The night air was thick with tension as Kiaan and his team approached the abandoned building on the outskirts of Swindon. The skeletal structure loomed under the moonlight like a forgotten beast, its shattered windows flickering with faint shadows of movement inside. Inside, countless men guarded the illegal stash of drugs, their murmurs and footsteps echoing through the cavernous halls.
Kiaan's heart pounded, but his face remained a mask of steel as the team slipped in, silent and deadly. One by one, they eliminated the guards—quick, clean, and precise. Each breath held, every step measured. As the last sentry fell, they reached the main hall and secured it with swift efficiency.
Kiaan turned, his voice low and commanding:
"I'll handle the back building. You all hold here. No mistakes."
Without waiting, Kiaan slipped away, ghostlike, blending into the shadows. The back building was darker, the air thicker with the stench of decay and chemicals. He moved smoothly, avoiding the sharp gaze of the remaining men, approaching the heavily guarded stash.
Just as his fingers brushed the package wrapped tightly with plastic, a voice sliced through the silence like a dagger.
"Stubborn as usual, little agent?"
Kiaan's breath hitched. Slowly, he turned.
There, standing tall and commanding, was Reyaan Malhotra — a towering figure with dark, piercing eyes that seemed to devour the light around him. His fit, muscular frame radiated lethal grace, and the faintest cruel smile tugged at his lips. Behind him, a group of deadly men followed with calculated menace.
Reyaan's voice was calm but edged with icy contempt as he took a step closer.
"How does it feel, Kiaan?" he asked, his tone mocking but cold. "Seeing the man who marked your wrist twice… the one who tore into you like you were nothing."
Kiaan's jaw clenched, the memory of those brutal moments flashing in his mind. The pain. The humiliation. The unshakable mark etched into his skin — a permanent reminder of the dominance Reyaan wielded over him.
"I'm not here to remember, Malhotra," Kiaan spat back, voice steady but simmering with fury. "I'm here to end what you started."
Reyaan's smile deepened, dark and dangerous.
"Bold words from a boy who's been bruised more times than he can count." He took a slow, deliberate step closer, his shadow swallowing Kiaan's own. "But don't forget — I don't lose. And I never forget. Especially not the ones who keep trying to cross me."
Behind them, footsteps quickened. The remaining men closed ranks, knives gleaming in the dim light.
Kiaan's eyes flicked to his back, then forward. The night had suddenly turned colder, the stakes darker than ever.
"So, what now, Malhotra?" Kiaan challenged, hands tightening into fists. "Are you going to kill me here? Or just enjoy watching me try?"
Reyaan laughed softly — a sound like gravel sliding down a cliff.
"Oh, agent, this isn't about killing." He leaned in, voice a whisper thick with menace. "It's about sending a message. And you… you're just the beginning."The air in the room was dense with silence — not empty, but waiting.
Reyaan Malhotra's voice cut through the tension like the flick of a blade.
"Handle the agents outside. Now."
He didn't shout. He didn't need to. The authority in his tone was absolute.
The men around him nodded instantly, moving out like shadows dispersing into the night. Not one of them dared question him. It wasn't about the drugs anymore. Reyaan didn't care if the entire stash was blown to hell. Not tonight.
Tonight, he wanted his time — with him.
As the last of the footsteps faded into the distance, the silence returned… but now it pulsed with something darker. Something more dangerous.
Kiaan stood frozen near the crate of drugs, his eyes locked on Reyaan.
Reyaan moved forward slowly, like a predator savoring the final moment before the pounce.
There was no fear in him — only a deep, stormy calm. A terrifying kind of power that didn't need to roar.
Because Reyaan was the storm.
"I don't kill what's already mine, Kiaan," he said coldly, his voice low and rough like crushed velvet dipped in gasoline. "Even if it bites back… especially when it bites back."
Kiaan's breath caught as Reyaan took another step. The space between them shrank — inch by inch — until there was barely enough air to breathe.
"You remember this, don't you?" Reyaan whispered, his voice curling into Kiaan's ear. "The first time… when our breath mingled… when I broke you from the inside out."
Kiaan's jaw tightened. His eyes, wild with defiance, didn't back down.
"You're sick. Twisted. You think possession equals love? You think fear is intimacy?"
A smirk curled across Reyaan's lips — slow, amused, and bone-deep.
"Still stubborn. Still beautiful when you're angry, agent." He tilted his head slightly, eyes burning. "But we both know you remember the feel of my hands. My weight. My name —"
He leaned closer, his lips nearly touching Kiaan's ear.
"— on your tongue."
Kiaan swallowed hard. He hated the way his heart betrayed him — hated the heat coiling in his stomach. He hated how Reyaan's presence still reached inside him like poison he never found the antidote for.
"Back off, Reyaan. You don't get to walk into my mission and act like this is some twisted reunion."
"Oh?" Reyaan said, arching a brow, his eyes gleaming. "But I thought you'd be happy to see me. After all… we're connected now. You still wear me, Kiaan. Right there—"
He grabbed Kiaan's wrist roughly, brushing his thumb over the scarred ink of his name on his skin.
"— a mark that will never fade."
Kiaan opened his mouth to throw something back — but Reyaan suddenly gasped and exclaimed:
"Oops! A spider."
Kiaan's entire body jerked, panic flaring in his eyes.
"Where?" he gasped, his voice suddenly trembling — real fear creeping in.
Without thinking — pure instinct — Kiaan lunged forward and clung to Reyaan, clutching him tightly like a child hiding from thunder. His face buried in Reyaan's chest, arms wrapped around him.
"Get it off me…! Where is it?!" he whispered in a panic.
Reyaan blinked — then slowly… a laugh bloomed in his throat.
Not cruel. Not mocking.
But delighted.
He tightened his arms around Kiaan gently, possessively, his lips brushing against Kiaan's temple.
"You're still scared of spiders, huh… kitten?" he murmured, stroking his back. "Even now. Even after everything."
Kiaan realized too late. He stiffened instantly, tried to pull away — but Reyaan didn't let him.
"This fear… this reaction… this is what I live for."
His eyes glinted.
"You're mine in more ways than you even understand."
The room remained cold, but Kiaan's skin was burning — with fury, with shame, with something darker he didn't want to name.
And Reyaan… was already tightening the web again.The dim lights of the abandoned back building flickered above them, casting distorted shadows on the cracked concrete walls. The drug crates stood still — untouched — like silent witnesses to a storm that wasn't just physical, but psychological.
Kiaan stood frozen in Reyaan's hold, his heart pounding — not from the mission anymore, not from danger — but from the memory that Reyaan's voice had just dragged out from the depths of his trembling core.
Reyaan leaned closer again, lowering his voice to a husky whisper that dripped like warm venom into Kiaan's ear.
"You're still trembling…"
He let his fingers run down Kiaan's back like they had done once before — the night Kiaan had buried in the deepest, most locked vault of his soul.
"You remember it, don't you?" Reyaan's smirk widened slightly, darker now, crueler — a man intoxicated by his own cruelty and desire.
"The night I placed that tiny spider on your bare chest… and your entire body convulsed like you were electrocuted. Your mind fought it — but your body—" he chuckled deeply, breath hot against Kiaan's skin,
"—your body gave in. Hard. Violent. You shattered in my arms. You passed out, do you remember that?"
Kiaan's fists clenched, his jaw tightening like stone, but he couldn't speak. He couldn't breathe. The images slammed back into him — raw, searing.
The cold floor. The sound of the spider's legs crawling on his skin. His scream. His body arching without control.
His fall — into darkness — into Reyaan's arms.
"Stop—" he finally managed, voice low and shaky.
"You're disgusting."
Reyaan's hand gripped Kiaan's wrist tighter, his thumb brushing again over the scar bearing his name — a symbol of control, and possession, and something far worse.
"No, I'm not." Reyaan's voice dropped lower, more intimate now, more lethal.
"I'm what you wanted. Isn't that right, Kiaan?"
His eyes bore into his like fire through ice.
"You always wanted to see me face to face again. You told yourself you'd confront me. Look me in the eye and tell me I'm a monster."
He stepped even closer, their bodies brushing, his breath mingling with Kiaan's, just like that night.
"Well… here I am. Face to face. Just like you wanted."
Kiaan's throat was dry, his breath shaky. Every nerve in his body wanted to pull away — but another part, buried and poisoned long ago, wanted to stay frozen — perhaps just to understand why this man still had this hold on him.
"You're wrong," Kiaan said finally, pushing against Reyaan's chest. "I never wanted to see you again. I wanted to forget you. I wanted to forget everything."
Reyaan's smile didn't fade. If anything, it turned darker — like a man enjoying a game he already knew the ending to.
"You only try to forget things that once made you feel something."
He cupped Kiaan's jaw with one hand — firm but not violent — and tilted his face slightly up.
"Hatred is a kind of love, Kiaan. And I'll take either… as long as you're still reacting. Still burning for me. Still trembling under my touch."
Kiaan slapped his hand away, breathing heavily.
"I'm not your toy, Reyaan."
Reyaan didn't flinch. Didn't waver. He simply looked at him — the kind of look that could burn a hole through steel.
"You're not. You're my addiction."
The silence that followed was deafening. The kind of silence that didn't come after words, but before a collapse — or an explosion.
And just then, a voice crackled through Kiaan's comm device in his ear.
> "Kiaan! Come in! The front's getting crowded—backup's needed—where the hell are you?!"
Kiaan's eyes widened — he'd forgotten the mission. Forgotten the world outside Reyaan's grip.
But Reyaan merely stepped back, letting him go, that wicked smirk still curling on his lips.
"Go ahead. Run back to your little team. Be the brave agent. Wear the badge. Pretend you're clean."
He turned, walking into the shadows slowly, voice echoing.
"But you and I both know... there's dirt on your soul that only I left. And that dirt… never washes off."
And with that — Reyaan vanished.
Kiaan stood alone, panting, clutching the scar on his wrist like it was burning.
The spider might've been gone.
But the web?
Still wrapped tightly around his throat.
The black van pulled up in front of the HQ just before dawn, the street lamps still casting long shadows across the silent road. The team stepped out — bloodied, bruised, but victorious. The crates of seized drugs were locked in the back, mission completed.
But Kiaan?
Kiaan was quiet.
Not the silence of calm — but of conflict. His eyes burned, not from smoke or effort, but from the ghost that had touched him again. The one man he swore never to see face-to-face.
As they stepped into the HQ briefing hall, Tara was already stretching her arms, Dev half-limping with a proud smirk.
"One hell of a night," Dev exhaled, throwing his jacket on the couch, wiping blood from his cheek.
"We cleaned them like they were sitting ducks. The whole trafficking chain in that district is gone."
Rehan placed the last file on the table, but his eyes flicked to Kiaan — narrowed, concerned.
"Kiaan, you were gone for fifteen minutes longer than planned. You okay?"
Kiaan didn't answer right away. He dropped into a chair, ran a hand through his messy hair, and looked at them all. His throat tightened — but he forced himself to speak.
"He was there."
Dev blinked. "He? Who?"
Kiaan's voice came out sharper now, firmer, the words cutting the air like glass.
"Reyaan Malhotra."
The room went still.
Like the world itself held its breath.
Tara's eyes widened.
"What do you mean he was there?!"
Dev stepped forward, tension flashing across his face.
"You're saying Reyaan Malhotra walked into the same building we were storming?"
Kiaan nodded, jaw tight. "He was waiting for me. Said he didn't care about the drugs. He just—" his voice faltered for a moment, "—wanted to talk to me. Or rather, haunt me again."
Rehan stiffened. "And you let him?"
"I didn't 'let' him do anything." Kiaan's voice snapped, but then he sighed, eyes lowering. "He dismissed his men. Told them not to interfere. It was like he planned this entire encounter — just to remind me that I'm still… his."
A heavy silence settled in.
Tara finally spoke, her voice low, laced with worry.
"What did he say?"
Kiaan leaned forward, elbows on his knees, rubbing his hands together like trying to scrub off invisible stains.
"He said… I trembled. That I still react to him. That I only try to forget him because he once made me feel something."
He swallowed. "He talked about that night."
The others didn't speak — they didn't need to. They all knew what night he meant. The incident Kiaan had refused to file fully. The night Reyaan broke him once — body and mind.
Dev sat down, for once not smirking. "You okay, man?"
Kiaan exhaled, long and shaky.
"I told him I wasn't his. That I've moved on. That I'm not some broken thing he can play with again."
He looked up, eyes hard now.
"But he just smiled. Said I'm not his toy… I'm his addiction."
Rehan stepped forward, crossing his arms.
"Then it's time we stop treating this like a ghost story and start hunting the bastard. He's not untouchable. Not anymore."
Kiaan stood, determination burning beneath his pain.
"No more running. If Reyaan wants a face-to-face…"
He pulled off his gloves, tossing them aside with venom.
"Then let's give him war."
Tara nodded.
"Let's pull every file. Every route he uses. Start connecting his trafficking routes to his inner circle. If he's in England, then we're not backing down."
Rehan's phone buzzed just then — a message.
From Vihaan Roy.
> "I heard your team did well. But tell Kiaan… Reyaan doesn't visit people unless he's ready to destroy them again."
Rehan looked up from the phone, eyes locking with Kiaan's.
The game was just getting bloodier.
And the devil had come back with a smile.