The committee room smelled of cigars and power. Dim overhead lights cast long shadows across the mahogany table where five of the city's most feared names sat: Ak, Snira, Ap, Diksha, and… the unspoken tension that clung to the air like smoke. Last night's attack on Ak had stirred the streets into whispers, and tonight, they gathered to decide who would pay.
Ak leaned back in his chair, the faintest smirk on his lips, but his eyes were sharp, alert—calculating. Every movement in the room seemed to occur under his scrutiny. Snira, as always, could not sit still. She tapped her nails lightly on the table, her dark eyes locked on him, a storm hidden beneath the surface. She asked questions, subtly, probing—trying to draw him out.
"Ak," she said, voice soft but laced with curiosity, "why do you think they targeted you? Do you know who it was?"
He didn't answer. He never did, not in these moments. Her question hung in the air, deliberately unanswered. Snira's lips tightened, and for a fleeting moment, frustration flashed across her face. But she masked it—always the perfect image of control.
The meeting dragged on, discussions of retaliation, of streets, of blood debts. Ak spoke rarely, but when he did, his words cut through the air like a blade. Snira leaned forward again, daring, wanting, needing his attention. Yet he remained unreadable, his gaze somewhere else—locked in memories that had nothing to do with the present.
After the committee dispersed, leaving only the lingering smoke and tension, Ak leaned back in his chair and allowed himself to remember.
He remembered Tia.
The girl who had risked everything to hide him, who had whispered words of caution and comfort in a world that demanded only ruthlessness. Tia, with her naive smile and fierce loyalty, had always fascinated him. They had liked each other once, long ago, in high school—two young hearts thrown together by circumstance, bound by fleeting understanding. But misunderstandings, mistimings, and the chaotic lives they led had torn them apart before anything could truly blossom.
And then there was Snira. His Snira.
The girl who had stolen his heart with her audacity, her confidence, her reckless beauty. He had fallen for her deeply, completely, and yet… she had chosen another boy in high school, simply because he was "cuter," leaving Ak with a wound that never fully healed. She had crushed him with ease, and in that moment, her cruelty had etched itself into his memory.
Ak closed his eyes. The room disappeared, replaced by the memory of high school hallways, stolen glances, and quiet whispers. He remembered the warmth of Tia's hand brushing against his, her shy smile when he dared to tease her. The softness in her voice, the genuine concern, the tiny gestures that made her sweetness unbearable and addictive.
And he remembered Snira's sharp laughter, the way she had turned him inside out with a single look. How she had chosen her own desire over his heart, leaving him to wonder if he had ever truly mattered.
He compared the two—Tia's innocence, her selfless courage, her unwavering devotion, to Snira's cruelty, her calculated charm, and obsessive tendencies. His mind twisted around the contrast, remembering every detail, every emotion, every heartbreak.
The juxtaposition was maddening. Tia had saved him last night, risking exposure, offering shelter, offering care. Snira had tried to force her way back into his life, even now, with her eyes always on him, her obsession barely concealed.
He shook his head slightly, as if to clear the haze of memories, but the images persisted. He could feel the pull of both women, two poles of obsession and desire, and he—Ak—was caught squarely in the middle.
Meanwhile, Snira's mind worked differently. She had sensed his detachment during the meeting, the way he ignored her. It burned her from the inside. Ak, the man she had loved and still loved, had looked past her, had given no indication that she still held a place in his thoughts. Her heartbeat quickened, and her mind raced with possibilities. Was he thinking of someone else? Of Tia, perhaps?
The thought made her stomach twist with jealousy and rage. She was his ex. She had shared pieces of herself with him that no one else could touch. And yet… he still remembered Tia.
Snira's obsession flared, dangerous and unrelenting. Every part of her wanted to assert control, to remind him who had been there first, who had endured, who truly deserved him. She would not allow herself to be overlooked, not now, not ever.
Ak, still lost in memory, thought of Tia again. Her hands, shaking slightly as she had guided him through the chaos of last night. Her quiet courage, her willingness to risk herself to keep him safe. He remembered how different she was from Snira—how her affection was tender, pure, unwavering, while Snira's had been sharp, demanding, sometimes cruel.
He wondered what it would be like to have Tia fully by his side. To reclaim the comfort and loyalty she offered. To juxtapose it against the danger and desire that Snira represented. His chest tightened with conflicting longing, desire, and guilt.
Snira, sensing his internal tug-of-war, moved closer to him later that evening, under the guise of casual conversation. Her voice was soft but edged with danger, teasing, questioning. "You've been thinking about her, haven't you?" she said, almost a whisper. Her eyes glinted, and a smirk played at her lips.
Ak's jaw tightened. He didn't answer, but the silence spoke volumes. Snira leaned slightly, her presence dominating, almost predatory. Her obsession, her past, and her desire coiled around him like a snake—beautiful, dangerous, impossible to ignore.
He remembered her choosing another boy in high school, her heart twisted by trivial things, yet now… now she wanted him back. And she was willing to fight. Ak felt the thrill of control, the pull of temptation, the weight of history. Every memory, every emotion, every heartbreak—it all collided inside him.
And Tia? She was waiting somewhere, unaware of the storm that was brewing, unaware of Snira's obsession, unaware of how deeply the past and present were entwined around Ak.
The night stretched on, heavy with unspoken words and dangerous desires. The past had returned to haunt him, to challenge him, to force choices that were as cruel as they were irresistible. Shadows of obsession danced in every corner of his mind, and Ak knew, with dark certainty, that nothing would ever be the same again.
Because in a world ruled by power, fear, and desire, love was never innocent. And obsession… obsession was a weapon.