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Author's POV
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The night was darker than usual, as if the universe itself was conspiring to cloak the events that were about to unfold. The towering, decaying structure on the outskirts of Jodhpur stood like a forgotten sentinel of a bygone era. Its windows were shattered, the walls crumbling with age, and vines snaked their way through cracks, reclaiming the building for nature. The few working streetlights cast a sickly yellow glow on the building, the flickering bulbs giving the place an eerie, haunted aura.
As the heavy iron gates creaked open, a bitter wind swept through the compound, stirring the dry leaves that littered the ground. The guards stationed at the entrance stiffened, their eyes sharp and alert. Each of them was armed, their hands resting on their weapons, ready for any sign of trouble. They had been warned—tonight was no ordinary night, and the visitors they were expecting were not to be trifled with.
The low hum of an approaching engine shattered the stillness, and the guards straightened even more, exchanging wary glances. A sleek, black luxury car emerged from the shadows, its glossy surface reflecting the sparse light. The car's presence was a statement of power and control, its purring engine silencing the murmurs of the night.
The vehicle rolled to a smooth stop just outside the entrance, and for a moment, the world held its breath. The driver's door opened first, and a man in a tailored black suit stepped out. Siraj, the loyal and ever-efficient aide, moved with purpose, his eyes scanning the area one last time before he approached the back door. With a bow of respect, he opened it, his face pale and taut with the weight of responsibility.
From the car, two women stepped out, their movements as graceful as they were deliberate. The fabric of their gowns shimmered subtly under the dim light, the delicate embroidery catching the fleeting gleam. Yet there was nothing delicate about their presence. They were like forces of nature, unstoppable and fierce.
Ruhanika Rajput and Sanyukta Rajput.
The daughters of the Rajput clan. Feared. Respected. Unforgiving.
Their arrival was like the calm before a storm. The guards dared not make a sound, their gazes fixed straight ahead as the sisters approached. The air around them seemed to thicken, every step they took echoing ominously on the cracked pavement. Ruhanika's eyes were alight with a simmering rage, her expression an unreadable mask, but the energy radiating off her was unmistakable. It was the quiet fury of a woman who had been wronged one too many times.
Beside her, Sanyukta's posture was as rigid as her resolve, her face a mirror of her sister's. She carried herself with the poise of a queen, but beneath her composed exterior lay a predator—calm, calculating, and lethal.
