🍁𝒪𝒽 𝐿𝒾𝓀𝒽𝒹𝒾 𝒯𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒩𝒶𝒶𝓂 𝒥𝒾𝓃𝒹𝓇𝒾 𝒥𝒶𝒶𝓃𝒾𝓎𝑒,

𝐵𝒶𝓈 𝑅𝑒𝒽𝓃𝒶 𝒯𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒩𝒶𝒶𝓁 𝒱𝑒 𝒵𝒶𝓇𝓊𝓇𝒾 𝒜𝑒,.

𝒩𝒶𝒶𝓁 𝒯𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝐸𝓀 𝒢𝒽𝒶𝓇 𝑀𝒶𝒾𝓃 𝒮𝑜𝒸𝒽𝒶

𝐵𝒶𝒽𝓇𝒾 𝒦𝒽𝑜𝓁𝒶 𝒯𝑒 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓃𝓃 𝒟𝒾𝓀𝒽 𝒥𝒶𝒶𝓋𝑒

𝒜𝓃𝓀𝒽𝒶 𝒞𝒽 𝐵𝑒𝑒𝓉𝒶𝓃 𝑅𝒶𝒶𝓉𝒶𝒶𝓃 𝒮𝒶𝓇𝒾𝓎𝒶𝓃

𝒥𝑒 𝑀𝒶𝓃𝓃 𝐿𝒶𝑔𝑒 𝒯𝑒 𝒜𝓃𝓀𝒽 𝒩𝒶 𝐿𝒶𝒶𝑔

𝑒🍁

The golden hour light filtered through the sprawling branches of the ancient oak tree, casting dancing shadows over the worn pages of the book in Ishika’s lap. The world around her—the campus noise, the distant honking of cars, the weight of her scholarship—had all faded away.

She was in Verona, and her heart was breaking.

A soft hiccup escaped her lips, followed by a quiet, trembling sob that shook her small frame. She wiped a stray tear from her cheek with the back of her hand, but another took its place immediately. Slowly, with a voice that was barely a breath, she murmured the final, haunting lines of the play:

“For never was a story of more woe, than this of Juliet and her Romeo.”

She closed the book gently, her fingers lingering on the cover as if she were saying goodbye to friends. She leaned her head back against the rough bark of the tree, looking up at the sky.

"Is love always a death sentence?" she whispered to the wind. "Is it always meant to end in blood and silence?"

She didn't know that just a few hundred yards away, a black tinted car was pulling up to the gates. She didn't know that the man inside that car didn't believe in poetry, didn't believe in "woe," and was about to turn her quiet world into a battlefield.

Under that oak tree, Ishika was still whole. She was still a girl who cried over fictional tragedies, unaware that her own tragedy was already walking toward her,

Ishika sat trembling, the weight of the tragic ending crushing her heart. She traced the embossed letters on the cover of the book, her fingers shaking.

"There is no love like Romeo and Juliet," she whispered, her voice thick with hiccups. "No story except theirs... everyone else just pretends."

Suddenly, a shadow fell over her, cooling the golden sunlight. A pristine, white silk handkerchief appeared in her line of sight, smelling of expensive sandalwood and power.

Ishika looked up, her eyes wide and swimming in tears.

It was Ruhaan.

He didn't look like the monster from the dark hallway. Not yet. He looked like a savior. He leaned forward, his movements slow and deliberate, and tucked a stray, wind-blown strand of hair behind her ear. His touch was so soft, so impossibly gentle, it felt like the brush of a butterfly’s wing.

A small, devastatingly handsome smile played on his lips—a smile that didn't reach his cold, calculating eyes. He leaned down until his breath stirred the hair at her temple.

"Don't worry, Ishq," he whispered, his voice a smooth, dark velvet. "Ours will be the exception."

Ishika looked at the white silk through a blur of salt and grief. Tentatively, her fingers brushed against his as she took the handkerchief. She wiped her eyes, the soft fabric soaking up her sorrow, before holding it out to him.

"Thanks..." she murmured, her voice small and fragile, like a bird with a broken wing.

Ruhaan didn't just take the handkerchief. He reached out and closed his hand over hers for a fraction of a second, his skin searingly hot against her cold fingers. When he finally drew the silk away, he didn't put it in his pocket.

With a slow, rhythmic grace, he raised the damp cloth to his face. He pressed the spot where her tears had gathered directly against his forehead, closing his eyes as if he were receiving a blessing.

Ishika froze, her breath catching in her throat. It was a gesture so intimate, so sacred, it felt like a silent vow. To him, those tears weren't just water; they were liquid pearls, the most precious thing he had ever touched.

"You have no idea what you’ve just given me. To the world, these are just tears... but to me, they are the most precious pearls I have ever held."

He opened his eyes, and for the first time, the coldness was gone. There was only a terrifying, beautiful devotion. He stepped closer, his shadow shielding her from the harsh sun.

He looked down at the tear-stained hanky in his palm, his grip tightening.

"Every drop of pain you shed... it has a price. To the world, these are just tears. To me? They are the ink I’ll use to write our story. I’ll keep them closer to me than my own soul, because unlike everyone else in your life, I know exactly what your sorrow is worth."

He reached out, his thumb grazing her lower lip with a tenderness that brought fresh tears to her eyes.

"If the world ever dares to make you cry again, I will burn it down just to see you smile. Your pain is my temple, and I will spend the rest of my life making sure these are the last tears you ever shed. I don't just love you, Ishq... I belong to you."

She shook her head. Her cheeks flushed eyes flutterd her voice below a whisper

"You are insane Ruhaan"

Ruhaan Smirked and leaned closer his voice voice low playfull teasing

" Nope I was insane before before you in my life but now...."

He stepped back.. spreading his arms as telling not only her but the whole world in a loud proud voice .

"NOW I AM FULLY SANE!!! FULL SANE...ONLY FOR YOU " He winked again with that charming smile.

Ishika just shook her head. A lil smile on her lips.....

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

He slammed her against the marble wall, his body hitting hers with the force of a wrecking ball. Ishika gasped, the air leaving her lungs as her head snapped back against the cold stone.

"Ruhaan... stop," she choked out, her voice fractured. Tears blurred her vision, but she could still see the monster in his eyes—older, colder, and far more dangerous.

He didn't listen. He pinned her wrists above her head with one hand, his grip bruising. He leaned in, his face buried in the curve of her neck, inhaling her scent like a man starving for a drug that had almost killed him. A low, ragged groan escaped his throat—a sound of pure, unadulterated agony and obsession.

"You thought you could run?" he hissed against her skin, his breath burning like ice. "You betrayed the only thing I ever gave you. My heart... and you crushed it under your heels."

"You destroyed me first!" she cried out, a single tear tracking a path down her cheek.

Ruhaan pulled back just an inch, his eyes dark with a madness only she could create. "Then let’s finish the job, Ishika. If I’m going to hell for what I’m about to do to you... at least I’ll have company."

He just leaned in, burying his face in the crook of her neck. He inhaled sharply, a low, guttural groan escaping his throat that sounded like a mix of a sob and a snarl.

"Ruhaan... please," Ishika whispered, her voice trembling. Tears spilled over, wetting his expensive suit jacket. "Don't do this... I’m begging you, stop."

He pulled back just enough to let her see the wreckage in his eyes. There was no mercy there. Only a dark, burning hunger that had been simmering for years.

"Stop?" His voice was a jagged blade. "I stopped breathing the day you walked away, Ishika. I stopped feeling the day you broke the only promise that mattered."

"I had to leave!" she screamed, her voice echoing in the hollow hallway. "I had no choice!"

"You had a choice between us and your freedom," he roared, his fist slamming into the wall beside her ear, making her flinch. "And you chose a life without me. So now, I’m choosing a life where you never get to leave again. You aren't a person to me anymore, Ishika. You are a debt. And I have come to collect every single drop of blood you owe my heart."

He leaned back in, his lips brushing her ear, his voice dropping to a terrifying, velvet tone.

"Beg all you want. Cry until your eyes go dry. But remember this: I didn't search the whole world for you just to let you breathe easily. I found you... so I could finally watch you burn the way I did."

He didn't listen to her pleas. He didn't care for her tears. He buried his face in her neck, and then—with a sudden, violent hunger—he bit her.

He sank his teeth into the delicate curve of her shoulder, right where the veins throbbed with her racing pulse. Ishika’s eyes flew wide, her back arching against the cold marble as a sharp, searing bolt of pain shot through her.

"Ahhh! Ruhaan... stop!" she hissed, a strangled cry escaping her throat.

Her fingers dug into the expensive fabric of his shoulders, her knuckles white as she gripped him, trying to push him away or pull him closer—she didn't even know anymore. The pain was blinding, but the intensity of his hold was even more terrifying.

"You're hurting me!" she cried, her voice cracking.

"Good!" he roared, his forehead slamming against hers. "Feel it! Let it burn! Because the pain in your shoulder is nothing compared to the silence you left in my life. You treated my heart like a page in your diary—something you could just rip out and throw away when the story got too heavy!"

Ishika shook her head, her tears wetting his lips. "I’m not that girl anymore..."

"And I’m not the boy who waited at the gates for you!" He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look into his wreckage. "That boy died. You killed him. And the man standing in front of you now? He doesn't want your explanations. He wants to see if you bleed the same color as the ink on that paper."

He leaned back into her ear, his voice dropping to a terrifying, broken whisper.

"Don't pray for me to stop, Ishika. Pray that I don't run out of reasons to hate you. Because the moment I stop hating you... I’ll have nothing left at all."

Ishika looked up at him through a blurred veil of tears, her voice barely a thread, vibrating with a pain that went deeper than the mark on her shoulder.

"You hate me... this much?" she

whispered, the words trembling on her lips. "After all these years, Ruhaan... is this all that’s left? Just hate?"

Ruhaan went deathly still. He pulled back, his hands still pinning her wrists, his chest heaving as he stared down at her. For a heartbeat, the monster vanished, replaced by a man who looked like he was standing on the edge of a cliff.

"Hate?" He let out a low, hollow laugh that sounded more like a choked sob. "No, Ishika. It’s not hate. Hate is a feeling. Hate requires a heart... and mine stopped beating the night you walked away."

"Then what is this?" she cried out, her voice finally cracking as she struggled against him. "Because this... this is not love, Ruhaan! Love doesn't bite! Love doesn't bruise! Love doesn't hunt!"

Ruhaan leaned in until his cold lips were brushing against her forehead, his eyes dark with a terrifying, endless void.

"You’re right," he whispered, his voice like dry leaves crushing underfoot. "It’s not love. Love is for people who have hope. Love is for people who believe in tomorrow."

He gripped her chin, forcing her to look into the wreckage of his soul.

"This is an addiction, Ishika. You are the drug that destroyed my life, and I am the junkie who crawled through glass just to get one more taste of his ruin. I don't love you. I possess you. I am the shadow that was born the moment you stepped into the light, and as long as I’m alive... you will never walk in the sun again."

His eyes bored into hers, the raw intensity feeling like a physical weight pressing her against the marble. When he spoke, his voice was barely more than a gruff, broken whisper.

"It’s beyond hate, Ishika. Beyond even love. It’s consuming. A fire that rages in my blood when I’m near you... and a poison that courses through my veins when I’m away."

He leaned in, his lips inches from hers, his breath hot against her skin.

"I can’t hate you. I can’t love you. I can do nothing but need you. I crave you like I crave air... and tonight, Ishika, I’m finally done suffocating."

"I'm scared of you!" she cried, her voice a fragile sliver of glass.

"You should be!" he roared, his eyes flashing with a terrifying, dark fire. "Because I’m scared of me too! I’m scared of how much I missed the scent of your skin while I was busy planning your destruction. I’m scared that even now, with your blood on my teeth and your tears on my face... I would still burn in hell just to hear you whisper my name one more time."

With those final words, he didn't just lean in—he collided with her.

He kissed her, and it was a shattering, violent collision of two souls that had been warring for years. It wasn't affectionate; there was no warmth, no tenderness, no soft promise of a "happily ever after." It was a kiss born of loathe—a deep, aching resentment for the power she still held over him. It was a kiss meant to punish, meant to reclaim, and meant to silence every plea she had ever made.

He tasted like the bitterness of years, and she felt the raw, jagged edges of his heart cutting into hers.

It was a kiss meant to punish, meant to reclaim, and meant to silence every plea she had ever made.

He tasted like the bitterness of five years, and she felt the raw, jagged edges of his heart cutting into hers.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

So this is the story which is not written by ink but by tears...of two broken souls....there love isn't sweet like everyone's...there love ..is exception....they both burnt in hatred and betrayal but chose the love again hope again let's see will they have the happy life ever after again ? ...

________________________________________

Author's Note:-

Hello cuties this was the prologue..I know I am soo late for this but ..I don't planned to publish PROLOGUE before but know I felt like I should..I mean..just to make u guys ..more intrested and I know it's intense but I had already warned u guys before that this is not that sweet story as ruhaan himself said thier love is excption....so if u still feel u can't tolarate step back...emotion and mental peace is important I know..ok guyss.byee.stay tuned for next chapter.....💕💕💕💕

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/>💌

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　.⠀　　⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀,

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀.　　　　　　　　　　⠀⠀⠀✦ ⠀ ⠀　　　　　　　　　　　　　　⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀* ⠀⠀⠀.　　　　　　　　　　. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀✦⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀.　　　　　　　　　　　　　.　　　ﾟ .　　　　　　　　　　　　　. 　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　✦ 　　　　　,　　　　　　　.

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.⠀　⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀,

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