I looked up—
And forgot how to breathe.
For a moment, I didn’t move.
Didn’t think.
Didn’t even blink.
Because the man holding me… didn’t feel real.
Hazel green eyes.
Not soft. Not warm.
Sharp.
The kind that didn’t just look at you—they studied you. Like they could peel you apart layer by layer without even trying.
Dangerously attractive.
That was the first thought that crossed my mind.
The second—
Dangerous.Powerful.
A faint scar rested near his eyebrow, not ruining his face but… defining it. Giving him an edge that made him look less like someone you meet—
And more like someone you survive.
His skin held a warm tan, contrasting against the dark fabric of his shirt, his presence too composed, too controlled for someone who had just collided into me.
Or maybe…
I had collided into him.
His grip on my arm tightened slightly, steadying me completely before I could even think of falling.
Firm.
Certain.
Like letting go wasn’t an option he considered.
And that—
That unsettled me.
I became aware of how close we were.
Too close.
Close enough to feel the warmth of his hand through the thin fabric of my sleeve.
Close enough to notice the faint tension in his jaw.
Close enough to realize—
He wasn’t looking away.
Neither was I.
A second passed.
Maybe two.
Or maybe longer.
Time felt… irrelevant.
“You plan on staring all night?” he said, his voice low, smooth—
And annoyingly calm.
That snapped something in me.
I pulled myself together instantly, my expression hardening.
“You plan on holding me forever?” I shot back.
A flicker of something crossed his eyes.
Amusement?
Interest?
It was gone before I could name it.
But his grip didn’t loosen.
Not immediately.
Instead, his gaze shifted—slowly, deliberately—
From my face…
Downwards.
And that’s when I saw it.
My breath caught.
In his right hand—
My pendant.
The trishul.
For a second, everything else blurred again.
The noise.
The people.
Him.
All I could see was that small piece of silver resting between his fingers.
“How—” I stopped myself, my voice lowering instead, controlled but firm.
“That’s mine.”
My eyes snapped back to his.
Something changed in his expression.
Not surprise.
Not confusion.
Recognition.
As if he had already figured that out.
His thumb brushed lightly over the pendant, almost absentmindedly—
But the gesture felt… intentional.
Slow.
Careful.
My pulse quickened—and I hated that it did.
“You drop things this easily?” he asked.
There it was again.
That tone.
Not mocking.
Not soft.
Just… probing.
I straightened slightly in his hold, my chin lifting.
“I don’t lose things that matter,” I said quietly.
A beat passed.
His eyes held mine.
Searching.
Measuring.
And then—
Very slowly—
He extended his hand.
Offering it back.
But he didn’t let go immediately.
Our fingers brushed.
Just barely.
And yet—
It felt like something sharper than contact.
Like a spark that didn’t belong.
I closed my fingers around the pendant, but he still held onto the chain for a fraction longer than necessary.
Intentional.
Definitely intentional.
My gaze flickered to his hand… then back to his eyes.
“Let go.”
Two simple words.
But they didn’t come out soft.
They never did.
For a second—
He didn’t.
And in that second—
Something unspoken passed between us.
Challenge.
Resistance.
Something neither of us named.
Then—
He released it.
And just like that, the space between us felt… colder.
His other hand finally loosened around my arm.
But the absence of his grip didn’t feel like relief.
It felt like something had shifted.
Something I didn’t quite understand.
I took a small step back, putting distance where there should have been distance from the beginning.
But my fingers tightened unconsciously around the pendant.
Safe.
Back where it belonged.
Yet my eyes—
They didn’t leave his.
And his didn’t leave mine.
Not yet.
Not even now.
I took a step back.
Not too far.
Just enough to remind myself where I ended and he began.
But the distance didn’t do much.
Not when his presence still lingered… like something that refused to fade.
My fingers curled tighter around the pendant, the cool metal grounding me.
Still—
My eyes didn’t leave his.
Neither did his.
It was irritating.
The way he stood there, calm… unaffected… like none of this had unsettled him in the slightest.
Unlike me.
I tilted my chin slightly, holding his gaze, refusing to be the first one to look away.
“Who are you?” I asked.
Straight.
Sharp.
Demanding.
For a fraction of a second—
Silence.
Then the corner of his lips curved.
Not into a smile.
Something quieter.
More dangerous.
“Rudransh.”
A pause.
Like he knew that wouldn’t be enough.
“Rudransh Singhania.”
And just like that—
Everything inside me stilled.
My grip on the pendant tightened.
My eyes widened—just a fraction.
But enough.
Enough for him to notice.
Of course he noticed.
Rudransh Singhania.
The name didn’t just belong to a man.
It carried weight.
Power.
Influence.
The kind that didn’t need to be announced—
It was already known.
A man people didn’t challenge.
Didn’t cross.
Didn’t look at the way I was looking at him right now.
Dangerous wasn’t just a thought anymore.
It was a fact.
And suddenly—
Everything made sense.
The composure.
The control.
The way he looked at people like they were pieces on a board he already knew how to move.
My heartbeat picked up—but my face didn’t show it.
I wouldn’t let it.
I exhaled slowly, steadying myself, forcing that flicker of surprise back into nothing.
“Should I be impressed?” I asked, my voice even.
Cold.
Unaffected.
A lie.
But a convincing one.
His eyes darkened slightly.
Not in anger.
Interest.
That same unreadable interest.
“Most people are,” he said.
Of course they are.
I held his gaze for another second—
Two—
Then let my lips curve faintly.
Not a smile.
Never that.
“I’m not most people.”
The words hung between us.
Sharp.
Deliberate.
And for a brief second, my fingers tightened around the pendant again.
“…Thanks for returning it,” I added, almost as an afterthought—quiet, but not weak.
Not soft.
Just… acknowledged.
And for the first time—
Something in his expression shifted.
Not amusement.
Not indifference.
Something deeper.
Something that noticed me.
Really noticed.
And that—
That was far more dangerous than his name.
The air between us felt heavier now.
Charged.
Like something had just begun… instead of ending.
I broke the moment first.
Not because I wanted to.
Because I needed to.
Turning away, I took a step forward.
Then another.
But even as I walked away…
I could feel it.
His gaze.
Still on me.
Unmoving.
Unyielding.
And for reasons I didn’t understand-
My pulse didn’t slow down.
It only got louder.
She walked away.
And I let her.
Not because I couldn’t stop her.
Because I didn’t.
My steps were steady as I moved out of the crowd, the noise fading behind me with every second—but my mind didn’t follow.
It stayed.
With her.
Annoying.
I stepped out into the night, the cool air hitting my face, sharp enough to ground anyone else.
Not me.
Because even now—
All I could see…
Was her.
And those eyes.
Almond-shaped.
Black.
Not soft. Not timid.
They held something.
Something steady.
Something that didn’t lower itself.
She looked at me like she didn’t care who I was.
Like my name meant nothing.
A faint smirk tugged at my lips as I walked toward my car.
That was new.
People usually reacted.
Paused.
Adjusted.
But her?
She challenged.
Questioned.
Dismissed.
And still said thank you.
I opened the car door, sliding in, the leather cold against my skin.
The door shut with a dull thud.
Silence.
Finally.
But not really.
Because she was still there.
In my head.
Her voice.
Calm.
Sharp.
Controlled.
“I’m not most people.”
My lips curled.
I let out a quiet breath, leaning back slightly.
No.
She wasn’t.
There was something else too.
Something that didn’t fit neatly into words.
Bold.
That much was obvious.
The way she spoke.
The way she held herself.
The way she didn’t step back even when she should have.
But not reckless.
No.
There was… restraint.
A line she knew exactly where to draw.
And that made it worse.
Because boldness without control is predictable.
She wasn’t.
And then—
That moment.
When she saw the pendant in my hand.
Her expression didn’t break.
Not fully.
But it shifted.
Just enough.
There was something there.
Not panic.
Not fear.
Something deeper.
Something… personal.
Important.
My fingers tightened slightly on the steering wheel.
Why did that matter?
It shouldn’t.
None of this should.
I had more important things to think about.
Meetings.
Decisions.
Deals that actually mattered.
Not a girl I ran into for a few minutes.
Yet—
I could still feel the faint brush of her fingers when she took the pendant from me.
Brief.
Insignificant.
But it lingered.
I started the engine.
The low hum filled the car, but it did nothing to quiet my thoughts.
Annoying.
I don’t dwell.
I don’t repeat moments in my head.
I don’t—
Yet here I was.
Replaying every second.
The way she looked at me.
The way she didn’t flinch.
The way she walked away like she had already decided I wasn’t worth staying for.
My jaw tightened slightly.
That—
That didn’t sit well.
I pulled out onto the road, the city lights blurring past.
My mansion wasn’t far.
A familiar route.
One I could drive without thinking.
Which was exactly the problem.
Because I was thinking.
About her.
Again.
My grip on the wheel tightened.
This was nothing.
A passing moment.
That’s all it was.
And yet—
Something told me it wasn’t over.
Not even close.
Because for the first time in a long time—
Something had caught my attention…
And refused to let go.
The gates slid open the moment my car approached.
Of course they did.
Everything here moved on command.
Everything responded.
Everything obeyed.
I drove in without slowing, the familiar structure of my mansion standing tall, silent, exactly the way I left it.
Unchanging.
Predictable.
Controlled.
Just the way I preferred it.
The engine died.
Silence followed.
But not the kind I was used to.
This one… wasn’t empty.
It was loud.
Filled.
With her.
I stepped out, shutting the door harder than necessary.
Annoying.
This was getting… annoying.
I walked inside, my footsteps echoing against the polished floors, each step measured, each movement precise—
Yet my mind refused to follow the same discipline.
Her Tan skin held the warmth of sunlit gold, glowing with a quiet beauty that felt both effortless and unforgettable.
Her Black eyes were so deep and consuming, it felt like I was willingly drowning in them-lost, breathless,and never wanting to be found.
That voice...... So dangerously attractive, it lingers in my bones-soft yet commanding, like a melody I could surrender to for a lifetime without ever wanting silence.
That defiance burned in her gaze, fierce and unapologetic-an irresistible fire that made it impossible to look away.
I loosened my tie slightly, irritation building—not outwardly, never that—but inside, sharp and persistent.
Why was she still here?
Why hadn’t she faded like every other face?
I stopped mid-step.
The realization hitting not suddenly-
But slowly.
Dangerously.
Because she didn’t fade.
She stayed.
Uninvited.
Unwanted.
And yet—
Not entirely unwelcome.
My jaw tightened.
That was the problem.
I exhaled slowly, running a hand through my hair, trying to push the thoughts away.
It didn’t work.
Instead—
They sharpened.
The way she said “I’m not most people.”
The way she looked at me like my name didn’t matter.
The way she walked away.
Like she had already decided.
No hesitation.
No second glance.
That wasn’t how this worked.
Not with me.
People didn’t walk away like that.
People didn’t leave.
My fingers curled slightly.
And in that moment—
Something shifted.
Not irritation.
Not curiosity.
Something darker.
Something… clearer.
I straightened, the restlessness settling into something far more dangerous.
Controlled.
Focused.
Decided.
“She walked away,” I murmured under my breath.
Not a question.
A statement.
One I didn’t like.
One I wouldn’t accept.
A slow, almost imperceptible smirk formed on my lips.
Not amused.
Certain.
“No,” I said quietly.
More to myself than anyone else.
“She doesn’t get to do that.”
The thought didn’t feel impulsive.
It didn’t feel rushed.
It felt… natural.
Like a decision that had already been made somewhere deep within me.
I moved toward the window, my gaze drifting into the darkness outside—but I wasn’t seeing it.
I was seeing her.
Again.
And again.
And again.
And that’s when it settled.
Cold.
Absolute.
Unavoidable.
I wasn’t letting this go.
I wasn’t letting her go.
Not after that.
Not after the way she looked at me like I was just… another man.
A quiet chuckle escaped me.
Low.
Dangerous.
Unfamiliar.
“This isn’t over,” I murmured.
Because it wasn’t.
Not even close.
If anything—
This was just the beginning.
And for the first time in a long time…
I wasn’t interested in control.
I was interested in pursuit.
In unraveling.
In breaking whatever made her walk away so easily.
Because something about her—
Refused to leave my mind.
And I had no intention of letting that remain unfinished.
Not now.
Not ever.
And I realised something - that this is the beginning of My Twisted Obsession.
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