Falling Destiny

Episode 48 – “Shackles of Silence”

(Neha’s POV)

I lay crumpled in the corner of the rusty cage, my body curled up in the filth and straw meant for animals. My skin burned where the belt had kissed it last night, leaving welts that throbbed with every breath I took. The cold metal bars pressed against my back as I tried to find even the slightest comfort, but pain had replaced every inch of my flesh. Sleep had come and gone in flickers—haunted, fragmented, shallow. My mind wouldn’t let me rest. It replayed the scene of Veer’s wrath like a broken film reel.

Then came the sun.

Its cruel rays sliced through the wooden slits of the horse shelter, burning into my eyes and forcing them open. The ache in my ribs and spine made it almost impossible to move. I whimpered softly, like a wounded animal, and that’s when I heard it—the sound of boots crunching hay and gravel.

Footsteps.

I flinched, heart lurching in dread. Then I saw him.

Veer.

Impeccably dressed in a black tuxedo, a stark contrast to the bloody, bruised mess I had become. His sharp features unreadable, but his eyes glinted with the same cold, predatory rage that never left them anymore.

Without a word, he reached down and yanked me from the cage. My knees scraped against the rough ground as I stumbled forward, unable to hold back the hiss of pain escaping my lips.

“Stand up,” he said coldly. I couldn’t.

So he dragged me.

I could barely register what was happening until another man entered the shelter, holding something in his hand.

Chains. A collar. A dog leash.

Panic surged through my already failing strength. I twisted, flailed, summoned every ounce of strength I didn’t have left and tried to run. But Veer caught me easily. His fist gripped my hair, and with a sickening force, he slammed me to the ground again.

“No!” I cried, barely a whisper, “Please... please don’t—”

He ignored me, buckling the cold leather collar around my neck, the metal biting into my skin. Chains followed—tight around my wrists. I sobbed harder, my throat sore, my pride shattered into dust.

A chair was brought in. Wooden. Heavy. He forced me onto it and bound me to it like a prisoner. I sat trembling, my heartbeat loud in my ears, as he opened a black box near his feet. Inside were cables. Small metal rods. A handheld device with wires I didn’t understand. My breath caught.

“W-what is that?” My voice cracked.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he reached forward and slapped me hard. My head jerked to the side, and my cheek burned.

“You want to lie?” he growled. “You thought I wouldn’t find out?”

He leaned in, his voice low and venomous. “Tell me everything about him.”

“Him?” I looked at him, lost.

“Aarav Malhotra.”

My mind searched for the name, but it returned blank.

“I don’t know him,” I whispered.

He didn’t believe me.

The first jolt of electricity made my entire body spasm. Pain. Blinding, white-hot, soul-shattering pain.

I screamed. Begged. Promised. Pleaded. But nothing softened the look in his eyes.

Again. Again. And again.

The hours passed like years. He asked questions I didn’t understand—things about plans, about betrayal, about being a spy. My throat dried out from screaming, my body twitching every time the current surged through it.

Finally, he stopped.

“I’m thirsty…” I whispered, barely able to lift my head.

He walked out of my view. I heard the trickle of water. Relief fluttered weakly inside me.

But then—splash.

He threw the water at my face. It dripped off my hair and lashes, mingling with the tears I couldn’t stop.

“You don’t get mercy here,” he said simply. “Only justice.”

He turned and walked away.

I sat there in silence, breath ragged, head hanging low. The air in the dungeon was suffocating. It reeked of blood, dirt, and the scent of betrayal I still couldn’t understand.

And then… she came.

Mary.

She slipped inside like a ghost. Her eyes were already red when she reached me. She knelt before me, holding a tiny piece of bread and a flask of water.

“Oh, child…” her voice cracked.

She fed me slowly, breaking the bread into pieces and gently placing them against my lips. I swallowed like it was my first meal in years.

“Please,” I croaked. “Please take these chains off. I—I didn’t do anything…”

Mary looked at me, her face lined with sorrow. But before she could answer, we heard footsteps again—louder, heavier.

She vanished.

Just like that, gone into the shadows.

And then he came.

Veer.

He didn’t say anything this time. He simply unlocked me from the chair, dragged me across the stone floor, and shoved me back into the cage. But now, he didn’t stop there.

He chained me inside. Locked the collar to the cage bars.

Like I was some beast.

And then he walked away.

As I lay curled on the hay, shaking and crying, my heart whispered the same question again and again:

Why me? What did I do to deserve this?

But the silence of the dungeon gave me no answer.

Only my own broken breath.

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(Veer's POV)

I stood in the dungeon corridor, the dim, flickering light illuminating her trembling form inside that cage. Her face was pale, streaked with dried blood and sweat. She hadn’t eaten properly in days. Her lips cracked. Her wrists bruised from the cold iron chains that locked her in place.

But her silence screamed louder than any confession.

I had tried everything. I interrogated her with my own hands—hours of relentless punishment. The belt. The shocks. The psychological torment. I carved fear into her bones. Yet even through the pain, not a single word about him. No tears for a name. No tremble that suggested guilt.

Was she playing me?

Or… was she truly clueless?

I didn’t know. And that unsettled me.

The silence was broken when my phone buzzed in my pocket.

Rohit.

I answered with a clipped tone, “Speak.”

“Veer, bad news,” he said immediately. “While you’ve been… busy, Kayish made another move. He’s trying to interfere in the Dubai port deals—again.”

I stilled.

Of course he was.

The bastard had been circling our empire like a vulture, waiting for the right moment to dig in his claws. Kayish Sinha wasn’t just an enemy—he was a parasite. One that had evaded my grip for far too long.

“I tried sending a mole last week,” I muttered, half to myself, “but he sniffed her out before she could even plant a wire.”

I remembered what happened to her.

Her body—delivered back to us in a bag. Her face unrecognizable.

He always knew. Every step we made. Every move we tried. Somehow, he was one step ahead.

And that’s what made him dangerous.

That’s what made him a priority.

But I had no leverage—no way in.

Until now.

My eyes drifted back to her.

Chained. Broken. But not destroyed.

And in that instant, something inside me shifted. The rage burned into calculation. I stopped seeing her as a traitor… and started seeing her as a weapon.

If pain couldn’t make her talk, then maybe it could mold her. Shape her. Send her into the lion’s den as something more than just a victim.

A tool. A trap. A perfect pawn.

And Kayish… he had one weakness—his appetite for beautiful women. He enjoyed control. Dominance. Power.

Neha would be exactly what he’d want—Beautiful face.

And that’s how we’d bring him down.

I turned to the guard standing at the end of the hall. “Bring her to the mansion. Now.”

He blinked, surprised. “Sir, she—she’s in no state—”

“Now.”

My voice sliced through the air, and he obeyed.

She’d be cleaned up. Not healed—just enough to survive. Enough to look the part. I’d train her myself. I would bend her every instinct until obedience came before thought. She’d learn to lie. To play the perfect role.

She wouldn’t know why she was being sent. I wouldn’t trust her with the truth.

Because if she dared to betray me—even once—

If she uttered my name in his office…

I would kill her with my own hands.

My mind raced ahead.

I’d install voice transmission tech—disguised inside earrings or a necklace. She’d be tracked every moment. My men would be stationed near the office, watching.

But she would be alone in the cage with the devil.

And if she slipped…

She wouldn't just lose her life.

She’d take the whole damn plan down with her.