Chapter 27 Reality Behind Love
Vihan stretches lazily, letting out a soft sigh as he wakes up. His muscular arms move above his head, his breath calm, but his mind restless. His eyes drift toward the wall, where an old photograph hangs, a moment frozen in time, now nothing but a painful memory.
Suddenly, BANGGGGG!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The door slams open violently. Rohit storms into the room, his eyes blazing with fury, his breath ragged like a storm barely held back.
“You did it you killed Samar!” Rohit shouts, his voice sharp, soaked with rage and betrayal.
Vihan stands still for a second, locking eyes with Rohit cold, piercing calm. No fear. No shame. Only steel-hard silence.
Slowly, he rises from the bed, his tall frame stiff with tension. He steps toward Rohit, jaw clenched and in the very next moment, Vihan punches him hard across the face.
“Yes! I killed him!” Vihan roars, his voice burning with fire and torment. “Because he deserved it. He took everything from me, I lived every day with that pain!”
Rohit stumbles back, clutching his jaw. Blood spills from the corner of his mouth, but his eyes burn with something stronger the truth. He steadies himself and glares at Vihan.
“You killed Samar for revenge.” Rohit says slowly. “But the person you wanted to avenge the one you believed was dead”
He pauses, his words slicing deep. “She’s alive, Vihan. She’s alive… and she’s in Australia. Living. Breathing. Right now. If you don’t believe me go and find out yourself.”
Vihan freezes. His entire body goes rigid. His eyes widen in disbelief, as if the ground beneath him has vanished.
“What? What nonsense are you talking about?!” he snaps. “She’s dead I saw her I mourned her, I..”
His voice cracks, drowning in confusion and grief. Rohit steps closer, his voice deadly calm. “I’m not lying. She’s alive, Vihan. While you were drowning in rage, she moved on. You killed an innocent man for nothing. For a lie you believed.”
Silence crashes into the room. Vihan’s breathing turns shallow, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He stumbles back, hands gripping his head as his world spins out of control.
“No… no, you’re lying!” he shouts desperately. “You’re trying to break me! You want to see me fall! This can’t be real… it CAN’T be!”
His hands clutch his head harder, as if trying to shut out the truth now echoing through him like a curse. His knees tremble. His heart races.
Rohit doesn’t flinch. “The blood on your hands means nothing now, Vihan. You killed an innocent man, believing you were right. But you were blinded. And now you have to live with it.”
Tears gather in Vihan’s eyes tears of rage, guilt, a soul cracking under unbearable truth. His gaze shifts back to the photograph on the wall the same face he thought he’d lost forever.
“No…” he breathes.
“This isn’t over. I’ll find her. I’ll know the truth.”
His voice turns cold, dangerous. “And Rohit if you’re lying you won’t escape either.”
Rohit stands still, his face bloodied from the punch, but his eyes glow with bitter satisfaction.
“The truth will destroy you, Vihan” he mutters.
Then, with one sharp move, Rohit throws a final punch straight into Vihan’s face merciless. Vihan’s head jerks to the side, but he doesn’t fall. He stands rooted, forcing himself to stay upright.
Without another word, Rohit storms out, slamming the door behind him. His footsteps echo down the corridor, fading leaving behind a silence filled with fire.
Vihan remains standing, his hand pressed to his face, breathing hard. But the real pain isn’t from the punch it’s from the explosion ripping through his chest.
“No…” he whispers, voice breaking.
“This is a lie, she can’t be alive, she CAN’T.”
Suddenly, he springs into action, grabbing his laptop and dialing a number with trembling hands. His voice is cold, but beneath it, a volcano is ready to erupt.
“James, I need information. Now. Find someone named Drishti, she’s in Australia. I want every single detail. Now!”
The agent on the other end pauses for a few seconds, then responds carefully, “Sir… there’s only one Drishti Khanna here. She’s the wife of Australia’s richest businessman Vardan Khanna.”
Everything inside Vihan freezes. His eyes widen in disbelief. His breath catches in his throat. “What?! No. No, you’re mistaken. That’s not her… it can’t be her,” he snaps. “Send me her picture. Now!”
Without waiting for a reply, Vihan ends the call. His hands rake through his hair in restless chaos as he begins pacing the room like a madman, each step heavier than the last. “She can’t be alive… she can’t belong to someone else”
His heartbeat pounds wildly in his ears when, suddenly, his phone vibrates. He stops dead in his tracks, staring at the screen. A message. “Photo attached.”
His hands shake as he opens it. And then Shock. Because It’s Drishti. Her face. Her smile. Her eyes. Exactly the same as the photo he keeps on his bedside table the same one that once hangs above Samar’s bed.
His fingers go numb. The phone slips from his grasp. Thud!!!!!!!!!!!!
It hits the ground. And Vihan collapses to the floor with it, stunned, shattered, breathing like a man suffocating.
He sits there, eyes empty, staring at nothing. Tears stream down his face tears of pain, betrayal, and unbearable guilt.
“How… how is this possible?” he whispers brokenly.
“I mourned her. I lost everything for her and she she’s alive someone else’s wife…?”
He clutches his head, trying to shut out the image burned into his soul. The room spins, but he doesn’t care. All he can hear is Rohit’s voice echoing inside him.
“I’ve lost everything” He whispers it like a man who no longer belongs to this world.
Vihan remains seated on the floor, eyes hollow, face drenched in tears. His breathing is shallow, fractured, as if every breath carries the weight of a thousand regrets.
“Why… why did I do this? Why?!” he cries, his voice choking with agony, echoing off the empty walls like a curse.
Suddenly, something snaps inside him. Rage mixed with helplessness, surges through his veins. He leaps to his feet, wild, unhinged.
“I’ll destroy everything EVERYTHING!!” he roars, like a man possessed.
His tears the room apart. He flips the table, smashes the chair, rips books and clothes from the shelves and hurls them across the room. The vase shatters. His laptop slams into the wall with a loud bang. He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t care. Nothing matters anymore.
In the middle of the chaos, something slips out of a drawer and lands softly on the floor. A photo. Vihan freezes. His breath catches as he bends down slowly and picks it up with trembling fingers.
It’s a picture of him and Samar from years ago. Samar, barely fifteen, smiles with pure innocence.
Vihan, seventeen, stands beside him, an arm slung around Samar’s shoulders. Both are laughing. Alive. Untouched. Brothers.
Vihan stares at the photo, eyes trembling, lips shaking. Slowly, he clutches it to his chest, pressing it hard against his heart as if he can go back in time to a moment before blood, before lies, before death. Before everything shattered.