~THE LUSCIOUS AFFECTION~

~THE REAL MASTERMIND~ pakhi

I glanced at Pratyush. Without a word, he moved.

The steel door creaked open and from the darkness, he emerged—dragging someone in like a broken puppet. The man struggled, but Pratyush was unshaken. With practiced ease, he tied him to the Chair of Thorns—crafted with nails, blunt yet cruel, pressing into skin like whispers of agony.

The man flinched the moment he sat.

Saransh shifted in his seat. “Pakhi… who is this?”

I walked slowly toward the man, heels echoing in the room, a soft rhythm of control. I turned to Saransh with a smile and said, “Someone who owes us a truth… or a scream.”

Saransh’s eyes widened—this wasn’t just revenge, this was personal. His gaze flickered between me and the man tied to the chair, realization dawning slowly.

I tore the black cloth from his face, and there he was—my so-called father.

I leaned closer and slowly ripped the tape off his mouth.

“Pakhi, what are you doing!?” he spat, fury coating his words, but I heard it—that delicate tremble under his voice. Fear was beginning to wrap its fingers around his throat.

I smirked. “Hello Mr. Pawan Khurana… or should I say, Sandeep Khurana?” My voice dripped with mockery as I paced around him.

He blinked rapidly, “W-What? No! What are you talking about?!”

My chuckle was bitter. “Oh really? Is that the story you’re sticking with?” I said, walking toward the table beside me, fingers grazing the tool I’d been saving for this very moment.

I picked up the belt. Not just any belt—this one had small nails embedded along its length, not deep enough to kill, but perfect for a message.

I held it up for everyone to see, my eyes still locked on his.

The room fell completely silent. You could hear the crackling of nerves in the air, like lightning about to strike.

I leaned in close to his face, letting the belt drag along the ground, nails scraping just enough to echo.
“Okay… I guess you’re enjoying this seat a little too much. So let me tell you a story, Mr. Sandeep Khurana,” I hissed with a venom-laced smirk. His eyes darted around the room, panic slowly creeping in, but there was no escape now.

“One day… four people walked into a room—my mom, Preeti aunty, my dad, and a man named Sandeep Khurana.”

He blinked. Silent. Shaking slightly.

“What we were told was that only two people died, and my so-called father was injured. And that the killer? He ran away. But the truth?” I chuckled darkly, shaking my head.

“No... the truth is—not two, but three people were murdered that day. And not four, but five people were present.”

Saransh clenched his jaw, fists tightening as he watched me unravel the mystery like a blade to the throat.

“And what a plan it was… I almost want to applaud you, you bastard,” I whispered through gritted teeth. “You killed my mother, Preeti aunty, and my dad. Then you hid his body… faked your injuries… and became him! You stole his identity, his life, and mine. You even had the nerve to do face surgery so no one would question you.”

My voice cracked. Rage. Betrayal. Pain.

“You ruined my life. You poisoned my memories. I used to believe—I used to cry myself to sleep thinking my real father abandoned my mother… that he CHOSE that other woman over us!” My eyes brimmed with tears.

“And all that time… it was you! You fucking imposter!”

I screamed, lifting the belt—and crack! It landed on his chest.

He howled in pain as the nails scraped through fabric and skin, but I didn’t flinch.

“You made me hate him! You made me believe he was a coward!”

I raised the belt again, hand trembling—not from weakness, but from the storm brewing inside me.

“Tell me, Sandeep,” I spat. “How does it feel to wear the mask of a man you slaughtered?”

He looked up at me, bleeding and terrified.

But I wasn’t done.
Not even close.

“Okay… I admit it—I killed your father, Pakhi,” he confessed, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and guilt. “But I swear on everything, I didn’t lay a finger on your mother or Preeti. I didn’t kill them… you have to believe me.”

"I know!" I said, a cruel smirk dancing on my lips as I paced around him like a predator circling its prey.

He looked at me, startled, confusion laced with panic flashing in his eyes.

"I know everything, Mr. Sandeep Khurana..." I said, emphasizing every word like venom dripping from my tongue.
"You think you're the only player in this game? No. You're just a piece... a mere pawn on a much darker, twisted board."

His breathing grew heavier. “What… what are you talking about?”

I leaned in close, my voice dropping to a whisper, “You were used, Sandeep. You were the dirty hand that did the clean-up. But the mind behind it? The real devil hiding in plain sight?” I stood tall again and laughed softly. “They played you like a fool.”

His face paled.

"You see," I continued, circling again, "you might've worn my father's face, but someone else wore your loyalty. You pulled one trigger... but someone else planned which bullets to load and who to aim at."

I stopped and looked him in the eye.....

"You might be missing that person, right!!???" I said, my voice laced with venom, eyes burning with fire.
"How about a meetup?" I added, letting out a slow, wicked laugh that echoed through the walls like the devil’s lullaby.

Saransh stood frozen—shocked to his very core. The disbelief in his eyes was louder than words, and the way his breath hitched told me everything. He didn’t just want answers now... he needed them.

I glanced at him, letting the silence weigh heavy for a moment, then turned toward Pratyush with a deadly smirk.
"Let’s call the real mastermind..."

And right on cue, the doors creaked open, cold air rushing in as Pratyush stepped forward—dragging someone behind him......

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