Agree

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CHAPTER FIVE

AGREE

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With deliberate and thunderous steps, he made his entrance into his second cherished sanctuary, cause her scent became the first. Now her thoughts barely leave his system.

His whistling echoes in the silent corridor, and his way towards the basement. After making sure she got home safely, he made his way directly here, his secret house.

As he thinks, he climbs the stairs to his basement, his loud footsteps announcing that danger is near, ready to chase, hunt, and torment them.

A haunting melody of his whistle that signals them the arrival of the hunter. He is not called Heller for mere amusement; those who enter his domain are destined for a fate far worse than they can imagine.

'HELLER'

He never called himself Heller. After his arrival in his cruel, ugly world, his aura dominated so much that they start calling him that out of fear and it's became his pleasure to maintain it.

He pauses at the final step and counts. Eight wretched souls kneel before him, drenched in their own blood, teetering on the brink of life and death-his men have done their part, and he shall deliver the final blow.

How audacious they are to chase her!

He clenches his fist within his pocket, his gaze darkening as he strides past them to take his seat. They avoid his gaze, feeling the palpable shift in the air that his presence brings, causing them to shudder.

In the dimly lit basement, surrounded by his men, he places one leg over the other. After a long silence, he whispers, "Aayesha Sharma," in a low, gentle voice. He emphasizes each syllable of her name with exquisite care.

The men feel their breath hitched in their throats. Hearing the name of the girl they're chasing spoken with such affection from his lips is enough to make them realize their grave mistake. They know they will not survive once they divulge the information he seeks, by hook and crook. The sooner they comply, the better their chances.

The leader of the group, trembling with fear, stammers, "We're just chasing her." His voice quivers as he turns his head sharply to the other side by a force. The other members of his group flinch at his sudden movement, but Neil's men remain unfazed.

Wahan grips the back of the man's neck, forcing him to meet his gaze. The other man looks into his piercing green eyes, obscured by a shadowy veil, and he gulps, quickly averting his gaze.

Wahan raising an eyebrow, and inquires with unwavering firmness, "Just chasing her?" The danger laced in his voice makes it clear that the answer lies within the question.

The man opens his mouth to respond, but another punch lands, causing blood to spill from his lips. Wahan growls, "You're going to kill her," his voice rough and filled with intensity.

The other men tremble, fear evident in his voices as he reply, "We're doing what our boss told us to do. It's not our fault we didn't know she was your girl." he scared by him and there was no option he going to lie. He was trembling beneath his grip.

Wahan pushed him backward and stands up, his cold, gravelly voice echoing through the basement. "Why does your boss want to kill her?" He fixes his gaze on them with a predatory stare, like a hunter eyeing his prey.

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Wahan emerged from the basement, his eyes red and his body seething with anger. He had just taken the life of the group's leader, and his men had deal with the rest. His mind was consumed by a singular, harrowing truth.

Her father!

When a member of the semon gang mentioned the name of his future father-in-law, it sent a chill down his spine. Because of him, they were not only pursuing her but were intent on ending her life that very night. What if he wasn't there to protect her?

Shhh...

Don't think like that.

She is safe, and will be safe in the future too.

He couldn't understand why they wanted to kill her. What role did his father play in this? What had he done? This marriage seemed more suspicious than he had thought, and he was determined to uncover the truth behind it.

He called her father, asking to meet, but the man refused. Using his leverage, he threatened not to marry his daughter, and in an instant, he changed his mind.

Daughter is precious!

To every father, his daughter is a jewel beyond compare. Should they be blessed with a daughter in the future, she too would be his precious princess. A smile briefly lit up his face, but it quickly faded as her words echoed in his mind, his heart ached at the thought, and he murmured with a heavy heart, "But we can't feel that."

He paused, surprised by his thought. "Wait a minute-what am I thinking? Did I just...? No, no, no. How could I think like that? Something must be wrong with me." He shook head in disbelief.

His mind retorted, "Nothing is wrong; it's just a side effect of her presence."

He snapped back, "Silence!" Just then, Aman and his men arrived, and Aman inquired, "What's the matter, boss?" With a harsh tone, he replied, "Nothing," and walked away.

He pondered, "Don't forget, Wahan, what you've decided; you're never going to make your own family. What happened in your past is enough for you now you do not give that same thing and this dirty world to your little life."

He stepped out of his secret house, slid into the driver's seat of his car, and started the engine. As the sound of the engine roared, he tightened his grip on the steering wheel and drove away.

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After a half-hour drive, he stepped out of the car and locked the door behind him. He arrived at the location his future father-in-law had instructed him to come.

As he surveyed his surroundings, he noticed that while the place wasn't overly luxurious, it still met his standards. He approached the entrance, the lighting was dimmer than that of other restaurants and cafes, and only a few tables were occupied by couples enjoying their evening.

His emerald gaze scanned the room until it landed on the right corner, where he spotted her father. The older man was already watching him with a piercing, cold gaze that felt more like a stare.

Both father and daughter shared an unsettling habit of staring at him, their gazes unwavering and heavy with expectation, making him feel a bit uneasy.

They both need to hesitate a little bit.

During the brief 15-minute visit to their home, her father had spent nearly all of that time-fourteen minutes and fifty-nine seconds-fixated on him, while his daughter contributed the remaining second.

She barely glanced at him for a minute. Has his handsome face lost its allure in that fleeting moment? Cause the solitary encounter with her left her unable to look away from him.

He approached and took a seat across from her father, who didn't shift his gaze for even a moment. Frustrated, he coldly remarked, "Stop looking at ME!"

After a few more seconds of silence, the older man finally looked away. Without waiting for pleasantries, he inquired, "Why are you marrying your daughter to me? You know everything about me and how dangerous this could be for her after the wedding."

His existence is not a gentle stroll through a garden of blossoms, but rather a path filled with stones and thorns. After his marriage, she became a pawn in a dangerous game, a target for those who would use her to hurt him. If fate were to take him at the hands of his enemies, and after his death, he feared they would claim her and treat her as a whore, a fate he could never allow.

He ensured her safety after his departure, or

he would take her to hell with him.

With a heavy heart, her father replied, still avoiding eye contact, "If I had any other option, I would never consider marrying my princess to you."

Raising an eyebrow in curiosity, he pressed further, "So you're saying you have no choice but to marry your daughter to me? What leads you to this conclusion?"

Her father nodded in disappointment, stating, "Indeed, even the greatest fool in the world would hesitate to marry their daughter to you." His sharp words felt like a direct insult, and he couldn't help but feel the sting of the older man's audacity.

Wahan tightened his fist under the table, his intense gaze fixed on the man before him. Was he doubting his ability to keep his wife safe?

Her father chuckled softly, his voice low and laced with disappointment. "But I must do this."

If he despised him, why was he compelled to take this step? It felt as if he were a lover and her father trying to protect his daughter from him, while she was fighting to convince him to accept their union. If he truly loved her, he wouldn't care about the shit of this old man's opinion.

His expression remained impassive as he inquired, "And why is that?" His tone was sharp and frigid.

He again inquired about the motive for the marriage, and this time, if he failed to provide an answer, the gun nestled in his waistband, fully loaded, would be pressed ominously against his forehead.

With a heavy exhale, he met Wahan's dark eyes and replied, "Because her life is at risk." His voice trembled with fear, his eyes betraying vulnerability.

Wahan's face remained a mask of neutrality, his gaze searching the old man's eyes for any hint of lie, yet he found none. After a long silence, he retorted, "You could protect your daughter yourself, you also have to consider a good place in the dark world." His voice was flat and low

The old man erupted, shouting, "If I could, then I would be a fool to marry my daughter to you!"

He bellowed, "Control your tone, Mr. Sharma. Do not forget who I am," his voice laced with menace and warning, his dark eyes locking onto him with a dangerous intensity.

How dare he raise his voice? Wahan had never given anyone that right and no-one is going to have it.

In a commanding tone, he demanded, "Now tell me directly why this marriage is necessary and what danger she faces?"

The specifics mattered little; what truly counted was her safety. He maintained a steady outside, but inside, a storm was brewing.

The elderly man spoke softly, "The knight gang seeks revenge on me by targeting my princess," his voice barely above a whisper, filled with guilt.

It was clear he was unaware of the true danger she faced because of his past actions, having taken the life of the group leader before arriving here, who was chasing her. With a hint of curiosity, he inquired, "What did he do that makes him want revenge on you?"

With hesitation, the old man replied, "I don't know much about him; he's part of a dark world. One day, he came to my office with a proposal that I needed, but in return, he wanted..." He paused, his chest tightening with the weight of his words.

Wahan's gaze sharpened as he pressed, "What does he seek in exchange?" His voice was low and icy, a troubling thought beginning to take shape in his mind, one he wished to dismiss.

As the old man lowered his gaze, he finally uttered, "He wishes to marry my daughter, just to fulfill his own desires," his tone thick with guilt and humiliation.

What the fuck...

Rising abruptly, Wahan slammed his hands onto the table, the sound reverberating through the dimly lit room, drawing the attention of all present. Yet, he remained unfazed. His eyes darkened, nearly swallowed by the shadows, as he leaned toward the old man, jaw clenched, and declared, "You agreed to this for a mere deal without considering your daughter's feelings. Did you even ask her what she wants? No, you didn't. I feel ashamed that she has a father like you. Do you think of her as a s!ut or whore?"

The old man protested, "No! I would never think of my daughter in such a way," his words tumbling out in disarray.

Wahan's teeth ground together as he shouted, "fucking.. She is my daughter! My daughter! Where was your 'my daughter' gone when you were making deals with him, or should I say selling her to him" His voice dripped with disgust and possessiveness.

Wahan's harsh words struck the old man like a slap. He realized the gravity of his mistake.

He found himself in a familiar struggle, resolutely stating, "No, I will never sell her. As soon as I understood his intentions, I canceled the deal, even though it meant a significant loss for my company. I will never sell her." He paused, his eyes glistening with remorse and his breath heavy with emotion. "And then I discovered he was already married, and my daughter would be his fourth wife?"

Wahan sit back and open and close his fist to control his inside demon.

After a moment of silence, he continued, "He threatened me, saying he would marry her or, if that wasn't possible, he would kill her and ruin me. It was then that I learned his true nature. I'm trying to protect my daughter, but I feel powerless against someone so much stronger than me."

Wahan absorbed the weight of his words, his disgust for the man unwavering. He sighed and asked, "how did I come in your mind?"

The other man replied, "I did not seek you out. One day, by chance, I encountered Maya, your badi maa. She proposed that I marry my daughter with her son, but I declined. I am well aware of you and your power, and Maya's insatiable greed, so I offered her a deal: if you were to marry my daughter, I would invest a substantial sum in her company, and she accepted without hesitation."

He pressed further, "You wish for her to marry me solely for my ability to protect her?"

The man responded swiftly, "Indeed, for you are her only safeguard. You command the dark world; you are a king. With you by her side, no one would dare to harm or even gaze upon her."

His expression remained blank, devoid of any reaction. The man pleaded, "Please, marry my daughter. I'm begging you. Please." His voice was filled with desperation, and his eyes glistening with unshed tears, yet Wahan's face betrayed no emotion as he silently turned and walked away.

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At his mansion,

He stood on his balcony, cigarette in hand, staring into the distance. His thoughts were consumed by the meeting he had with her father, anger simmering within him like water boiling on a stove.

What kind of man would trade his daughter for a mere deal? Could he truly call himself her father? Did he view her as nothing more than an object, disregarding her autonomy? Did her consent mean nothing to him?

This reflects a profound societal issue-where women are often viewed as objects, yet at the same time, they are revered as goddesses. How can they find the audacity to worship when the very goddess of their household is deemed unworthy?

And then there are those despicable 'knight', a gang of fools who will soon learn the consequences of their actions. I will ensure that not a single strand of their hair remains as evidence of their existence.

I will make sure that anyone who dares to look at her, touch her or especially the men who desire to marry her and harm her, will face a fate worse than death until his or her last breath.

After a long period of contemplation, clearing the chaos from his mind, he dialed her number. After two or three rings, she answered. He wants to hear her sweet voice, but he cuts straight to the point, saying with an unwavering resolve, "I'm going to marry you, darling."

You may wonder how he obtained her number; he had simply reached out to her father, and asked him for it, but he refused. So, he used leverage again, he threatened not to marry his daughter, and obtain it.

Simple.

He could almost picture her shock, her mouth agape and eyes wide with disbelief as she stammered, "What the-" before he hung the call.

His mind was already a whirlwind, and he had no desire to complicate it further with her sweet but distracting arguments.

Of course, he would marry her-not for the sake of her father, but because he had made a promise, and his word held great significance. Unlike her mother, he would not be easily swayed. Should Mrs. Khurana attempted to manipulate him in her name again, she would soon discover the depths of his resolve.

He didn't want to admit it, but something deep within him compelled him to marry her, to claim her as his own, to reserve her for him and him for her.

He entered his room, opened his laptop, and within moments, he accessed the meeting location where they gathered. Hacking was a divine gift for him, a gift he never sought out. His true passion lay in his business and the academic path he had chosen.

However, during the middle of his first year in college, his roommate introduced him to a friend who was immersed in the world of computer hacking. This encounter ignited a spark of curiosity within him about computers and coding, and his interest blossomed with each passing day.

So much so that he decided to switch his major, and fortunately, there were no semesters in session when he made that choice. Initially, it took him some time to adapt, but his remarkable memory helped him excel, earning him the top spot on campus. Yet, he chose not to pursue that position again.

He played a video where she was instructed him how to soften his gaze and how she wanted him to look at her. He paused it abruptly when she expressed her desire for him to look at her with a smile.

He zoomed in, examined his eyes closely. His heart raced in his ears. They appeared different. This was not his gaze. He shook his head repeatedly, refusing to accept the reality.

He whispered to himself, "Can my eyes really look like that? Are they truly mine? I doubt it, but she seems to like it. Am I capable of looking at her that way again, without frightening her, making her feel at ease around me?" He was uncertain of his own murmurs, but his thoughts were interrupted by a knock on his door.

Sitting up straight, he adjusted his attire and coldly commanded, "Come in," regaining his dark composure. He closed his laptop with one last glance at her.

Aman entered and announced, "Boss, the car is ready." He nodded, stood up, wore his blazer, and departed with him.

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The next morning, it was 10 am.

He stepped out of his office, dressed in a sleek black Armani suit. His manager, Aman, approached him from behind, discussing the day's schedule and the details of their upcoming meeting.

But he suddenly stopped in his tracks, his gaze fixed ahead. His eyes widened as he spotted her beside his car, nervously tapping her foot and fingers. What could she possibly be doing here? He tilted his head slightly, his expression softening as he took in her appearance, his nerves tingling with curiosity.

She wore a knee-length lavender floral dress, a petite bag slung over her shoulder. Her hair was styled in loose braids, with minimal makeup and no accessories. As always,

simple yet precious.

"Sir, today's-" Aman began, but he silenced him with a gentle "shh, later." The manager's eyes widened in surprise as he followed Wahan's gaze, realizing it was fixed on the girl.

A girl?

When did this happen? How had he no idea? And his eyes too? He stays with him for twenty-three hours each day; how could he have missed this? Was his absence for just one day so impactful? Aman pondered silently.

Wahan stepped closer, his voice laced with concern and confusion, yet his tone retained its characteristic coolness. "What's wrong? Why are you here? Aren't you supposed to be in class?"

Her nervous tapping ceased at his cold-and-sinful voice. Taking a soft breath before turning to face him, she inhaled his musky fragrance, her body gave up with her, Yet, she steadied herself and replied firmly, "I need to talk to you," she looked down unable to maintain her gaze on his striking green eyes for long.

But they were gorgeous!

He tilted his head thoughtfully before responding, "Today, I find myself quite occupied..." He paused for a moment, then continued,, "I'll call you if I find some time, okay?" His voice was soft yet carried an icy undertone.

She shook her head, insisting, "No, I need to talk to you. You can't marry me." He didn't react, moving toward his car, but she grasped his large hand with her smaller one, trying to stop him.

His heart raced. He glanced at their intertwined hands, then back at her, astonished. He wonders how this happened?

She touched him.

"Please, listen to me," she pleaded, her eyes filled with desperation. It was difficult for him to meet her gaze when she looked at him with such intensity.. Her attention shifted to their hands as he again directed his attention there.

Suddenly, she jerked his hand away and stepped back, quickly apologizing, "I'm sorry." His expression remained unchanged; he sensed her underlying fear. He tucked his hand into his pocket.

He is going to know about this too.

She was taken aback by her own reaction. Has her phobia truly vanished? Did she trust him? She kept her gaze down, rubbing her hand against her clothes.

He inquired, "Aren't you missing your lecture?"

She shook her head, replying, "No, the college is closed today."

He nodded in understanding and asked, "Does your mother know you're here to see me?"

She again shook her head, saying, "She'll find out once I return home, and it's not new for us," the last part whispered softly, yet he caught it and smiled before quickly regaining his composure.

A singular figure observed in disbelief as he watched the teleshow from just a few feet away. Aman's thoughts raced, "No way, my boss fucking has dimples. How can someone who looks like a devil have them, while an angel like me doesn't?"

Wahan replied to her, "Alright then," and moved towards his car.

She called out, "Why can't you understand me?"

He turned to her with gentle eyes and said, "I'm understanding you, and you are the only person in my life whom I truly want to understand." He opened the back seat door while keeping his gaze on her.

Her heart raced at his words, and her half insane mind, was further consumed by his declarations. He gestured for her to enter, and without a second thought, she slid inside, shifting back to allow him space.

Before taking his seat, he shot a stern look at Aman and warned, "If you don't move or blink one more second then I will ensure you cannot breathe after that" He then settled into his seat, adjusting himself.

Aman flinched, feeling a chill from his words, as he took his place in the car and its drive off, his thoughts spiraling, "Today, I've witnessed my boss's other side, and it's clear that a woman can indeed transform even the most devilish of men."

Unaware of her own actions, she pressed on, "You're not understanding me. Have you forgotten what I told you yesterday?"

He regarded her with a hint of amusement, thinking, "Is she implying that I am forgetful? I didn't build this empire merely for show. My remaining influence surpasses that of anyone here, especially hers."

Her voice broke through his thoughts, "I can't have your child, so why are you pressuring me?" Aman's head snapped towards them, his eyes widening at her bold statement.

He replied firmly, "I don't forget. And I'm not pressuring you. I'm trying to convince you to marry me."

Aman's eyes widened even more in surprise as he asked, "Boss, you're getting married? When? Why? How could any father give his daughter to you without a second thought?" His voice laced with shock and confusion. Aayesha chuckled at his reaction, while Aman smiled innocently.

Wahan shot a deadly glare in his direction, his voice laced with danger as he commanded, "Turn your head and pretend you're not in the car, or I'll adorn your photo frame with a garland."

Aman complied, sitting as instructed, while Wahan's gaze shifted to her. The smile that once graced her lips had vanished. She swallowed hard, attempted to speak, but he silenced her with a warning: "One word from those pretty lips, darling, and I'll seal them in my own way." And placed his gaze on her lips. Her stomach twisted, cheeks flushed a deep crimson as she turned her head, lightly bumping it against the window.

She regained her sanse, she snapped, "What the-where are you taking me? Are you kidnapping me?" Her eyes widen and asked with fear.

He narrowed his eyes, setting aside his iPad. "And why would I do that? In a few days, you're going to be mine."

A shiver coursed down her spine, her cheeks flushed again, heart fluttering at his words. He smirked at her reaction. Regaining her composure, she innocently inquired, "Then why am I with you? Where are we going?"

He exhaled softly, explaining, "I have a meeting to attend, and you came demanding to talk to me. I can't afford to be late for my meeting, nor can I allow you to be left alone. I'll ensure you're safely returned home after my meeting, alright?" His voice was gentle, his eyes locked onto hers, which gazed back with innocence.

How could he explain why he couldn't leave her unprotected? Knowing her life was at risk, and that her father was unable to safeguard her properly, the mere thought of harm on her weighed heavily on him.

She didn't argue, nodding in understanding, like a good girl. He returned to his work, while she gazed out the window, watching the fleeting shadows. Occasionally, he stole glances at her from the corner of his eye, but Aman's mind was tangled with revealed thoughts.

After an hour of silence, the car came to a halt outside a luxurious building. They exited and entered, where a young woman approached them with a warm smile. "Good morning, Mr. Khurana and Mr. Aman, please follow me." She was dressed in a sky-blue blouse paired with a chic black skirt that fell to mid-thigh.

Aman walks and talks with the girl, while Wahan and Aayesha trail behind at a distance. Leaning closer to her ear, he murmurs,, "Follow me wherever I go, until I tell you otherwise."

Curious, she turns to him and asks, "Why?"

He stood straight, spoke firmly, "You don't need to know," and walked away from her. She hurried to catch up, matching his pace, and asked, "What about the restroom?" She left him stunned in surprise as he looked in her innocent face, while eyebrows raised in disbelief.

She isn't innocent.

She forces a smile and clarifies, "I meant you said to follow you anywhere." There's a hint of fear in her eyes.

He smirks and leans in closer her face, his voice low and husky, laced with an alluring undertone, "If you wish to follow, I won't stop you."

Her cheeks flush, and a chill shiver runs through her spine. He leaves her in a dazed, lost in thought about what just happened.

Suddenly, his cold, sinful voice breaks through her thoughts, "Now, you're not going to follow me." Regaining her composure, she trails behind him.

As the elevator doors open on the 15th floor, they step into an empty room, its walls adorned in deep blue, complemented by matching interiors. Soft yellow lighting bathes the space, enhancing its allure.

They approach a man seated at a table in the center. The girl informs him, "Sir, Mr. Khurana has arrived," and then steps away.

The man stands and extends his hand, greeting, "How are you, Mr. Khurana?"

Wahan retorts, "How do I appear to you?" The man's expression falters, but the two behind him manage to smile.

The man's gaze shifts to Aayesha, his eyes filled with an unsettling desire that makes her uncomfortable. Wahan, sensing her distress, steps protectively in front of her, warning in a menacing tone, "Gaze at her or any woman with such lustful eyes, and I'll make sure your eyes are displayed in my office as decoration."

The man swallows hard, remaining silent. Wahan breaks the tension with a commanding tone, "Shall we discuss matters for why we're here?" With raised brows.

He nodded and gestureed for him to follow, "yes, come with me"

Wahan turned to her, his voice soft and reassuring, "Stay here. I'll return shortly." She nodded, a smile gracing her lips, and watched as he departed with Aman.

Once he was gone, her smile faded, and a sigh escaped her lips. She glanced around, her gaze landing on the expansive glass wall that framed a breathtaking view of the city. Approaching it, she stood before the glass, staring blankly outside, though her heart raced and the sound of her pulse filled her ears when a cold-and-sinful voice broke the silence, "Blue."

BLUE!

She turned to see him striding toward her, and she swallowed hard, captivated by his presence. His physique seemed sculpted, as if he were crafted by divine hands for a long time. His clothes hugged his form perfectly, accentuating his biceps and toned shoulders. She found herself frozen, unable to move or express any emotion.

She desiring to look more.

She found him standing just beyond her reach, his voice commanding yet gentle, "Give me your hand." A frown crossed her face, but her eyes remained fixed on his, her hand unmoving. He took her hand with a delicate grip, guiding her fingers to his phone screen.

"What are you doing?" she inquired, curiosity piqued.

"I noticed you didn't have your phone with you, or perhaps it was off, since you haven't used it since we arrived," he replied, her mouth slightly agape in surprise.

Could he truly have noticed? Was she merely overthinking? Did he genuinely care for her? But what could his intentions be?

He placed his phone in her palm, instructing, "I've set your fingerprint. Call your mother and let her know you're with me." He glanced around, concern evident in his tone, " I'm running late. Please, don't wander off. Just wait for me here." She nodded, and he slowly departed again.

She placed her hand over her heart, wondering, "Why is my heart racing so fast?" Then she looked down at his phone in her hand, her mind swirling with different thoughts and emotions.

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After wrapping up his two-and-a-half-hour meeting, he dropped her off safely at her house before heading to his secret house to deal with his betrayal regarding with Aman.

Once that was settled, he returned to his mansion, feeling exhausted from the long day and his life. He went straight to take the shower to wash away his fatigue.

Emerging from the bathroom, he was dressed only in his trousers, towel in hand as he dried his hair. Water droplets glided down his bare skin, and he locked the door behind him.

Just then, his phone rang again, he shut his eyes in frustration. He strode toward the device, muttering curses under his breath, "What the-" but halted abruptly upon seeing her name illuminate the screen.

"Oh! It's blue. She can call me at any hour," he declared possessively, his anger dissipating. Why was she calling at this hour? Was she missing him? No, that couldn't be it.

Was something wrong?

Without hesitation, he answered the call, but before he could speak, she declared, "I'm going to marry you." He was taken aback by her unexpected affirmation. How had she come to this decision so suddenly?

He opened his mouth to ask her, but she hung up before he could say anything. Staring at the blank screen in disbelief, he whispered to himself, "Is she just took revenge on me?"

His mind confirmed, "yes, she did."

He ignore him and added, "And how is she ready for this?"

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