Nandini Verma was 18 when she penned her first story, a tale of passion, betrayal, and revenge. It was a masterpiece, poised for publication. But on the night she was to share her brilliance with the world, tragedy struck. Her abusive father, a figu...
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Morning had barely begun, and I was already in a foul mood. She hadn't come to the mansion like she did every day. The drive here felt emptier, and it irked me more than I wanted to admit.
By the time I reached the office, the frustration was bubbling under my skin, threatening to explode. I was staring at the paperwork, not really seeing it, when Rakshit walked in. He didn't even wait for a greeting before he started on me.
"Well, well, well. Look who's sulking," he said, dropping into the chair across from my desk with a smirk that made me want to punch it off his face.
"Rakshit," I warned, not in the mood for his antics. But of course, he ignored me.
"You know, for someone who's supposed to be the big bad ruler of the underworld, you're acting more like a lovesick puppy. Where's your precious little swan, hmm?" he teased, leaning back and crossing his arms as if settling in for a show.
"Not in the mood, Rakshit," I growled, shuffling through some papers just to have something to focus on besides his irritating face.
"Oh, I can tell," he chuckled. "You're all grumpy because your morning wasn't blessed by the sight of her, right? Should I call her for you? Or maybe I should just let her know her absence is causing a kingdom-wide crisis."
"Rakshit," I snarled, my patience thinning by the second. "Do you have a death wish?"
"Not particularly," he said with a mock-serious face, "but I'm willing to risk it just to see you like this. It's too entertaining. Yash, honestly, you need to chill. She'll be here soon enough. She's probably just taking her time to make you sweat a little."
I clenched my jaw, trying to tune him out, but it was impossible. He had a way of getting under my skin like no one else.
"You know," he continued, "it's cute, really. You're sitting here, brooding like some tragic villain because she's not around. I should take a picture-"
"Get out," I snapped, finally looking up to glare at him.
He laughed, a full-bellied laugh that echoed around the room. "Alright, alright, I'll stop...for now. But seriously, Yash, you need to get a grip. You're letting her get to you too much. She's got you wrapped around her little finger, and I can't decide if it's hilarious or terrifying."
"She doesn't have me wrapped around anything," I gritted out, but even I didn't believe it.
"Oh, really?" Rakshit leaned forward, his grin widening. "Then why are you so worked up? Admit it, you're head over heels for her, and it's driving you crazy."
I didn't respond, just narrowed my eyes at him. Rakshit knew exactly what he was doing, pushing all the right buttons to get a reaction out of me.
"Fine, keep denying it," he said, standing up and heading for the door. "But just know, every time you get this worked up, it only proves my point. You, my friend, are in deep. And it's only going to get worse from here."
