A Desi romcom Indian story, where the main lead is not any kind of mafia or any emotionless. Rude, Ruthless man.
He is a kind man, who makes a priority of his family and wife first. He is. Standard. Unlike those leads who curses there family uneven...
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Midnight had settled in by the time I returned from work. I usually didn’t stay out this late, but today had been different. The paparazzi had made sure of that.
They were relentless, swarming around me like vultures, trying to dig into things that weren’t meant for the public eye. But I had been just as relentless in keeping them away from her. She wasn’t supposed to be dragged into this. She wasn’t supposed to know. Neither of us had been informed by our families. I had found out on my own—an offer, they called it. A merger beneficial to both companies.
A transaction, not a marriage.
But something in me had been restless all evening, a feeling I couldn’t shake. So, without a second thought, I took a detour, stopping by the Bhavani Mansion—not to intrude, just to watch from a distance. To make sure she was safe.
Except fate had different plans.
The moment I stepped out of my car, a piercing scream tore through the stormy night. A sound so raw, so full of devastation, that it sent a shiver down my spine. It was coming from inside.
Thunder rumbled above, trying—and failing—to drown out her cries.
Advi.
My chest tightened.
I moved without thinking, my feet carrying me toward the entrance. The door was unlocked. Careless. How could they be so irresponsible? I pushed it open, stepping inside, but the house was empty. No guards. No staff. No family.
And then—another scream.
A sound so gut-wrenching that it made my breath catch. If anyone else had heard it, they would have broken down on the spot. It wasn’t just grief—it was the sound of someone being ripped apart from the inside.
I ran.
My heart pounded against my ribs as I stormed through the silent hallways, following her cries. The house was dimly lit, shadows stretching against the walls, but I didn’t care.
And then, I saw her.
She was on the floor, her frame shaking, hands gripping the fabric of her dress as if it was the only thing holding her together. Her face was hidden behind a curtain of hair, but I could see it—the way her shoulders trembled, the way her body rocked with every sob.
"I lost my dad..." she whispered, her voice breaking. "I lost my dad..."
A sharp pain twisted in my chest.
I flinched. The words hit me like a physical blow, knocking the breath out of me.
For a moment, I just stood there, frozen, watching her unravel right in front of me. And for the first time in my life, I didn’t know what to do.
I wanted to go to her. I wanted to hold her, tell her it would be okay, even if I knew it was a lie. But I hesitated. She was too lost in her grief, too shattered to notice anything else. And I…
