open, and Sara glanced up from where she sat. Shubman walked in, his steps uneven, his shirt wrinkled, and the faint scent of alcohol surrounding him. It wasn't new—he often came home like this, lost in his thoughts, his world too heavy for him to carry.

He stumbled into the bedroom without a word, collapsing onto the bed. His hand brushed against his face, and his eyes were half-shut, dazed. Sara hesitated, torn between her instinct to walk away and the worry clawing at her chest. Slowly, she took a step closer.

Shubman stirred slightly, his vision blurred, and as his eyes met hers, a faint smile tugged at his lips. "Sara..." Shubman grabbed her waist and pulled her over him !

Sara gasped, her palms pressing against his chest to keep herself steady.
Her heart raced as she caught his scent—a mix of whiskey and the warm familiarity that was uniquely him. His hand slid to her waist, and he pressed his face against her hair, inhaling deeply. His breath hitched. "Heaven," he whispered, his voice so soft that she wasn't sure if he meant for her to hear.

"Yeh aap kya kar rahe hain?" she asked, her voice shaking with a mix of fear and confusion.

But he only tightened his hold, his strength overwhelming hers.

He opened his eyes then, the haziness replaced by something darker!His hand moved to her lips, his rough thumb pressing and creasing gently . "Tumhe pata hai, main kaun hoon?" he asked, his voice deep and hoarse.

She froze, her breath caught in her throat.

"Main maut hoon sara" he said, his tone bitter, as if the words burned him. "Meri duniya.....meri duniya me sabkuch andhera hain,There's no place for love here,No place for light. Everything I touch... it's destroyed." His eyes flickered with pain!

Sara's eyes brimmed with tears as she listened, her heart breaking for him.

He looked away then, his voice growing softer. "Par Tum kya ho, Sara? Kyun main chahke bhi khudko tumse dur nahi kar paraha?" His grip on her waist tightened as his voice cracked. "Kyun mujhe tumhari aadat ho gayi hai? Kyun main deewana ho raha hoon tumhara?"

Tears slid down Sara's cheeks,Shubman's gaze softened for a moment as he stared at her tear-streaked face. He opened his mouth to speak, his lips trembling. "Sara I love......." he began, but his words faded as sleep overtook him. His head fell back against the pillow, and his hand on her waist slackened just slightly.

For a moment, Sara stayed there, her body trembling. Her heart ached with a thousand emotions she couldn't name. Carefully, she freed herself from his grip and knelt beside the bed.

She took off his shoes and socks,she unbuttoned his shirt, her fingers brushing against his warm skin,unbuckling his belt, leaving his pants on ,she pulled a blanket over him, tucking it around his shoulders.

As she sat beside him,her tears fell freely, one landing on his cheek. Shubman stirred slightly at the touch, his lips moving as if to speak, but no words came.

Sara gazed at him, this man who called himself death yet held so much pain, so much longing. Her chest ached as she whispered, her voice breaking, "Aap maut nahi hain, Shubman. Aap meri zindagi hain."

Flashback

Shubman had bought Sara for 77 crores. She didn't fully understand who he was or why he had done it. All she knew was that she was now at his mercy.

When they arrived at his massive mansion, Sara was stunned. The entire place was lit up and decorated like a bride, shining in all its glory. She had never seen anything so grand before.

Shubman stepped inside and every servant they passed bowed their heads in respect. Sara followed him silently, her mind filled with confusion and fear.

He turned to one of the servants and ordered, "Take her to a room, give her clothes, and make sure she eats."

Sara quietly followed the servant to a room. When the food was brought in, she couldn't hold back her gratitude. She whispered a prayer, thanking God for the meal. It had been two long days since she had eaten anything. Her hands trembled as she ate, savoring every bite. Afterward, she lay down on the soft bed, and for the first time in days, she felt safe enough to close her eyes. Sleep came to her like a warm embrace.

Meanwhile, in Shubman's room, a servant arrived with his meal.

"Did the girl eat?" Shubman asked, his voice calm but commanding.

"Yes, boss," the servant replied, bowing his head.

Shubman gave a slight nod, dismissing him.

The servant hesitated for a moment before adding nervously, "But, boss... your mother is calling you. In few days it's your wedding—"

Before he could finish, Shubman's expression darkened. His voice turned ice-cold as he snapped, "I told you to leave. Get out now, or tomorrow, you'll be the one in a coffin."

The servant froze in fear, then quickly turned and left without another word.

The next morning, Shubman stepped into her room. His eyes immediately found her by the window, bathed in soft sunlight. The rays danced on her skin, making her seem almost ethereal. Her long hair flowed gently down her back, and she looked lost in thought, unaware of his presence.

For a moment, he just stood there, captivated. She wasn't like anyone he'd ever seen—fragile yet strong, simple yet beautiful. She stirred something in him he couldn't quite name.

As he moved closer, the sound of his footsteps broke the silence. Sara turned quickly, startled,

She gasped softly.

"Shh," Shubman said, his voice unusually gentle. "Relax, it's just me."

Her heartbeat quickened as she whispered, "Aap... aap yaha?"

He smirked faintly, his usual coldness slipping for just a second. "Why? This is my house. Can't I come here?"

Sara looked down, embarrassed"I... I'm sorry," she said, her voice barely audible.

Shubman tilted his head, his gaze softening as he studied her. "What's your name?" he asked.

She hesitated, then answered in a shaky voice, "Sa... Sara."

He repeated her name slowly, like it was a word he wanted to hold onto. "Sara," he murmured, his tone almost tender. "Do you know what it means?"

She glanced up at him, her innocence catching him off guard. "Nai" she said, shaking her head slightly.

Shubman allowed a small, rare smile to appear—one he didn't even know he had in him. "Sara, in Hebrew, means Princess," he said softly, his voice warm.

She blinked, her lips parting slightly in surprise. No one had ever spoken to her like that.

For the first time in years, Shubman felt a strange pull in his chest. She wasn't like the world he knew—cold, cruel, and calculating. She was something pure, something untouched by the darkness he carried.

Sara looked at him then, her shy smile tugging at his heart in ways he didn't want to admit.

Sara lowered her gaze and spoke softly, her voice laced with gratitude, "Thank you for saving me. I... I don't know how to repay your debt."

Shubman opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, his phone buzzed in his pocket. The sharp sound broke the fragile moment between them. He glanced at the screen, his expression hardening again, and without a word, he turned and left the room, his long strides echoing in the quiet.

Sara's eyes followed him until he disappeared through the door. Her heart raced, and she let out a shaky breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

She thought about him—his presence so commanding, yet his moments of gentleness felt like stolen glimpses of another side to him. The way his sharp jawline, intense eyes, and broad shoulders made him look so masculine and powerful.

And when he had come close—so close she could catch a faint hint of his cologne—something stirred in her. A flutter in her chest, a warmth spreading through her that she couldn't understand. Butterflies, she thought. Why am I feeling this way about him?

Wrapping her arms around herself, Sara turned back to the window, her mind lingering on the man who had saved her life yet remained such a mystery.

At night,

Shubman stepped out of the bathroom, droplets of water still clinging to his skin, his lower body draped into a towel!

A woman stood there—a mistress whose name he didn't know, nor cared to remember. She was one of the many he had fucked on fleeting nights, their faces blurring together in his memory. She gave him a slutty smile!

Slowly, she undid the robe she wore, letting it slip to the floor, revealing herself in a barely-there set of lingerie. She moved toward him,her fingers brushing against his damp skin.

Shubman stood still, his face void of any emotion.

She pressed herself against him, her lips trailing kisses along his neck and jawline. Shubman closed his eyes instinctively, but instead of succumbing to the moment, an image flashed in his mind—Sara.

Her innocent eyes, her  smile, the way she had looked at him with gratitude and trust. It was so pure, so unlike the darkness he was used to.

His eyes snapped open, and without thinking, he pushed the woman away with enough force to make her stumble back.

"Get out," he roared, his voice thunderous. "Get out, you whore!"

The woman chuckled, unfazed by his anger. "Yes, I am your whore," she said mockingly, stepping closer again. "Let me satisfy you tonight, my master."

But Shubman couldn't even look at her now. Every part of him rejected her touch, rejected the emptiness of it all. His mind was consumed with Sara, and being with anyone else felt wrong in a way it never had before.

In a flash, he grabbed the woman's wrists, twisting her arms behind her back. His grip was iron, his eyes blazing with fury. "Didn't I tell you to leave?" he hissed, his voice deadly. "If you don't get out now, I'll shoot you without a second thought."

The woman's smirk vanished, replaced by fear. She yanked her hands free and stumbled out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Shubman collapsed onto the bed, burying his face in his hands. His thoughts swirled, chaotic and unrelenting. Why? he thought bitterly. Why am I acting like this? Why does she matter so much?

He clenched his fists, frustration rising within him. Sara's face refused to leave his mind!

"Who is she? And why does she have this power over me?"

To be continued—

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Also you guys  can suggest me plots for upcoming chapters