In Love With War Lord

CHAPTER 1- LAST 150 DAYS

Sahiba's pov:

The phone pressed cold against my ear, my father's voice a booming storm across the miles. "Why did you leave your job, Sahiba?! Don't you know responsibility? Bills don't get paid with dreams!"

I gritted my teeth. "Dad," I pleaded, "I want to be a writer. You know, whenever I lose myself in a book, it's like..." My voice trailed off, searching for the right words. "It's magic."

"Magic won't put food on the table, and there are a million dreamers out there, all starving," his voice softened slightly. "Have you thought about that?"

"I'll be a bestseller, Dad. The most celebrated author in India!" I declared, forcing a newfound confidence into my voice.

A long sigh escaped the phone. "Fine, do what you want. But listen carefully, Sahiba. You have 150 days. If you haven't achieved some semblance of success by then, it's Sumedh."

Sumedh. The name sent a shiver down my spine.  A notorious playboy, the last man I'd ever want to marry. "But Dad, he's....( he must be sleeping in another woman's arms at this moment even after being engaged to me )  I swallowed my words

"No buts, Sahiba. Sumedh is a good boy from a good family. You could do worse."

"Fine!" I snapped, unable to hold back my frustration.

Slamming the phone shut, I tossed it onto the light blue couch of my serene white and beige apartment in Mumbai's suburbs. This was supposed to be my heaven, my launchpad to literary stardom, yet here I was, feeling defeated before I even began.

Two hours had bled past since the call. My coffee mug sat forgotten on the nightstand, its contents now lukewarm.  I sat on the edge of my bed, laptop open on my lap. The cursor blinked mockingly, a taunting reminder of my blank page.

Each keystroke I attempted felt like a betrayal of my grand declaration. Frustration gnawed at me. Where was the magic now? With a defeated sigh, I slammed the laptop shut, burying my dreams under a wave of self-doubt.
A sudden, earsplitting crack of thunder jolted me out of my despair. Rain lashed against the window, a symphony of nature's fury. That's when I noticed it - a flickering light emanating from the bathroom. Sparks danced like fireflies caught in a whirlwind.

Trepidation gripped me. My apartment building was hardly known for its electrical stability.  With hesitant steps, I approached the bathroom, the cold floor sending shivers down my legs. Reaching for the white door, a thought struck me. Safety first. I scurried to my bedside table drawer, retrieving a pair of electrical insulating gloves.

Taking a deep breath, I gripped the doorknob and twisted. My eyes widened against the sight that greeted me. The bathroom seemed to hum with an otherworldly energy. Steam billowed from the tub, momentarily obscuring the figure standing in the center.  A jolt of fear shot through me, cold sweat prickling my skin.

"Have I finally gone mad?" Am i hallucinating  ? the thought echoed in my mind.

Before I could retreat, a large hand grasped my wrist. I whirled around, ready to scream, but the words died in my throat. A man stood before me, stark naked and dripping wet. His body, sculpted like a work of ancient Greek art, was breathtaking.

He pressed a finger on my lips, silencing my impending scream.  Then, in a language that sounded utterly unfamiliar, he spoke.

"How are you doing, mortal?" ( In  Ancient greek)

My brow furrowed. 'What the hell is he saying?' I thought

"Why would you summon me?" ( Ancient greek)

He tilted his head, witnessing the confusion etched on my face. He repeated the phrase, this time in flawless English, the accent strangely melodic. "Why would you summon me here?"

'Summon? Was this some elaborate robbery scheme? Gangs had started getting really creative these days', I thought, knitting my brows further.
'Is this some kind of code language?'

"Answer me, mortal!" His voice grew impatient.

'Mortal? The situation was getting weirder by the second. Was this some kind of cosplay gone wrong?'  'His expressions look serious'  I mused, still scrutinizing the situation

'Did gangsters start cosplaying now?'

Suddenly, he seemed to realize the hand on my mouth and quickly removed it.
Snatching myself from his grasp, I blurted out, "Who are you?" Fear couldn't stop the traitorous glance at his sculpted body. It truly was a sight to behold.
He smirked, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Ares," he declared, his voice resonating with a power that seemed to vibrate through the room

Sahiba "............"

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A/N hey guys hello, i was so nervous writing it (i still am) please tell me you thoughts about the chapter.

I purposely kept it short , hope you all like it , please give me some feedback

Thankyou

Will update soon 🥰 🥰 🥰 🥰

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