The Forbidden Manuscript : a Villain's Tale

chapter 48 : Whispers of a Faded Flame

Two years have passed .....

Rakshit's POV

Two years had passed since Yash had been gone, but every single day felt as fresh as the day he disappeared. Life had shifted drastically, and not for the better. Nandini, my Queenie, the girl who used to be full of life and energy, had turned into a shell of herself after she woke up. She had fallen into a coma for two months after Yash vanished, and no one knew the reason. Not the doctors, not Nitu, not even I. It was as if she had been holding onto something in her subconscious, something we couldn't understand. The medical reports were clean-nothing wrong, nothing physically broken. But I knew the truth; the pieces of her heart and soul had shattered the night Yash disappeared.

While Nitu and I took care of her, I tried to keep up with Yash's last instructions, though some orders I just couldn't bring myself to follow. Yash had made it clear that I was to erase every trace of him from Nandini's life, from the public eye-dating photos, news, updates, everything.I have done as he ordered.

But It was almost like he wanted to erase himself from existence, as if he never mattered to anyone. But how could I? How could I wipe him away, erase all signs of the man who was both my best friend and her deepest love?

Instead, I created a different story-Yashwardhan Singhania wasn't dead. No, he was simply gone, off in Scotland, deep in research for new technologies, disconnected from the world to focus on his passion. It felt wrong to follow through with his plan, to make it look like he had died in some explosion. Instead, I kept his name alive, using his empire to control both his business and the mafia world. I couldn't let him disappear-not as Yashwardhan Singhania. Asura might have faded, but Yash deserved to be remembered.

And Nandini... She had no idea. When she finally woke from the coma, she didn't remember Yash. Not me either, not really. To her, I was just Nitu's boyfriend, someone who happened to be in the mafia. But we bonded again, slowly, and as she healed, her nightmares were gone. The haunting screams, the flinching from invisible memories-those were gone. And oddly enough, she wasn't even afraid of the rain anymore. In fact, she seemed to love it now, spending hours outside in the downpour, sometimes crying silently. The rain became her companion, washing away the pain she couldn't express in words.

But there was one thing she didn't let go of: the black feather necklace. It still hung around her neck, day and night, as if it held some unspoken promise. Maybe it was hope, maybe just a symbol, but for me, it was the last thread tying her to Yash. I clung to that thread, hoping-just maybe-that he'd return.

I ran a hand through my hair, staring blankly at my empty coffee cup. Nandini's change, the way she had become more introverted, more silent, weighed heavily on me. I hadn't realized how much time had passed until a soft knock on the door snapped me out of my thoughts.

Nitu entered, a quiet presence in the room, and without a word, she walked over and hugged me gently. I kissed her forehead, noticing how she, too, had changed. She had matured in the last two years, becoming a rock for Nandini and me. But even though she had become a little quieter, her once bubbly personality was dimmed . It was like his disappearance had created a ripple that none of us could escape.

She perched on the edge of my desk, her hand resting lightly on my arm. "Rakshit," she began, her voice soft but determined. "I think it's finally time to let go."

I frowned, my brows furrowing as I looked at her. "What do you mean?" I asked, gesturing for her to come closer. She walked closer and sat on my lap, curling into me like she always did when she wanted to have a serious conversation. I wrapped my arms around her, kissing her temple softly.

"We're all still holding on to him, Rakshit. Nandini, especially. Even without her memories, she's missing him. I see it every time it rains. She cries like she's lost something, but she doesn't even know what it is. She's still waiting for him, without realizing she's waiting." Nitu's voice cracked, the weight of her words hanging between us.

I sighed deeply, running a hand down her back. "It's not just about us letting him go, Nitu," I whispered. "It's about Nandini. How do you expect her to move on when she doesn't even remember what she's waiting for? She's stuck in this limbo, and so are we."

Nitu shifted, her eyes meeting mine, filled with an emotion I couldn't quite place. "Rakshit... there's been a proposal for her. For marriage."

My body stiffened instantly. "What do you mean?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

She sighed and leaned her head on my shoulder. "Mom's been looking into marriage proposals for both of us. You know that. I've told them about us, and they've accepted it, but for Nandini... I think she should move on, find someone who can make her happy."

I stayed quiet for a moment, my mind racing. Could marriage really be the answer? Could another man give her what Yash had taken with him when he disappeared? I wasn't sure, but the thought of it made me uneasy.

Nitu seemed to sense my hesitation. "I'm not saying she should rush into anything," she said softly, "but maybe it's time to let her find some kind of happiness, Rakshit. She deserves that, doesn't she?"

I kissed her arm gently, my heart heavy. "I don't know, Nitu," I whispered, staring out the window at the storm clouds gathering in the distance. "I just don't know."

Three days later,

I sat with Nitu, keeping a distance while we watched Nandini meeting the man whose proposal she accepted. There we were, spying, though we couldn't even explain why we felt the need to do so. It felt strange, watching her smile, but there was something missing-no spark of true happiness in her eyes.

An hour later, as they wrapped up and prepared to leave, I offered Nitu a ride home. She accepted, and as we drove, the silence between us was telling. Neither of us felt good about this marriage, even though it was for Nandini's happiness. I could sense it in Nitu-she didn't want this any more than I did, but for Nandini's sake, we were playing along.

Once we arrived at her house, we went straight to her room. Her parents already knew about our relationship, so it wasn't an issue. I sat on the edge of the bed, deep in thought. My eyes wandered across the shelves, and then I noticed something behind one of them: a few pages hidden away. I pulled them out, my heart skipping a beat when I realized it was Yash's manuscript. She must have hidden it here.

Nitu emerged from the washroom, dressed comfortably. She noticed what I was holding and let out a small sigh. "I couldn't find a good spot to hide it," she said, sitting next to me.

"Can I take it with me?" I asked, looking at the pages.

"Yeah, sure," she replied, leaning into me. I wrapped my arms around her, grateful for her presence.

"Did you like Rohit?" she asked softly, referring to Nandini's potential fiancé.

I answered honestly. "Nope. Not even a little."

She nodded, clearly in agreement. We talked a little more about the day and our concerns, but eventually, I had to leave.

Later that night, exhausted from the office, I came home, had dinner, and found myself unable to sleep. The manuscript was calling to me. I sat down in my study, opened it, and began to read for the first time. The more I read, the more I felt like I was stepping into Yash's world-his childhood, his powers, the weight of his responsibilities. He wasn't just a villain to begin with . He was a hero in his own way.

As I finished the manuscript, I closed it, leaning back in my chair, staring out the glass window at the city. The lights glittered in the distance, but my mind was far from the present.

"Your Nandini, your Little Swan, is getting engaged to some complete idiot green flag next week," I whispered, as if Yash could somehow hear me.

I sighed deeply and finally went to bed, trying to let the day's weight fall away.

just as lights turned off , a flicker-a small spark of black and red spark coming from the manuscript, like a fleeting ember. It was gone in an instant.