2. THE DANCE OF DESTINY BEGINS

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Avya

"Behave today, Avya," my father, Dr. Abhir Rawal, said.

We were currently sitting in the high-class Rosetta lobby. The dining services here were the finest of their kind.

"She will behave, won't she, Avya?" my mother, Dr. Ruchi Rawal, added.

"The fuck I will," I replied. My mother gasped at my language, and my father shot me a glare.

What do they expect me to be—a mute doll who just accepts whatever they decide to do with my life?

The door to the room opened, and the waiter arrived for our orders.

"We'll give the order once our guest arrives," my father said, his tone calm and measured like a doctor's.

The waiter glanced at my mother and me, then nodded. "Okay, sir," he said, leaving the room and the silence behind.

"As I was saying, you will behave. The Singhanias have already decided on the marriage, and you are here just for namesake."

Namesake, my foot. I knew why the Singhanias chose me for their eldest son. No, it was their eldest son who chose me for himself and decided.

I didn't know what twisted fantasy this was, but I knew enough to conclude it was for revenge. My heart tugged at the thought.

"I'm not marrying strangers, Mr. Rawal," I said. I had long since stopped calling him Papa, long since the accident three months ago.

"He's not a stranger, is he?" Mrs. Rawal taunted. "After all, it was you who wreaked havoc in his life."

"It was a fucking accident," I shouted, my defense contradicting my conscience, but it was the only way to preserve my sanity.

"It wasn't just a fucking accident, Avya. You broke the law by drunk driving and fucking killed someone."

My heart skipped a beat. I didn't kill someone. I didn't mean to. It was just an accident.

"I didn't kill someone. Stop saying that. It wasn't intentional."

"Are you even listening to yourself? How absurd you sound with that statement."

"It's not absurd," I reassured her, and myself. "It's the intentions that matter. I didn't intend to kill anyone, and that's the truth."

"Yet you did, didn't you?" my dad interrupted the fight between my mother and me.

"I didn't want to, I- swear," my voice broke on the last words.

They were at it again, both of them, accusing me of killing someone when it was an accident.

But you did kill someone, my subconscious mocked. Shut up, I screamed in my head.

I was fucking pissed at the situation.

I scraped the chair and went out of the room, away from the suffocating air.

Heading towards the nearest balcony I, looked out at the outside world—the busy traffic, high towers, and fancy surroundings.

"Ma'am, are you okay?" one of the waiters who was passing by asked.

"Fuck off, waiter," I said, my tone already pissed off. I hated it when people showed their fake concern.

I saw the look of shock pass across his face. Yeah, I knew he was judging me hard at that moment, but I didn't care.

I walked back into the room and sat back in my chair.

I gulped down a glass of water.

"Throw a tantrum again, and the consequences won't be in your favor," Mr. Rawal threatened.

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