Prey To The Biker's Obsession

Chapter 2

Aditya Salgaonkar's Point Of View.

I was sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chair of the hospital emergency room, for about an hour. After what felt like eternity, my name was called finally, and I followed the nurse down the narrow hallway to the examination room. The doctor, who was a middle aged man with a pair of tired eyes with the glasses, greeted me with a nod and gestured for me to take a seat at the examination table.

"So, what seems to be the problem?" He asked, while his tone was friendly but professional.

I winced as I touched the gash across my cheek, the result of a violent encounter with the bullies at the prison cell last night. "I slipped into my bathroom." I lied as I tried to downplay the severity of the situation.

The doctor raised an eyebrow but did not press further. Instead, he pulled on a pair of latex gloves and began to clean the wound with antiseptic solution. I gritted my teeth against the sting and tried to focus on anything but the pain.

Once the wound was clean, the doctor carefully examined it while his brow could be seen furrowing in concentration. "Well, looks like you are going to need a few stitches," he remarked while already reaching for a suture kit.

As he worked, we engaged in idle small talk, discussing everything from the weather to the latest sports scores. It was a welcome distraction from the uncomfortable situation, and I found myself relaxing despite the throbbing pain in my cheek.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity again, the doctor finished stitching up the wound and applied a bandage to protect it. He handed me a prescription for pain medication and gave me a stern warning to take it easy for the next few days.

"Doctor, pain does not bother me anymore," I said with a cold voice. "We are practically old friends by now."

The doctor chuckled and shook his head as he spoke, "You seemed to be the one tough cookie." I thanked him and made my way out of the hospital.

The bright hospital lights stung my eyes the second I stepped out of the emergency room.

The hallway was clean, too clean - white floors reflecting the harsh tube lights above, walls lined with silent posters about mental health and flu shots. The air reeked of antiseptic and cheap sanitizer, the kind that burns your nose if you breathe too deep. The place was cold, like it was frozen in time.

A bandage was wrapped tightly around my right hand as well as the small stitches on my cheeks. My jaw was sore while there was dried blood on my shirt. The doctor had told me to rest, said something about a mild concussion. I had nodded, but I was not really listening. I needed silence.

I moved slowly down the hallway, passing a couple of nurses and a man half asleep on a bench holding his crying kid.

The kind of chaos that lived quietly in hospitals - pain tucked behind curtains, while grief whispered between beeps and then, I saw a familiar face.

Sitting a few benches away, near the entrance to another ward, was a woman I never thought I would see again — at least not like this. Ishika Sethi.

Her head was slightly lowered, while her hair was falling around her face in messy waves. One of the nurses was dabbing something gently on her cheek, muttering quietly. I could not hear the words but I could see the damage.

There was a bruise just below her eye, and swelling near her cheekbone. Someone had punched her. Hard.

Her lower lip was split at one corner. Blood had dried on her chin, but she did not flinch when the nurse touched her. She sat still, like stone. I did not move for a moment. I could not help but just stared at her.

So this was what fate looked like — when it circled back and slammed into you out of nowhere.

I walked toward her in a slow motion. My boots tapped softly against the floor, but she did not look up. Her hand rested limply in her lap, while fingers were twitching every now and then like she was holding in the pain. The closer I got, the tighter something twisted in my chest.

I should have kept walking, should have ignored her but I didn't. I stopped a few steps away, folded my arms, and tilted my head slightly.

A smirk tugged at the corner of my lips — bitterness, sarcasm, and maybe something more colder underneath.

"Well, well," I said quietly, while my voice was sharp like a blade. "Look who’s here — the mighty one herself."

She froze. Her shoulders tensed while her head turned in a slow motion, and her eyes met mine. Those eyes — wide, stunned, confused for half a second, then guarded. The moment they met mine, it was like someone opened an old wound neither of us were ready to touch.

I studied her face. The bruise was spreading now, turning darker around the edges. She looked smaller than I remembered but she was still Ishika Sethi - the wife/lover of Anay Sethi.

That name alone made my fists tighten. Anay f*****g Sethi.

The man who smiled with polished teeth and a thousand lies behind his eyes. My rival - the mastermind of my downfall.

The bastard who walked into my world wearing a suit and came out of it wearing my crown. He had taken everything - my business, my people, my power. He had not just competed with me. He stole from me, - strategically while smiling the entire damn time and she had stood beside him and it was enough to make me hate her but now, seeing her like this — bruised, silent, bleeding — something felt off.

This was not the same woman who used to walk like she owned the world, who spoke like she knew better than everyone else.

She looked broken and that scared me more than I cared to admit.

I took a slow breath and ran my tongue over the cut inside my cheek. The rage I felt for Anay Sethi simmered just below my skin. That man had ruined me, torn my life to shreds, and fed lies to the world about who I was. He painted me as a monster and everyone believed him but now his wife apparently sat alone in this hospital hallway with a busted face and no one beside her.

Interesting, but more than anything, it felt like fate had finally handed me a c***k in the wall - a way back to everything he stole. I had been waiting for a chance to burn Anay Sethi from the inside out and now, I had it.

The nurse looked between us and mumbled something about getting stitches ready. Then she stood up and walked off, leaving us alone. The silence between us was thick. Too thick, to be precise.

“Funny, isn’t it?” I muttered, enough for her to hear. “I come out of hell just to find you sitting outside its door.”

Her breath caught in her throat. Recognition flickered across her bruised face, followed by something far more telling — fear.

I saw it settle into her expression. Her spine stiffened, while her lips parted slightly, and her pupils locked onto mine like a cornered animal who was not sure whether to run or cry.

Her lips quivered as she whispered, “Aditya" She swallowed hard. Her voice came again, barely above a whisper - broken, and pleading. “I ... I am sorry. Please don’t hurt me."

Her hands clutched the edge of the bench like it was her shield. Her shoulders curled in, protective, like she was expecting a blow. Not from a stranger — but from me.

For a moment, I just stared at her. Letting her drown in her own panic. The bruises on her face made more sense now but I was not the one who put them there and yet… she thought I would.

That said more than words ever could. I let the silence hang between us like a noose. After a moment, I took one small step closer, while my voice was low and cold, “If I wanted to hurt you, Ishika" I said in a slow voice, “…you would not be sitting here asking me not to.”

Her eyes welled up instantly, but she blinked them away, still frozen and somewhere in the back of my mind, I wondered - What the hell had she gotten herself into?

As I looked at her swollen face again and then at the fading blood on my own hands, something clicked in my mind.

The game had not ended when I went behind bars. It had just gone quiet — waiting for the perfect moment to start again and this time… I would play it on my terms.

As for Ishika Sethi - if fate had delivered her to me like this, I would be a fool not to use her. She had once been the quiet reason for my downfall — and now, she would be the beautiful, unsuspecting weapon for Anay f*****g Sethi.