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Guys I still don't understand why you are not liking after reading. The views and engage you are giving on instagram is high but when it comes to liking and commenting on wattpad you are not doing it.

Trust me this is one of the best short stories that you ever read of mine so please do like and comment so that I can get motivation to give back to back updates.

Author's pov

Aryan had canceled his plans to leave, realizing he started to feel things he never felt before. He decided to stay in the same hotel where Inaya was staying for her tournament.

Inaya, completely focused on her game, didn't pay any attention to him. She was determined, her team holding the top spot, and her mind is on strategies, scores, and victories. Aryan, however, found joy in simply being around her.

He spent his days observing her from a distance sometimes sitting in the hotel café with a coffee, pretending to scroll through his phone, stealing glances at her as she played with intense focus. Other times, he'd linger in the hotel lounge, watching her walk past without even noticing him. But Aryan didn't mind. He enjoyed these small, moments, as if he was playing his own gamenone where just being near her felt like winning.

For Inaya, it was just another tournament. For Aryan, it was the start of something more.

Aryan came back to the hotel late in the evening after finishing some important work. He walked through the quiet hallway, unlocked his room, and closed the door behind him. The moment he was alone, he let out a deep breath.

He took off his coat and tossed it on the chair. Underneath, his white shirt was no longer white it was covered in blood. But Aryan didn't flinch. This wasn't new to him. He had killed people before, people who got in the way of his work. Just yesterday, an investor had spoken badly about his company. Today, Aryan made sure that investor would never speak again. This was normal for him.

But something felt different tonight.

Aryan stood in front of the mirror, staring at his reflection. The blood didn't bother him. It never had. But the look in his own eyes did. There was something there something soft, something scared. And it wasn't because of what he'd done.

It was because of Inaya.

She didn't know who he really was. She didn't know about the blood on his hands. She was the only thing in his life that felt pure, untouched by his darkness. And that scared him more than anything else ever had.

He ripped the bloody shirt off, feeling like it was too heavy to wear. Then he splashed cold water on his face, gripping the sink tightly as he tried to calm himself down.

Tonight, he had decided to talk to her. To tell her how he felt. Not about the blood or the killings that wasn't important right now. What mattered was the way she made him feel. She made him feel things he didn't even know he was capable of feeling.

For the first time in his life, Aryan wasn't scared of losing control.

He was scared of losing her, even though she was never his to begin with.

He brought a bouquet specially for her. He got ready and headed to Inaya's room.

He stood infront of room and was about to knock but he heard sniffling sounds. He leaned on door and heard a man voice.

Soon she opened the door and what he saw made him shock. Inaya standing in the corner of the room while crying and her body is shivering with fear. And on the other side he saw a man sitting on bed with his legs crossed.

Soon Inaya saw him and ran towards him.

Aryan stood still, shocked by what just happened. The bouquet in his hand felt useless now as Inaya clung to him tightly, her tears soaking into his shirt. She was shaking, and without thinking, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

His heart was racing, not because he was nervous, but because he could feel how scared she was. He looked over her shoulder at the man sitting on the bed, the coach who molested her before. Aryan's eyes narrowed slightly, anger bubbling under the surface, but he kept his face calm. His focus was on Inaya.

"Inaya, is everything okay?" Aryan asked.

Inaya didn't answer right away. She just held onto him tighter, her face buried in his chest like she was trying to hide. "Where were you? I was waiting for you for so long," she said.

Aryan's heart clenched. He didn't know what to say. Before he could respond, the coach's harsh voice cut through the room.

"Who is he?" the coach asked, glaring at Aryan.

Inaya finally pulled herself from him but she didn't let go of him. She wiped her tears quickly and said, "He's my fiancé. We're getting married soon."

Aryan froze. His mind went blank. Fiancé? He wasn't expecting that. His face turned red, not from embarrassment, but from the rush of emotions he couldn't explain. Inaya was still holding onto him, so he gently hugged her back, trying to stay composed.

"Fiancé? Where did he come from? You had no one, Inaya," the coach said.

"That was before. Not now. I have Aryan. He's my fiancé, and we're getting married soon," Inaya replied firmly.

The coach's eyes darted between them, suspicion written all over his face. "But he's the sponsor of this tournament. How did you two even meet?" he asked.

Aryan stepped in, tightening his hold around Inaya, feeling how her body trembled slightly against his. He knew she needed him to keep up the act, but it didn't feel like an act to him. It felt real too real.

"Actually, we met two years ago," Aryan said smoothly. "It was during one of my business meeting. She caught my attention immediately, and since then, we've been together."

His arms tightened slightly around Inaya. He could still feel her shaking, but her grip on him remained firm, like she was holding onto the only thing keeping her grounded.

The coach scoffed, standing up from the bed, his expression filled with disbelief and irritation. "I've never heard her mention you. Not even once. Seems strange, doesn't it?"

Aryan's eyes darkened, a dangerous glint flashing for just a second before he masked it with a calm smile. "That's because we've kept it private. We didn't want unnecessary attention. Inaya prefers to focus on her game, and I respect that."

The coach took a step closer, his eyes narrowing. "Private, huh? Interesting. Because she never even looked at a man twice before. Not like this."

Aryan felt Inaya's fingers tighten on his shirt. He could sense her fear rising again, and that was enough to snap something inside him.

With a composed yet cold smile, Aryan said, "Well, people change when they find the right person. Maybe that's what you're failing to understand." His tone was polite, but there was an underlying threat buried in his words.

The coach's jaw clenched. "I don't believe it."

Aryan leaned slightly forward, his face inches from the coach's, his voice dropping to a low whisper, "You don't need to. But if you ever come near my fiancée again, we'll have a problem you won't be able to walk away from."

Aryan walked to the door, opened it, and looked at the coach. "If you're done talking, I'd like you to leave," he said.

The coach's face filled with anger as he walked toward the door. But just as he was about to step out, Aryan looked straight into his eyes.

"Have some shame," Aryan said sharply. "You have no right to enter any girl's room like this. You're a coach, your job is to train players, not mess with their lives or feelings. This is a warning. Don't try this again."

Without waiting for a reply, Aryan shut the door right in the coach's face.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his anger, then turned around. His heart sank when he saw Inaya sitting on the floor, hugging her knees, tears running down her face. She was shaking. Aryan's chest tightened. It hurt him to see her like that.

He walked over and sat beside her, close enough to offer comfort but not too close to make her uncomfortable.

"Is he gone?" Inaya's voice was soft, almost a whisper. She didn't look up, her face still buried in her arms.

"Yes," Aryan replied gently, nodding even though she wasn't looking.

"Are you sure?" she asked again, her whole body trembling.

Aryan's heart broke a little more seeing her like that. "Yes, Inaya. I sent him away and locked the door. He won't come back."

Inaya slowly lifted her head. Her face was red, her eyes swollen from crying. Aryan reached for a glass of water on the nearby table and handed it to her. She took it with shaky hands, mumbling a soft, "Thank you," before drinking.

"Thank you," she repeated after a few sips, her voice still weak.

"For the water?" Aryan asked softly, trying to lighten the mood just a little.

Inaya shook her head slightly. "No... for helping me... by lying."

Aryan tilted his head, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "If you want... we can make that lie true," he said, his tone light, almost playful.

Inaya gave him a confused look, not understanding what he meant. Aryan didn't push further; he just smiled gently, letting the words hang in the air.

After a brief silence, he grew serious again. "Inaya... can I ask you something?"

She looked at him, her eyes still filled with fear and sadness.

"What's with your coach? Why do you always look so scared when he's around?" he asked softly, not wanting to pressure her but unable to hide his concern.

Inaya looked away, her fingers tightening around the glass. "It's nothing. Just leave it."

Aryan nodded slowly. "Okay... if it's personal, I understand." He paused for a moment, then added quietly, "But if you ever want to talk about it... I'm here."

Inaya's lips trembled. She held back for a few seconds, then whispered, "He molested me."

Aryan froze. His mind went blank for a second, like he didn't hear her right. "What?" he asked.

Inaya nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks again.

Aryan clenched his fists, trying to control the rage building inside him. He always thought the coach was a jerk, but he never imagined he could do something this horrible.

"When... when did this happen?" Aryan asked.

"A few years ago," Inaya whispered.

"Didn't you tell your parents?" Aryan asked, his heart breaking more with every word.

Inaya shook her head. "I have no one. My family died in an accident."

Aryan's heart felt like it dropped to the floor. "I'm... I'm so sorry, Inaya," he said softly.

She wiped her tears with the back of her hand. "Yeah... I didn't know who to tell. Since then, he's been scaring me, blackmailing me not to talk about it. That's why I left that place. I moved here, found a new coach, tried to start over... but he found me."

Aryan didn't know what to say for a moment. He wanted to hug her, tell her everything would be okay, but he didn't want to overwhelm her.

Inaya stared into Aryan's eyes, searching for any sign that he might be lying, but all she saw was honesty and warmth.

Aryan gently reached out, placing his hand on hers. not to startle her, just a simple touch, light and comforting. "You're safe now," he whispered softly.

Inaya swallowed hard, her throat dry even after the water. "I've never told anyone this before," she admitted.

Aryan gave her a small, reassuring nod. "Sometimes... it's hard to talk about things that hurt us the most. But I'm glad you told me. You shouldn't have to carry this alone."

Inaya looked down at their hands, his warmth grounding her somehow. "I was always scared... scared that if I told someone, they'd blame me or not believe me. That's what he said would happen."

Aryan's jaw clenched. "That's what people like him do. They make you feel small so you stay silent. But you're not small, Inaya. And none of this is your fault."

Inaya's chest tightened, but not from fear this time. It was the unfamiliar feeling of relief slowly creeping in. She nodded slightly, her fingers gripping his hand a little tighter.

Tears welled up in Inaya's eyes again, but this time they weren't just from pain. There was something else gratitude. "Why are you being so kind to me? I mean I heard that you are a grumpy person" she asked softly.

Aryan gave her a small smile. "Because you deserve kindness. Everyone does. And... I care about you."

His words hung in the air, simple yet heavy with meaning. Inaya didn't respond right away. She just stared at him.

Finally, she whispered, "Thank you."

Aryan nodded, his thumb gently brushing over her knuckles. "You don't have to thank me. I'm just glad you're safe."

For the first time in years, Inaya felt like maybe, just maybe, she wasn't alone anymore.

■

After some time, Aryan gently broke the silence. "I heard your tournament is going to be over soon. So... what are your plans after that?"

Inaya shifted slightly, pulling her knees closer to her chest. "Just going home," she replied quietly.

Aryan turned his head slightly to look at her. "Why don't you come with me? I'll take you to a nice place," he said, a small smile playing on his lips as if trying to lighten her mood.

Inaya slowly lifted her head, her eyes meeting his with a hint of surprise. She didn't say anything, but her expression clearly asked why?

Aryan sighed, running his hand through his hair. "Inaya, I know you might be thinking that I'm trying to take advantage of you or something... but trust me, I'm not like your coach. I hate people like him. I hate manipulative, twisted people who think they can control others. I hate fighting."

We all know he lied.

"Look, Aryan is talking like saint, he is the one who just killed a gang brutally today and now he is lying to a girl who he started to have feelings for" his mind mocked him but he immediately brushed off that thought.

"I know it's hard to trust someone after what he did to you. I get it. But you can't live like this forever afraid, closed off. It's time to give life a chance again. Not all men are bad."

"Trust me. Come with me. You'll feel better."

Inaya stared at him for a few seconds, her heart battling between fear and the fragile hope he'd just planted. She didn't know why, but there was something about his words or maybe the way he said them that made her want to believe him.

Slowly, she nodded her head. It wasn't a big, confident nod just a small one. But it was enough.

Aryan's smile grew a little wider, though there was something hidden behind it something dark, something only he knew.

■

After Inaya fell asleep, Aryan quietly got up and left the room. He walked down to the parking lot, knowing the coach was still around. The area was dimly lit, with only a few cars parked here and there. Aryan's footsteps echoed as he walked, holding a cricket bat tightly in his hand.

He soon spotted the coach walking alone, heading towards his car. Aryan followed him silently, his grip on the bat getting tighter with every step.

Then Aryan whistled.

The coach stopped and turned around, surprised to see Aryan standing there. Before the coach could say anything, Aryan swung the bat with full force, hitting him hard. The coach collapsed to the ground, groaning in pain.

Aryan stood over him, breathing heavily, his eyes filled with rage. He looked down at the coach and said coldly, "You touched something that's personal to me. Now I'll show you what it really feels like to be harassed."

His words were sharp, filled with anger. Aryan didn't stop there his rage had just begun.

To be continued

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