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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I slowly opened my eyes, feeling disoriented as I took in my surroundings. The cold, hard floor beneath me made my entire body ache. As I sat up, I rubbed my sore muscles, wincing at the discomfort. My gaze fell on the bed across the room. It was perfectly made, without a single wrinkle or crease, and I knew immediately that he hadn't returned last night.
The room around me was grand and intimidating, with walls painted in a deep, dark gray that bordered on black. The furniture was sleek and modern, with accents of gold and silver that hinted at luxury and power. The opulence of the room was a stark reminder of his status as the King of Rajasthan, but it did little to comfort me. Instead, I felt small and vulnerable, my mind flooded with the events of the previous night. I had believed I was safe with him, that he would always protect me, but now I wasn't so sure.
Struggling to shake off the lingering sense of unease, I got to my feet and glanced back at the bed. I couldn't bring myself to lie on it, not after everything that had happened. I needed time and space to process everything, so I headed to the bathroom, hoping the warm water would help clear my mind.
When I emerged, feeling slightly refreshed, a gentle voice greeted me. "Ma'am, breakfast is ready. Sir has already left for the office."
I nodded, still overwhelmed by the grandeur of my new surroundings. "Okay, thank you," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.
As I dressed, I found myself standing in front of an enormous walk-in closet, far bigger than anything I had ever seen. It was even larger than his parents' palace. Rows of exquisite outfits lined the walls, each more stunning than the last. Shelves were stacked with glittering jewels and accessories, and the floor was covered in plush, soft carpeting. It was overwhelming, like stepping into a dream world I never imagined I would be a part of.
How could one person possibly need so many clothes? I wondered as I carefully touched the delicate fabrics and intricate embroidery. The craftsmanship was incredible, the beauty of each piece undeniable. Finally, I chose a simple yet elegant sari, the silk soft and luxurious against my skin.
I wandered through the palace, my feet carrying me from one magnificent room to the next. The opulent chambers, grand halls, and intricately designed gardens were stunning, each one more impressive than the last. But despite the splendor, I felt a growing sense of loneliness and unease. This place, so full of grandeur, felt empty without maa , papa and the duo and ... him.
One room in particular captivated me - the Library. Rows upon rows of books stretched towards the ceiling, their leather-bound covers worn with age and filled with wisdom. The air was thick with the scent of parchment and knowledge, and I felt like a child in a treasure trove, eager to explore.
As the day wore on, I found myself lost in the pages of a dusty old book, but my thoughts kept drifting back to Abhimaan. I wondered what he was doing, if he was thinking of me too. The silence of the palace was deafening, and with each passing hour, I grew more anxious. No message came, no sign of when he might return.
Eventually, I found myself sitting on a plush couch, mindlessly flipping through TV channels when suddenly a breaking news alert caught my attention. The anchor's grave expression filled the screen as he delivered shocking news.
"Rajveer Group, one of the largest conglomerates in the country, has filed for bankruptcy overnight," the anchor announced. "Sources reveal that the company's financial troubles were worsened by a series of questionable business deals and alleged embezzlement."
My eyes widened in shock as the anchor continued, "But that's not all. Rajveer himself is facing multiple charges, including fraud, money laundering, and... attempted poisoning of the King of Rajasthan."
Attempted poisoning? The words sent a chill down my spine. My mind raced back to his confession about the drink at the reception, to Abhimaan's strange behavior that night, the way he had behaved . It all started to make sense.
The anchor's voice pulled me back to reality. "Rajveer is currently missing, and authorities have launched a manhunt to apprehend him. The King's office has released a statement assuring the public that an investigation is underway and that those responsible will be brought to justice."
I sat there, frozen, as the news report continued, my mind overwhelmed with questions. How could someone stoop so low?
Unable to stay still, I paced back and forth in the grand hallway, trying to reach his parents, but they brushed off my concerns, insisting he was probably just working late. But I couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.
Just then, a soft voice broke the silence. The assistant entered, his face a mix of concern and hesitation. "Ma'am, I bring news from Sir," he began, his voice measured. "He is... detained at the moment, but he will return to you soon."
"Where is he?" I asked, my voice firm but laced with a hint of desperation. "Is he safe?"
The assistant's expression turned sympathetic, but he hesitated, glancing around the room as if searching for an escape. "Ma'am, I... I'm not at liberty to disclose that information," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Sir has instructed me to keep his whereabouts confidential."
"Please," I begged, my voice cracking with emotion. "You have to tell me something. I'm his wife. I have a right to know."
The assistant's eyes filled with regret, but he shook his head. "I'm sorry, ma'am. My hands are tied. I assure you, Sir will contact you when the time is right."
With that, he bowed and quickly left the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the echoing silence of the mansion.
The hours ticked by, each minute feeling like an eternity. I waited, my heart heavy with worry, my mind racing with thoughts of Abhimaan's safety. The grand surroundings that had once seemed so impressive now felt like a gilded cage, trapping me in my own anxiety.
Finally, in the middle of the night, the door creaked open, and my heart skipped a beat as Abhimaan appeared. His figure was a stark silhouette against the fading light, but as he drew closer, I saw it - blood dripping from his hands, staining his clothes with crimson.
I tried to call out to him, my voice barely audible. "Abhimaan..."
He halted, his gaze fixed on me, his eyes haunted by a darkness I had never seen before. For a moment, we just stared at each other, the only sound the soft dripping of blood onto the marble floor.
"Mayura," he finally whispered, his voice low and strained, "I... I need to clean up."
His gaze evaded mine, his jaw clenched, his eyes flashing with a mixture of pain and guilt.
