BOOK 1 - 𝑨 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒃𝒔𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒅𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓.
𔓘 Can be read as a Standalone.
Yuvan Singhania was power draped in darkness-a billionaire heir with blood-stained secrets buried beneath tailored suits and ruthless...
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Myra POV :
Soon arrived at the front door as a female maid bowed slightly with a tray of water glasss.
I held onto one of them before sipping a bit of it and placing it back,"Chal ne!" (Com'on on) Archit pulled me closer walking towards the dinning room.
"Walk slower you jerk I still can't walk properly you fucking dickhea-" He placed his index finger over my lips,
"Shh my baby no cursing..." I glared at him as he gave me a pleading look whispering.
I scoffed at him before nodding my head, "Whatever!" He held out his arm as I held his forearm walking with him to see his family.. I spotted a grand hall where a middle aged man sitting, who is Archit's Uncle, saw him diverting his attention towards my presence he said—
"Oh, welcome my child" Archit's chahu ( uncle ) Abhiman uncle said waving at me, I responded back with my warm smile that could afford my fan-fuck-tastick features.
I had met his whole family once before—at our office Fashion Fall party where I worked as a fashion designer. Being one of the most recognized designers in the city, I was used to attention, conversations, people crowding around me with compliments and cameras flashing every few minutes. But his family had been different. Memorable.
Abhimaan uncle was exactly the kind of person who could make an entire room laugh within seconds. Loud, frank, endlessly teasing—he talked to everyone as if he'd known them for years.
But Yuvshekhar uncle…
He was nothing like him.
Even in a hall full of powerful businessmen and celebrities, he carried a presence that swallowed the air around him. Tall, sharp-featured, always dressed in dark, perfectly tailored clothes, he didn't need to raise his voice to command attention. People moved aside for him instinctively. His eyes were calm, too calm—the kind that observed everything without revealing a single thought.
He was the king of the underworld.
One glance from him was enough to make confident men straighten their posture.
And now, standing inside his mansion with Archit beside me, I felt that same intimidating aura wrap around the room again.
The marble floor echoed softly beneath my heels as I adjusted the edge of my outfit nervously. The house itself felt grand yet strangely cold, like every corner carried discipline.
Then he walked in.
Yuvshekhar uncle's steps were slow and measured. A black watch rested around his wrist, his sleeves folded neatly, and despite the faint silver in his hair, there was something dangerously sharp about him. Not loud-dangerous. Silent-dangerous.
