The King's Contracted Bride

Narrator's POV

The night is dense, so dense, it feels suffocating to even breathe.

The sky is pitch black as if the moon has turned its back on the earth tonight. No stars, no light, just a heavy darkness that seems to swallow everything whole.

The cold wind howls fiercely, each gust like a knock from some unseen fear.

Even the stones tremble, and the rustling leaves whisper that a stormy night has arrived.

Amidst that wind, darkness, and eerie silence, in a far, fearsome corner of a haunted cliff, some shadows move.

There he is, the one whose name is enough to silence the bravest of men. Surrounded by his armed guards, wearing black sunglasses, a long black coat, and an aura that screams death.

He is a cruel 26 - year - old man. His name is Samar Rajput, but the world knows him as SR .

Behind those dark shades hide eyes so sharp and hazel green, even in this pitch-black night, they glimmer with a chilling glow.

His V-shaped body is the perfect blend of raw power and magnetic charm. From every angle, he looks like a royal beast, a kind of beauty that doesn’t warm your heart but freezes your soul.

A sharp nose, fair skin, and gently flowing hair in the cold breeze make his face devilishly handsome, a man who looks like sin wrapped in elegance.

Lying before him on the ground is a man soaked in blood, gasping for his last breath. But the Black King? He wears no emotion. No regret. No pity.

Just a cold, lifeless smirk, as if death is his habit and fear, his only language.

The wind grows even stronger now. The silence of the ground is broken only by the painful groans of the man lying in a pool of blood before him.

The Black King slowly glances at the man through his dark shades. There is no anger in his eyes, only a cold stare so sharp, even death itself would bow before it.

And then, for the first time, he speaks. His voice is deep and heavy, echoing like thunder through the mountains. It is a voice that doesn’t just instill fear but makes hearts stop beating.

He says, "How dare you betray me? Now pay the price for it."

With that, he calmly pulls out his black gun. No hesitation, just a cold, precise shot.

DHAAMM!!!

A loud gunshot echoes through the mountains and everything ends in a single moment.

The man who was fighting to stay alive lies still now, his eyes wide open, but no longer afraid, because death has already embraced him.

The Black King doesn’t even spare him another glance, as if he’s just corrected a worthless mistake.

He calmly slides the gun back into his coat, turns around without a word, and walks into the shadows toward his sleek, long black BMW.

He gets into the front car, and his bodyguards sit in the following vehicles. The man's lifeless body is left behind in the dark, cold night as the convoy of cars silently drives away, disappearing into the blackness, just as the man's existence has faded.

A few moments later, a sleek black car slowly comes to a halt in front of Rajput Villa.

As soon as one looks out of the window, it feels like staring into another world, a world of royalty, silence, and unmatched beauty.

The sleek black car slowly makes its way through the winding roads and comes to a halt. In front stands a beautiful house no, more like a hidden palace built elegantly on the side of a mountain. From afar, it looks like a luxurious retreat, but only Samar knows what truly lies inside.

The car door opens.

SR steps out dressed in all black, his face calm but unreadable. There is a strange intensity in his eyes, and his bodyguards follow silently behind him, each of them alert and armed.

As SR approaches the house, a hidden biometric scanner detects his presence. A soft beep echoes, and the door slides open smoothly.

Inside, the house is magnificent, modern, and luxurious, with large glass walls giving a view of the dark mountains. But beneath that beauty is something far more sinister.

A staircase leads underground.

As SR descends, the atmosphere changes. The temperature drops, and a chilling silence takes over. The basement isn’t ordinary. It’s a secret prison.

Lined with heavy iron-bar cells, the underground space holds several people. Some are crying, others screaming, and a few are simply sitting silently in fear and exhaustion.

SR walks ahead slowly, his eyes scanning each cell without emotion. Behind him, his bodyguards begin their work, mercilessly torturing the prisoners.

One man is beaten with iron rods, another is doused with freezing water. Screams fill the air, but SR doesn’t flinch. He watches it all with a cold calmness, like a king observing justice being served.

He is not an ordinary man; he is power in human form, and behind the stunning mountain mansion lies a terrifying world ruled by Samar.

SR continues walking forward, slowly, but with a weight that makes the air around him feel heavier with each step, as if death itself follows in his shadow.

He stops in front of one of the cells and gives a cold signal. The bodyguards immediately unlock the cell and drag the prisoner out by his hair, throwing him to the cold floor.

The man trembles, fear etched deeply into his face. SR looks at him, not with anger, not with pity, but with a coldness so chilling it could freeze one's soul.

"I don’t offer forgiveness for mistakes," SR says quietly, his voice low and icy.

Without warning, SR grabs the man by the throat with such force that the man gasps, choking for breath.

The bodyguards step back, as if they know that when SR acts himself it means the devil has arrived.

He slams the man to the ground. Blood begins to stain his shirt. SR leans closer to his ear and whispers, "I don’t deliver justice… I deliver punishment. The kind of punishment you won’t forget even after death."

Then he pulls out a remote from his pocket and presses a button. A heavy steel door opens on the other side of the basement.

Inside is a horrifying chamber filled with glowing hot coils, sharp blades, and terrifying torture devices. It isn’t just a prison. It is Samar’s world of pain.

And SR? He doesn’t look human anymore. There is fire in his eyes, but his face remains terrifyingly calm.

SR casts one final look at the torture chamber before turning silently toward the stairs.

His bodyguards follow, their faces now even more expressionless, As SR steps outside into the cold mountain air, a light breeze rustles the edge of his coat.

Suddenly, amidst the cold, still air and the lingering silence, a lion emerges from the shadows.