[ This Book is under editing]
Niharika Verma is a stunning semi-classical dancer who wants nothing more than to travel the world, but the shackles of her dreadful past keep her grounded. On the other end, Asia's well-known businessman and CEO of Ra...
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Author's POV
Maanveer sat on the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees, fingers clenched together so tightly his knuckles turned white. The room was dimly lit, shadows stretching across the walls, mirroring the turmoil inside him.
His mind was at war with itself.
He should not care. He had convinced himself of that a thousand times. And yet, the moment Anushka told him he misunderstood her, he couldn't help but drown in guilt.
"I hate you."
Her words echoed in his mind, taunting him, clawing at his conscience.
Did she really mean that?
Why did it bother him so much?
He scoffed, shaking his head. He was being ridiculous. He had no reason to feel guilty. He had spoken the truth-hadn't he? She had helped Priya run away. She had used his family's money to shop without a second thought.
His chest tightened, the guilt creeping in like an unwelcome guest.
No. He wasn't wrong. He couldn't be.
But then... why did he feel like he had been?
For the first time in a long while, uncertainty gnawed at him.
He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. Apologizing-the very thought of it was foreign to him.
He didn't do apologies.
But tonight, something inside him told him that maybe... maybe he should.
"She is different."
Anushka's words resurfaced in his mind, along with the memory of her saying that Niharika hadn't bought a single thing for herself.
"She refused to take anything, Bhai. She is not like others. You need to give her a chance."
His fingers curled into a fist.
Had he been mistaken?
Had he-
No.
He shook his head, as if trying to force the thoughts away.
It didn't matter. He had already drawn a line between them. He had told himself not to cross it.
