Later that night, Ak found himself at Tia's small apartment. The city outside was quiet, but inside, tension hummed like a live wire. In his hand was a simple sandwich, wrapped carefully in paper. Nothing luxurious, nothing grand—just the humble snack she had always loved in their high school canteen.
He stepped inside quietly, almost hesitantly. "This… is for you," he said, placing the sandwich on the table. His voice was low, careful, but carried a weight of unspoken feelings.
Tia's gaze lifted, sharp and wary. Her dark eyes glinted with hurt and defiance. "We're done," she said finally, her voice steady but cold. "My feelings for you… they died the moment you held hands with Snira."
The words struck him like ice. Guilt and regret churned inside him, tightening his chest. He had known she might still harbor feelings for him, yet seeing her cold dismissal cut deeper than any blade.
"Why… why did you cover for me last night?" he asked quietly, struggling to keep his voice calm.
Tia's eyes narrowed, her lips pressed into a hard line. Then, she shot back, sharp and fierce: "What? So I should have let you die in front of my eyes?"
Ak's throat tightened. He wanted to apologize, to untangle the mess of past mistakes and present chaos—but he couldn't. He left the sandwich where he had placed it, a silent offering, a bridge between them.
"I'll make you mine," he said softly, almost to himself, voice low and firm, heavy with obsession. Then he corrected himself, almost thinking aloud: "No… maybe I'll make myself officially yours, one day."
And without another word, he turned, leaving Tia alone with the sandwich and his promise, the door clicking shut behind him.
As soon as he stepped outside, Ak felt a surge of need to know—to see if she had eaten it, if she even cared. He hesitated, then made a call.
"Ravi," he said into the phone, "go to Tia's apartment. You'll find my spare key under the mat. Keep it discreet. I just want to… observe."
Ravi, his loyal driver, understood immediately. Within minutes, he was outside Tia's building. Quiet as a shadow, he slipped in, used the key, and entered the apartment.
Tia was there, sitting at her small kitchen table. Her dark hair fell softly around her shoulders, eyes focused on the humble sandwich. She picked it up, unwrapped it, and took a tentative bite. Her expression softened for a fraction of a second—nostalgia, comfort, and the faintest trace of longing flickering across her face.
Ravi stayed in the shadows, unseen, and quietly reported back to Ak. "She's eating it, sir. The sandwich… the one you brought."
Ak's hand tightened around the phone, a slow, dangerous smile curling at his lips. The sight of her eating something he had made—the connection, the memory, the vulnerability—stoked something deep inside him. Possessiveness, longing, and that familiar thrill of obsession.
"She's mine," he muttered under his breath, almost more to himself than to Ravi. "Soon, she'll understand… soon, she'll have no choice but to belong to me."
Outside, the city slept. Inside Tia's apartment, she finished the last bite, oblivious to the storm brewing just beyond her door. Ak's mind, however, was already racing ahead, plotting, calculating, obsessing. The promise he had whispered in her presence—the one she had yet to truly believe—burned like a brand across his chest.
And for the first time in years, Ak felt the thrill of possibility: desire, revenge, love, obsession—all tangled into one dangerous, intoxicating plan.
Back at the mafia headquarters, Wori—Snira's fiercely loyal friend—was walking the streets when she spotted Ak's car parked outside Tia's building. Her sharp instincts told her something wasn't right. She called Snira immediately.
"Snira… I just saw Ak," Wori whispered into the phone, urgency in her voice. "He's at Tia's apartment. He… he went inside."
Snira's eyes widened, her lips pressing into a thin, dangerous line. Her heartbeat spiked, a mixture of jealousy, obsession, and rage twisting inside her. Ak, the man she had once claimed as her own, was at the apartment of another woman—another girl who had once been just a fleeting memory of high school. And now… he was bringing her food.
"Did anyone see him?" Snira demanded, her voice low, dangerous, but trembling with a possessive fury.
"No, he went in alone. Quietly. She's probably inside… eating something he brought," Wori replied.
Snira's fingers tightened around the phone. Her mind raced—plots, schemes, confrontation. She could not let this pass. Not Tia. Not now. Not ever. The thought of Ak giving his attention, his care, his obsession, to someone else burned hotter than any anger she had felt in years.
She pressed her lips together, every muscle in her body coiled for action. Ak had gone to Tia… and now she would make sure he knew exactly where his loyalties—and his desires—truly belonged.
Outside, the city slept. Inside Tia's apartment, she finished the last bite, oblivious to the storm brewing just beyond her door. Snira's obsession, Wori's loyalty, and Ak's dangerous attention were all circling her like predators. And somewhere in the night, all three hearts—Tia's cautious bravery, Ak's consuming obsession, and Snira's unrelenting possessiveness—were set on a collision course.