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 surveyed the opulent ballroom, my gaze inevitably gravitated towards Mayura. She stood there, a beacon of beauty amidst a throng of admirers, her presence radiating an almost ethereal glow. The murmurs and whispers of the crowd seemed to converge on her, their collective attention a palpable force. A surge of possessiveness coursed through me, and with determined strides, I made my way towards her.
Without uttering a single word, I closed the distance between us and wrapped my arm around her waist, drawing her close to my side. The gesture, though subtle, was unmistakable—a silent declaration of ownership. The atmosphere in the room shifted, as if holding its breath in reverence of the silent assertion of my power. Heads bowed, acknowledging the unspoken hierarchy that I commanded.
Mayura’s eyes met mine, and for a moment, I was ensnared by her gaze. She was breathtakingly beautiful, her smile a radiant beacon in the dimly lit room. A pang of pride and protectiveness surged within me, a fierce conviction to keep her safe and close. It dawned on me with startling clarity: she was mine. My wife. The very thought was both exhilarating and daunting.
I leaned in, my voice a low whisper meant only for her ears. “You’re mine, Mayura. Mine to protect.” Yet, her attention remained fixed on the sudden reverence of the crowd, her focus elsewhere.
As I engaged in conversations with my business associates, my gaze was inevitably drawn back to Mayura. She was effortlessly charming those around her, her grace and warmth making her the center of attention. Just as I was about to conclude my discussion, she leaned in close and whispered in my ear, “I want to go to Maa.”
A moment of hesitation gripped me. The thought of letting her out of my sight filled me with unease. Nevertheless, I nodded in acknowledgment, watching as she excused herself and moved toward Maa.
Despite my efforts to stay engaged in the business discussions, my attention was constantly diverted to Mayura. I observed her interacting with Maa and noticed a sudden shift in her demeanor as her parents approached. Her body language tensed, a flicker of distress crossing her face. Maa intervened swiftly, guiding her away from her parents with a comforting presence.
It was clear that Mayura’s relationship with her family was strained, and their presence troubled her. But why? I couldn’t ignore the knot of curiosity and concern tightening in my chest.
The evening continued, but my focus remained on Mayura. As I glanced up, I saw her walking hand in hand with Rajveer towards the dance floor. A jolt of anger and jealousy surged through me. Rajveer, the notorious playboy with a reputation for reckless charm, was now holding Mayura’s hand. The sight was enough to ignite a storm of possessive fury within me.
Rajveer’s hand rested possessively on the small of her back, his fingers tracing patterns that sent a shiver of discomfort through me. Mayura appeared oblivious to the potential danger. My instincts screamed at me to intervene.
