Wounds of the Heart (दिल के घाव)💔

62

In the heart of Mumbai, the Khurana Industries building buzzed with a different kind of energy. Sunlight streamed through the expansive windows, illuminating the office of Leela Khurana, the company's formidable owner. Today, however, the air crackled with a sense of celebration.

Leela stood beaming, her eyes twinkling with pride, as she addressed a young man seated across from her. This man, Kunj, her adopted son, was no longer just a rising star within the company; he was the new CEO.

A thunderous applause erupted as Kunj finished his acceptance speech, his voice resonating with confidence and a hint of nervous excitement. Well-wishers from various businesses swarmed him, offering congratulations and eager to build new partnerships with Khurana Industries under its fresh leadership.

Finally, the whirlwind subsided, and Kunj found himself ensconced in his brand new office.

It was a testament to success – sleek, modern, and overflowing with bouquets of flowers sent by well-wishers. Every corner spoke of a new beginning.

As Kunj delved into a pile of files, his new secretary, a young woman named Priya, entered with yet another bouquet. But this one was different. Unlike the others in their vibrant hues, this one held a subtle elegance, filled with Kunj's absolute favorite flowers – lilies.

Their delicate fragrance filled the air, instantly calming his nerves.

Priya, ever observant, noticed a change in Kunj's demeanor as his eyes landed on the lilies. "Is this your favorite, sir?" she inquired, surprised by the shift in his expression.

Kunj's smile was genuine, devoid of the corporate facade he had worn all day. "Yes," he admitted, inhaling the calming scent. "These flowers... they have a way of grounding me."

Intrigued, Priya offered to find a vase for the lilies, placing them in a place of prominence on his desk. As she bustled about, Kunj couldn't help but wonder who had sent them. His gaze fell upon a small note nestled amidst the lilies. He unfolded it, his heart skipping a beat as he recognized the name scrawled across the page – Abhimanyu Raizada.

A wave of emotions washed over him. There was a flicker of surprise, a pang of annoyance that quickly morphed into a surge of anger. Abhimanyu, the man who had broken his heart five years ago, who had mocked his dreams and aspirations – what was he up to now? Did he think he could waltz back into Kunj's life with a simple gesture?

"No," Kunj muttered, his voice laced with steel. "Not this time, Abhimanyu. I've moved on. You're my past, and I refuse to fall for you again."

Taking a deep breath, Kunj closed his eyes, forcing down the storm of emotions. He reminded himself that he was a CEO now, a leader. Abhimanyu was a competitor, nothing more. He wouldn't let his personal feelings cloud his professional judgment.

With newfound resolve, Kunj opened his eyes, a steely glint replacing the warmth in his gaze. He would handle Abhimanyu, professionally and coldly. He would prove that Kunj Khurana, the CEO, was a force to be reckoned with, leaving behind the heartbroken boy Abhimanyu had known. The past was just that – the past. It was time to focus on the future, a future where success blossomed like the lilies on his desk, a future he was determined to build, on his own terms.
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London pulsed with a vibrant energy that day, a stark contrast to the serenity of their hotel room. Manik, craving a bit of off-duty revelry, announced, "Alright, boys! Time to hit the club. Let's show these Londoners how a real party goes down!"

A chorus of cheers erupted from his bandmates. They were young, energetic, and fueled by the adrenaline of their successful tour. Manik, their charismatic leader, reveled in their excitement. He was determined to leave a mark on London's nightlife scene.

Rohit, on the other hand, craved a different kind of recharge. He opted for the comfort of their hotel room, picturing a day spent lounging in his pajamas, catching up on some much-needed sleep, and maybe indulging in a movie marathon.

He flopped onto the couch, grabbed the remote, and navigated through Netflix. But despite the vast library of options, nothing seemed appealing. Boredom gnawed at him, a persistent itch he couldn't quite scratch.

He finally reached for his phone, scrolling through social media in a mindless attempt to distract himself. A sudden jolt of annoyance coursed through him as his eyes landed on a post featuring Rudra. There he was, arm slung around a glamorous new model, both of them flashing blindingly white smiles. The caption read, "Date night with this stunner! #FeelingLucky."

Rohit scoffed. So Rudra was already playing the field again, flaunting his conquests online. A wave of anger washed over him, a bitter aftertaste lingering from their recent argument. "Stupid show-off," he muttered, shoving his phone away with more force than necessary.

Any lingering ideas of a movie marathon vanished. Sleep, too, seemed like an elusive dream. Rudra's smug grin replayed in his mind, a constant irritant.

"Ugh," Rohit finally grumbled, burying his face in a pillow. "Why does it have to be him that gets under my skin every time?" He let out a frustrated groan. Unable to shake off his feelings of annoyance, he knew sleep would be a lost battle. Maybe a run around Hyde Park was just what he needed to clear his head and get rid of this Rudra-induced irritation.

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