He eased one chair aside with deliberate slowness.

The scrape was soft.

Almost lazy.

But in the dead hush of the library, it cracked like thunder through her bones.

Mini went rigid.

Her breath snagged in her throat as she shrank deeper under the table, nails scraping the chilled wood. Her heart thrashed wildly—each frantic beat a drum in her ears, so loud she feared it would call him straight to her.

Terror coiled hot and tight in her chest, stealing the air from her lungs.

He crouched lower.

She still couldn’t see his face—only the dark outline of him.

Black jeans molded to his thighs. A deep V-neck clinging to the hard lines of his chest.

A black leather jacket draped from one gloved hand. Those gloves—fingerless, exposing sharp knuckles and pale skin—made her stomach twist with fresh dread. A thin silver chain glinted against his collarbone, catching the amber light like a warning.

He didn’t hurry.

That terrified her most.

His hand slid beneath the table—slow, inevitable.

Mini’s breath died.

She jerked backward on instinct, spine slamming into the shelf behind her. Nowhere left. Panic clawed up her throat; her knees shook uncontrollably. She bit down on her lip until blood bloomed, desperate to swallow even the smallest sound.

Then— he Said

Run from me, little kitten.

Try to escape.

If I catch you…

I will touch you.

Right here.

And make this table our bed.

This solid wood won’t be kind to your soft skin.

So run.

Her sob broke free, raw and helpless.

In the same heartbeat, he moved.

One chair flew aside with a violent crash.

Another followed, wood splintering against the floor.

His gloved hand shot under from the left—fingers grazing her arm.

Mini screamed, shrill and broken, scrambling away as tears streamed down her face.

He laughed low, dark, thrilled by her panic.

Another hand lunged from the right—closer this time, knuckles brushing her hair.

She twisted desperately, crawling, kicking, sobbing louder.

From behind—his grip almost closed around her ankle.

She jerked free with a terrified cry.

From the front—fingers clawing the air inches from her throat.

He was everywhere.

Toying with her.

Enjoying the hunt.

Mini’s world narrowed to frantic breaths, burning lungs, and the inescapable truth:

He was going to catch her.

And when he did…

She would be his.

Then, in one swift motion, his arms plunged beneath the table.

Strong hands locked around her waist—warm, unyielding, impossible to fight.

Mini thrashed wildly, nails raking at his forearms, legs kicking against nothing.

A strangled cry tore from her throat as he dragged her out into the open, the cold floor scraping her skin.

She twisted in his hold, pure instinct driving her, and in the chaos her tongue flicked across the bare strip of his wrist where the glove ended—salty skin, heat, the faint taste of leather and something darker.

The contact lasted less than a second, but it burned them both.

He froze for a heartbeat.

A low, rough exhale escaped him—half growl, half something hungrier.

Only then did the dim light catch his face.

Black mask.

Matte, seamless, covering everything from nose to hairline.

Only his eyes were visible—dark, glittering, fixed on her with predatory intensity.

The silver chain at his throat glinted like the single clue to the man she thought she knew.

Mini’s struggles faltered.

Her breath came in shallow, panicked gasps as the realization slammed into her.

He had hidden himself completely.

Let her taste him… but never see him.

His grip tightened, pulling her flush against his chest.

One gloved hand slid up her spine, fingers splaying possessively at the nape of her neck.

The mask brushed her temple as he leaned in, voice muffled but unmistakable—low, dangerous, dripping with satisfaction.

“You shouldn’t have done that, little kitten.”

His thumb stroked the frantic pulse at her throat.

“Now I’ll have to return the favor.”

Her body trembled violently in his arms—fear, shame, and that traitorous spark of heat warring inside her.

There was no escaping him now.

Not his hands.

Not his hunger.

Not the dark promise burning behind that mask.

He turned her roughly, pressing her back against the hard table.

Mini’s tears fell non-stop. She was shaking, scared, and helpless.

He leaned in close, his black mask hiding his whole face. Only his dark eyes showed—full of hunger.

He pinned both her hands beside her head with one strong grip. She couldn’t move them at all. His body was heavy on hers, trapping her completely.

The masked face came down to her neck.

Hot breath touched her skin first.

Then his lips—through the thin fabric of the mask—brushed her neck softly. Again. Harder. Like a kiss that wasn’t really a kiss, but a claim.

Mini cried louder. Sobs shook her chest.

“No… please…” she whispered, but her voice was weak and broken.

His shoulder was right near her face.

Something inside her snapped—she didn’t want to give in. With all the strength she had left, she turned her head and bit his shoulder hard. Teeth sank deep into muscle.

He made a sharp, pained sound.

His grip on her hands loosened for a second—surprised, hurt.

That second was enough.

Mini pulled her knee up fast and kicked his belly with everything she had.

He grunted and stumbled back.

She rolled off the table and fell to the floor, but she jumped up right away. Heart racing, legs shaking, she ran toward the door.

Freedom was so close.

But then—

A masked man was already there, waiting in the shadows.

He grabbed the edge of the long carpet she was running on and yanked it hard backward.

The carpet slid fast under her feet.

Friction pulled her legs out from under her. Mini lost balance completely and crashed down—arms flying, a scared cry escaping her lips as she hit the cold floor.

Before she could even try to crawl away, strong arms caught her from behind.

He pulled her back against his chest, one arm locking around her waist, the other hand covering her mouth gently but firmly.

His masked face pressed close to her ear.

Voice low, dark, almost proud:

“Nice try, little kitten.”

“But you’re not going anywhere.”

Mini struggled again, tears streaming, body tired and shaking.

She was caught.

Again.

And this time… she knew he wouldn’t let her slip away so easily.

His arms tightened around her like chains.

One hand stayed gently but firmly over her mouth, muffling her cries. The other locked around her waist, pulling her back hard against his chest. She could feel every inch of him—strong, warm, unmovable.

Mini kicked and twisted, tears pouring down her face. Her hands clawed at his arm, trying to pull it away from her mouth. But he didn’t budge. He just held her closer, like she belonged there.

The black mask brushed her ear again.

His breath was hot through the fabric as he spoke, voice low and calm… almost proud.

“You fight so beautifully, little kitten.”

A soft chuckle vibrated against her back.

“But every time you run… you end up right back in my arms.”

She shook her head, sobbing harder. “Let me go… please…” The words came out weak and muffled against his gloved hand.

He turned her slowly in his hold, forcing her to face him.

Those dark eyes stared down at her through the mask—no smile, no anger, just deep, burning possession.

One finger traced a tear down her cheek, gentle… too gentle.

It made her shiver.

“You bit me,” he whispered.

“You kicked me.”

“You ran from me.”

His head tilted.

“And still… you’re here. With me. Where you’re supposed to be.”

Mini’s chest hurt from crying. Her legs felt weak. She wanted to scream, to fight more, but her body was tired… and a small, confusing part of her felt strangely safe in his strong arms, even though she hated it.

He leaned closer. The mask touched her forehead lightly.

“Shhh,” he murmured. “Stop fighting now. It’s over.”

His hand moved from her mouth to cup her wet cheek.

She didn’t scream this time. She just cried quietly, looking up at those hidden eyes.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said softly.

“I’m going to keep you.”

Then he lifted her easily into his arms—like she weighed nothing—and carried her toward the dark corner of the library, away from the door, away from any hope of escape.

Mini closed her eyes, tears still falling.

She was trapped.

Completely his.

And deep down… she knew the chase was only just beginning.

He carried her deeper into the shadows of the library, where the lights barely reached. Gently, almost carefully, he lowered her onto a soft reading chair hidden between two tall shelves.

Mini curled into herself, knees to her chest, face hidden in her hands. Tears kept falling silently. Her body still shook from everything—the chase, the mask, the fear, the confusing heat she couldn’t understand.

He knelt in front of her.

The masked figure stayed quiet for a long moment, just watching her cry.

Then he reached into his pocket.

From the darkness, he pulled out a thin silver chain with a small pendant—a delicate letter A that caught the faint light.

He leaned forward slowly.

Mini didn’t move. She was too tired, too broken to fight anymore.

With careful fingers, he slipped the necklace around her neck.

The cool metal touched her skin. The pendant settled just above her heart.

His gloved hand brushed her collarbone as he fastened the clasp.

Then his voice came—low, possessive, final.

“You are mine.”

The words hung in the air like a promise. Like a chain.

Mini closed her eyes tightly.

Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. She sank lower into the chair, covering her face with both hands, sobbing quietly into her palms. The necklace felt heavy… like it was already pulling her deeper into him.

Complete silence fell around them.

Only her soft cries and his steady breathing.

Then—

A warm hand gently touched her shoulder.

“Hey… Mini?”

The voice was different.

Soft. Worried. Familiar.

“Mini, why are you crying?”

Her breath stopped.

She slowly lowered her hands and opened her eyes.

It was Kian.

Standing there, looking down at her with real concern. His school bag hung from one shoulder. His kind eyes were wide with worry.

Mini didn’t think.

She just launched herself into his arms, hugging him tightly, face buried in his chest as she cried harder.

Kian froze for a second, then wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

“Shh… it’s okay. I’m here,” he whispered, stroking her hair gently. “What happened? Did someone hurt you? Tell me… I swear I won’t forgive that person. I’ll find them.”

Mini clung to him, shaking.

She wanted to tell him everything—the mask, the chase, the book, the necklace burning against her skin.

But —

Fear choked her.

She couldn’t speak.

She couldn’t risk it.

So she pulled back a little, wiped her tears, and lied.

“I… I just got too emotional,” she whispered, voice shaky. “That’s all. I’m fine.”

Kian frowned. He didn’t believe her.

He cupped her face gently, looking into her red eyes.

“Mini… you’re not fine. Talk to me. Is there a problem at home? Anything? You know you can tell me everything.”

She forced a small, broken smile.

Touched his hand on her cheek.

“I’m okay, Kian. Really. Just… a bad moment.”

But as she said it, her fingers brushed the pendant hidden under her shirt.

The letter A felt cold against her skin.

And somewhere in the shadows…

She knew he was still watching.

Kian held her for a long time, rubbing her back softly until her sobs turned into quiet sniffles.

“It’s okay… you’re safe now,” he whispered again and again.

He pulled away a little, reached into his bag, and took out a water bottle.

“Here, drink this. Slow sips.”

Mini took it with shaky hands. The cool water helped calm her throat. She drank, eyes still red and swollen, trying to pull herself together.

Then suddenly—she remembered.

“My phone…” she said in a small voice. “I think I dropped it.”

She looked around the floor near the chair, under the shelves. Kian helped her search.

Finally, she found it near the table—screen cracked badly, pieces of glass falling out. It was completely broken.

“Oh no…” Mini whispered, heart sinking deeper. Now she had no way to call anyone… or check messages… or see if he had sent something.

Kian picked it up carefully.

“Don’t worry. I’ll get it repaired tomorrow. Come on, let’s go.”

He stood and offered his hand.

“We’re going to my announcement party.”

Mini blinked, confused. “Announcement party…? What announcement?”

Kian smiled, eyes bright. “First come with me. It’s incomplete without my best friend.”

For Kian, Mini wiped her tears with the back of her hand. She forced a small smile—like nothing had happened, like her world hadn’t just shattered.

“Okay,” she said softly.

She let him pull her up. Together, they walked out of the library.

The evening air felt cool outside the university gate. There was a small chai stall just across the road, with an old TV hanging on the wall. A few students stood watching.

The news was playing live.

And on the screen—clear as day—was Aryansh.

Tall, perfect suit, charming smile. He was at some big event, speaking into microphones.

The ticker at the bottom read:

“Live: Aryansh Aditya Roy at Charity Gala – Speech ongoing for the last 40 minutes.”

Mini stopped walking.

Her blood turned ice-cold.

Kian was right beside her the whole time.

He was tall… but not that tall.

And Aryansh—the man she thought was her stalker—was on live TV, in front of hundreds of people, speaking for the past forty minutes.

He couldn’t have been in the library.

He couldn’t have chased her.

Touched her.

Masked her fear.

Put that necklace around her neck.

Then… who was it?

Who was the real man who played with he

r?

Who made her scream?

Who scared her until she broke?

Who touched her skin… and marked her as his?

Mini’s hand slowly went to her throat.

The silver A pendant was still there—cold against her skin.

Her smile faded.

Her breath shook.

Someone else had been watching her.

Hunting her.

Claiming her.

And he was still out there.

____

Mini sat quietly in the passenger seat of Kian's car, fingers twisting the hem of her kurti. The city lights blurred past, but her mind was still trapped in the library-under that table, in those gloved arms, with the cold silver A now hidden beneath her kurti.

They slowed in front of a massive iron gate. It swung open silently, revealing a long driveway lined with perfectly trimmed hedges and soft garden lights.

At the end stood the Awasthi villa-one of the most beautiful houses she had ever seen. White marble, tall glass windows, fountains whispering in the night. A dream house.But to Mini, it had always felt like a cage.

She had only been allowed inside once-as a servant's daughter, carrying trays during a party, head bowed, called "beti" by the staff and nothing at all by the mistress of the house.

Karisma Awasthi hated her.

Not loudly. Not cruelly in words. But in looks. In the way she said, "Call me Madam," with that tight, polite smile. In the way she reminded everyone-especially Mini-that she didn't belong to "their society."

Kian parked, jumped out, and came around to her side with his usual bright grin.

"Come on, bestie! You're gonna love this."

He held out his hand.

Mini took it, but her palm was ice-cold. Her legs felt heavy as he pulled her toward the garden where fairy lights twinkled and soft music played. Guests milled around a decorated stage at the far end.

Then Karisma appeared-elegant in a cream saree, diamonds flashing at her throat.

She opened her arms wide. "Mere pyare beta!"

She hugged Kian tightly, kissing both his cheeks. "Mumma loves you, my baby."

Kian laughed, hugging her back. "Ma, stop embarrassing me."

Karisma smiled warmly at her son, then said, "Come with me, beta. Everyone's waiting near the stage."

Kian started walking with his mother, then turned and waved. "Mini, come here! You have to stand right in front!"

Mini took one hesitant step forward.

Karisma turned back.

Her eyes met Mini's-just for a second.

No words.

Just a slow, deliberate movement of her lips:

Stay there. Don't come.

Mini froze on the spot.

The old wound opened instantly.

She remembered everything.

She had liked Kian since she was fourteen-quiet, hopeless, butterflies every time he smiled at her during those rare visits when her father was called for extra work at the Awasthi house.

Then destiny shifted. Kian was supposed to study in Australia, but he chose India instead.

They ended up in the same college. Became best friends.

Laughed together.

Shared secrets.

Stayed up late texting.

But he had always had girlfriends.

School sweetheart. Then Rohini in college for a month.

After every breakup, Mini's heart whispered: Now. Tell him now.

She never could.

So on Valentine's Day two years ago, she wrote everything down-every feeling, every stolen glance, every dream-on pale pink paper. Folded it into a tiny heart. Slipped it into his bag when he wasn't looking.

She never knew it fell out at home.

Karisma found it.

The next time Mini came to the house (again, helping the staff), Karisma called her into the study.

Closed the door.

Held up the letter between two fingers like it was dirty.

"You think you're worthy of my son?"

Her voice was soft, almost kind. That made it worse.

"Stay in your place, child. Some dreams are not for girls like you."

Mini had cried all the way home on the bus.

Since that day, she buried her feelings deep. Became the perfect best friend. Smiled when he talked about other girls. Helped him choose gifts for dates.

And now here she was-standing outside the garden lights like a stranger, watching mother and son walk toward the stage together.

Kian looked back again, confused. "Mini?"

Karisma placed a gentle hand on his arm and said something Mini couldn't hear.

Kian frowned but turned back to the stage.

Mini stayed where she was.

Alone under the garden lights.

The silver A suddenly felt heavier against her chest.

Her phone was broken.

Her heart felt broken.

And the real monster-the one in the mask-was still out there.

Watching.

Waiting.

Knowing exactly where she was.

Because the pendant wasn't just jewelry.

It was a tracker.

And right now, in this beautiful garden full of people...

And

She had never felt more alone.

___

Mini stood frozen at the edge of the garden, the fairy lights mocking her from afar like stars she could never touch. Laughter and clinking glasses floated through the air, but her world had narrowed to the stage where Kian stood tall, smiling under the spotlight. His mother beamed beside him, hand on his shoulder like a proud queen.

The announcement came like a thunderclap she couldn't dodge.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Kian's father, Rajeev Awasthi, boomed into the mic, his voice rich and commanding. "We're thrilled to share that my son, Kian, is officially stepping into the family business. Tomorrow night, at his birthday celebration, we'll sign his first major deal-with the prestigious Roy empire. A new era begins!"

Cheers erupted. Kian waved, modest and glowing, hugging his parents. Mini's chest tightened. His birthday. Tomorrow. She had saved every rupee from her odd jobs-5,000 in total-for a simple silver watch. Nothing fancy, just something to say I'm proud of you without saying too much. But now? It felt like crumbs.

She was happy for him. Really.

But the ache in her throat whispered: You'll never fit in that world.

Footsteps crunched on the gravel behind her.

"Follow me."

Karisma's voice was silk over steel. Mini turned, heart sinking. The older woman's saree shimmered like she owned the night itself. Her eyes-sharp, assessing-raked over Mini's simple kurti and jhumkas.

Mini obeyed, legs heavy, trailing her into the villa through a side door. The marble floors echoed coldly under her juti. Karisma led her to a guest room, flicking on a lamp that cast long shadows over racks of dresses-silks and chiffons, once vibrant but now gathering faint dust.

"Select one," Karisma said flatly, gesturing to the old gowns. "Whichever you like."

Mini's fingers hesitated over a faded lavender lehenga, the fabric soft but worn at the edges. "Madam... but why? These look... old."

Karisma's lips curved, not quite a smile. "Old for me. Not for you."

She stepped closer, voice dropping to a venomous whisper. "I don't want any drama tomorrow night. At his birthday. Like last time."

Mini's breath hitched. Last time. The memory slammed into her-working as a waitress to afford college books, spilling cake on Kian's shirt by accident, laughing as he wiped frosting on her nose. They'd danced, clumsy and free, to a silly song.

He'd fed her a bite from his plate, eyes sparkling. Innocent. Joyful.

To Karisma? A scandal.

"You, the little waitress, holding my Kian's hand. Dancing like you belonged. And the cake..." Her nose wrinkled in disgust. "Mere bete ne tera jhootha khaya tha. I hated that moment. So I know you'll come-because you always do. But please, this time... blend in. Stay invisible."

Mini's cheeks burned, shame coiling hot in her belly. She opened her mouth to protest-to say she'd stay away, that she wasn't a threat-but the door burst open.

"Karisma!"

Rajeev Awasthi stormed in, face flushed with that rare anger he reserved for family spats. "She's just Kian's friend. Leave her alone."

Karisma whirled, eyes flashing. "Why, Rajeev? You know what's in her mind. I don't want this bhikaran to become the daughter-in-law of our house. Iske hum dimaag mein kya hai-you know!"

The word hit like a slap. Bhikaran( Beggar).

Mini's vision blurred. Her throat closed. She didn't wait for Rajeev's defense, didn't wait for the pity in his eyes. She bolted-past the racks, down the hall, out the side door, into the night. Tears streamed hot down her face as she ran, chappals slapping the driveway gravel. The gate loomed, and she slipped through like a ghost, hailing an auto-rickshaw with shaking hands.

Bhikaran.

The word echoed louder than the engine's rumble. She wasn't worthy. Never had been. Kian's world was deals and diamonds; hers was pizza shifts and patched dreams.

By the time she reached the pizzeria, her eyes were puffy, her heart a bruised thing. The manager barely glanced at her as she tied on her apron and started flipping dough under the fluorescent buzz. Orders came fast-midnight munchies for college kids and night-shift workers. She smiled through it all, mechanical, her mind replaying Karisma's sneer. Jhootha khaya tha. Like sharing cake with her son was a sin.

Twelve hours later-no, wait, her shift ended at midnight, body aching from the heat and the weight of unshed tears. The auto ride home blurred the city into streaks of neon. Her family's tiny flat was dark when she slipped in, everyone asleep-father snoring softly, mother's sari draped over a chair. Mini tiptoed to her room, closed the door with a quiet click, and sank onto the rickety chair by her bed.

The watch sat on the table-simple, elegant, wrapped in brown paper with a tag: Happy Birthday, bestie. You deserve the world.

She couldn't go. Couldn't face the villa, the dresses that screamed charity, the eyes that saw her as less. Five thousand rupees-her savings, her sacrifice-and for what? To stand in the shadows again?

A soft chime cut the silence.

Her bag.

Mini lunged for it, heart stuttering. She unzipped it, and there-nestled inside like it had always belonged-was a phone. Not just any phone. The latest model, sleek black glass, the kind only influencers and heirs could afford. No scratches. No case. Just... hers.

It rang again-unknown number flashing on the pristine screen.

Her thumb hovered, trembling. Then, against every screaming instinct, she answered.

"Hello...?"

The voice slithered through the speaker-low, rough, laced with dark amusement.

"You marked me, little kitten."

Her breath stopped. The room spun. That voice-from the library, from her nightmares, from the heat she couldn't forget.

He was here.

In her hand.

In her home.

And he knew everything.

____

The screen lit up again.

The caller ID wasn't "Unknown."

It said: Boyfriend ❤️

Her stomach flipped.

Butterflies mixed with ice-cold fear.

How did he do this? How did he know everything?

She couldn't hang up.

Her thumb pressed the green button before she could stop herself.

"Hello...?" Her voice came out small, scared.

The deep, rough voice answered slowly, like he was smiling.

"You marked me, little kitten."

A soft laugh that made her skin tingle.

"You licked me. You bit me. You fought me."

"And now... I'm saved in your phone as your boyfriend."

Mini's breath stopped.

She looked at the screen again.

Yes. Boyfriend with a red heart.

"How... how did you-?"

"Shhh," he whispered. "I told you. I own everything now. Your phone. Your secrets. Your pretty little heart."

She sat down hard on the chair, tears starting again.

"But... why me?"

"Because you're mine."

His voice dropped lower, warm and dangerous.

"You've always been mine. You just didn't know it yet."

Mini closed her eyes.

The silver A pendant felt hot against her skin.

The expensive phone felt heavy in her hand.

Everything he touched turned into a chain.

"Good night, little kitten," he said softly.

"Dream of me.

Tomorrow is a big day... I'll be watching."

The call ended.

Mini stared at the screen.

Boyfriend disappeared.

The phone locked itself.

She was alone again.

But not really.

He was everywhere now.

Even in her contacts.

Even in her dreams.

And tomorrow - Kian's big birthday party -

She knew he would be there too.

Watching.

Waiting.

Ready to play.

To be continue...