In the vibrant city of Jaipur, a secret deal was struck between two worlds. Abhimaan Deep Shekhawat, the enigmatic King of Rajasthan, controlled the political and criminal underworld with an iron fist. His power was unmatched, his influence unparall...
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As I gripped the steering wheel tightly, a sense of liberation washed over me. The car's engine roared beneath my hands, and with each turn, each swerve, I felt an unfamiliar peace settling in my heart. For once, my mind wasn’t clouded with thoughts of my past, of the cold business deal that was my marriage. It was just me, the night, and the empty streets ahead.
Speeding through the city was my only escape. The faster I drove, the more everything else faded into the background. The pressure, the suffocating expectations, even the hollow words that Abhimaan had spoken to me earlier—they all became distant echoes, swallowed by the wind rushing past.
But as I glanced in the rearview mirror, my brief moment of tranquility was shattered. He was right behind me, his car a relentless shadow that wouldn’t let me go. I could feel the anger radiating from him even at a distance, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t care. Not now.
My eyes remained focused on the road, weaving through the sparse traffic with an almost reckless abandon. I didn’t know where I was going; I just knew I had to get away. Away from the mansion that felt more like a gilded cage, away from the man who saw me as nothing more than a pawn in his game. But as much as I tried, I couldn’t outrun him. At least he could have seen me as a person first before that person's daughter.
Suddenly, he pulled up alongside me, his face a mask of fury. Without warning, he reached over and flung open my door. Panic surged through me, but I didn’t let it show. I had learned long ago to hide my emotions, to wear a mask thanks to that person called my father . But then something in his eyes shifted. The anger melted away, replaced by something else—something that looked almost like concern.
For the first time, I saw him falter. His expression softened, and he reached out, not to grab me, but as if he wanted to comfort me. The gesture caught me off guard, and for a moment, I was too stunned to react. Was this the same man who had coldly laid out the terms of our marriage just hours ago?
He didn’t say a word. He just looked at me, really looked at me, as if he was seeing beyond the surface, beyond the emotionless mask I had perfected. There was a depth to his gaze that I hadn’t seen before, a mix of confusion, maybe even regret. Without a single question, he gently coaxed me out of the car and into his own.
I didn’t resist. I couldn’t. I was too drained, both physically and emotionally, to fight anymore. The adrenaline that had fueled my escape was wearing off, leaving behind a hollow ache in its place. The drive back was silent, but it wasn’t the same suffocating silence that had hung between us before. This was different. This silence felt like an unspoken understanding, a truce of sorts.
When we arrived back at the estate, he led me to my room without a word, his hand guiding me as though I were a lost child. The irony wasn’t lost on me . The room was just as opulent as the rest of the house, but it offered no comfort, no solace. Just a reminder of the life I had willingly stepped into.
