Blood, Love & Revenge
540 Words
Jaipur.
The city hadn’t changed.
But Parth had.
The car stopped outside the Dobreal house.
Same gate.
Same walls.
Same memories—
but now…
they carried blood.
—
The door opened.
“Parth…”
His mother stood there.
Frozen.
And then—
thappad.
The sound echoed.
Sharp.
Painful.
“Ab yaad aaya tujhe ghar?” she cried, her voice breaking.
“Parth… itne saal… ek baar bhi nahi aaya tu…”
She hit his chest again—
weakly.
Not in anger.
In pain.
“Jab tere papa…” her voice trembled violently.
“…jab unhe goli lagi thi…”
Silence.
Heavy.
Crushing.
“Tu wahan nahi tha…”
Tears streamed down her face.
“Unhone tujhe bahut yaad kiya…”
Parth didn’t move.
Didn’t react.
But inside—
everything shattered again.
His jaw tightened.
His fists clenched.
Because she was right.
He wasn’t there.
—
His mother collapsed against him, crying.
“Unhone tujhe bachane ki koshish ki… Parth…”
His breath stopped.
“What…?”
Her words broke.
“Wo tumhe bachate hue gaye…”
Everything went silent.
Because suddenly—
this wasn’t just loss.
This was guilt.
This was unfinished pain.
—
Rohit stepped forward slowly.
“Bhai… us din…”
A pause.
“Wo log…”
He didn’t say the name.
He didn’t need to.
Both of them knew.
Dsena family.
Rivalry.
War.
—
Parth’s eyes slowly shifted—
to the photo.
Mr. Dobreal.
Smiling.
Unaware.
Gone.
He walked toward it.
Each step heavier.
Slower.
Like he was carrying five years of pain with him.
He stood in front of it.
His voice low.
Cold.
“I lost two people…”
A pause.
“One… you.”
His fingers tightened.
“And the other…”
His eyes darkened.
“…Ivara.”
Rohit froze.
Because now—
this wasn’t grief.
This was something dangerous.
“She chose them,” Parth said quietly.
“She chose that family…”
A bitter smile.
“…over me.”
His eyes lifted slightly.
“And now…”
His voice hardened.
“…she doesn’t even remember.”
Silence.
Heavy.
Explosive.
—
“Bhai…” Rohit tried.
“She didn’t know everything—”
“I know what she did.”
Parth cut him off.
His tone sharp now.
“She left.”
A pause.
“And after that…”
His voice dropped.
“…everything ended.”
—
Later that night—
Parth stood alone in his room.
The same room.
But nothing felt the same.
He opened a drawer.
A small box.
Inside—
a bracelet.
Ivara’s.
His fingers trembled slightly.
For a second—
his eyes softened.
“…you loved me,” he whispered.
“And then you left.”
A pause.
“And now…”
His jaw tightened.
“…you don’t even remember what you destroyed.”
Silence.
And then—
his expression changed completely.
Cold.
Controlled.
Dangerous.
“This time…”
He closed the box slowly.
“…you will remember.”
—
Across the city—
Ivara sat unaware.
Holding onto a name—
Parth.
Trying to remember him.
While the same person—
was preparing to make sure she never forgets again.
—
And this time—
their story wasn’t just about love.
It was about blood.
And revenge.
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