ARJUN- The Monster [BOOK 1]

3.Nitya

I woke up to the loud ringing of my phone, tossing and turning in bed as I tried to locate it. Finally, I held it to my ear and answered, "Hello?"

"Nitya! Where are you? Why weren't you picking up or responding to my texts?" came my mother's furious voice from the other end. Reality hit me then. I wasn't in Bangalore with my family; I was in Mumbai, sleeping on a stranger's bed.

Swiftly, I checked the time. It was half past eight, which meant I was late for dinner. "Shit, shit, shit!"

"Ma, I'm sorry I fell asleep. I'm fine. I'll call you later, okay? Right now, I have a meeting with him," I said, hanging up before hearing my mom's response.

I didn't have time to get ready for dinner, but I couldn't go in my airport outfit either. Men in the mafia didn't like clumsy women; they preferred their ladies to be properly groomed and clad in a saree.

I have been preparing for this moment all my life. Wearing a saree was nothing new, but draping it alone without my mother's help was hard, especially since I was already late.

Still, I managed to drape the deep green saree around me gracefully while neatly braiding my hair to one side. I didn't bother wearing any makeup except for lining my eyes with Kohl and applying lip balm. I wanted to impress this 'bhai.' After all, he was going to see me for the first time as well. If he didn't like my appearance, he would send me back, and my family would be doomed under the control of Raj.

Somehow, I found the dinner room, dimly lit and surprisingly empty. I tried calling out for Remya, but no one answered.

Helplessly and aimlessly, I wandered the hallways of the mansion until I reached a dead end—a huge mahogany door. Assuming it led to the living room, I opened it without knocking.

The room was dark, with hardly any light except for the streetlight coming from the window. Through the window, I could see the silhouette of a man standing, staring outside with his back turned towards me, a cherry red flicker close to his lips, smoke billowing out.

I wanted to cough at the cigarette smoke, but I held it in. I couldn't make out many features, but I knew exactly where I had landed myself.This place looked like my father's study.

And inside, the man was obviously the 'bhai,' my future husband.

"You are late," his voice, smooth as silk, echoed across the dark room, making me jump in fear.

"I'm sorry. I fell asleep and didn't notice the time," I tried speaking as softly and femininely as possible, making myself sound submissive. Men liked women like that around here.

"Hm. Close the door and come in," he instructed, still not facing me.

I gently closed the heavy door behind me, robbing the room of its little source of light. Now, the only source was from the street through the window.

I took slow but steady steps towards his table and stood in front of it. My father had warned me once not to cross more than that; it was like intrusion into the man's privacy.

He looked at me over his shoulders and then turned back. I tried to make out how he looked, but it was impossible with the lighting and how fast he was. But he did have a very sharp jawline and a slight stubble. His back was broad, and he was tall. He was in good shape. I was relieved that I wasn't going to marry an old obese man like Anand.

"In what hopes have you come from Bangalore to my house?" he asked, a reality check for me.

"In hopes of being your bride. I'm here to fulfill the duty of the eldest daughter of the Arora family," I answered, truthfully. What else did I know about this guy? Nothing!