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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As soon as the announcement echoed through the hall, declaring Yashwardhan as the "Ruler of the Underworld," my heart dropped. My feet froze to the ground, and for a moment, the world seemed to blur around me. Ruler of the Underworld? King? The titles reverberated in my mind, each one striking like a blow. How could this be real? The man I had feelings for, the man I trusted, was the kingpin of the mafia, not just any mafia but the mafia. The revelation felt like a cruel joke, and I was caught in the middle of it.
He hadn't exactly lied to me, but he'd kept this monumental truth hidden. A wave of conflicting emotions crashed over me-anger, disappointment, and an odd urge to laugh at the sheer absurdity of my situation. I had been so naïve, so utterly blind to the truth. My emotions had led me straight into the heart of danger, into a reality far darker than any fiction I had ever conjured up in my mind. But I couldn't let it show, not here, not now.
I forced myself to walk forward, though each step felt like I was sinking deeper into quicksand. My mind raced with thoughts, and it felt like I had unwittingly walked straight into one of those mafia love stories I used to read and write , except now, I was the protagonist. We approached the grand throne-his throne-and something inside me told me to stop. He needed to live this moment in his own way, without my interference. I couldn't be the reason for a misstep in this delicate situation.
When I stopped, Yashwardhan looked at me, his face a mixture of shock and something else-fear, maybe? He should be scared. I couldn't believe how well I had come to understand him, how I could read every nuance in his expressions. With a tight smile, laced with the anger and disappointment I couldn't fully mask, I encouraged him to continue. He ascended the stairs, and I watched as he addressed the crowd, his voice carrying authority and an edge that I hadn't fully heard before. This was a different Yash, the one who ruled with fear and power.
His words were sharp, almost like a warning, and when his eyes found mine during his speech, he made it clear-I was his. "Whoever dares to touch what's mine will meet a painful end," he said, and a shiver ran down my spine. This was the dark side of Yashwardhan, the side I had never seen, the side that terrified everyone in this room. But what struck me more than anything was the fact that I wasn't panicking. I was standing in the middle of a mafia ball, surrounded by dangerous people, and yet, my mind wasn't screaming for me to run.
The tension in the air was palpable. Everyone around us was scared, too scared to even breathe loudly. But instead of fear, I felt... numb? Maybe I hadn't fully processed everything, or maybe, somewhere deep down, I had always known there was more to him than he let on. Still, this was too much, too fast, and yet, I couldn't crumble-not here, not in front of him, and certainly not in front of all these people. This was his domain, and now, it seemed, I was part of it. But how did I fit into this world of power, darkness, and fear?
Yashwardhan descended from the throne, and as his eyes met mine again, I knew that he could see the storm of emotions brewing inside me, even though I tried to hide it. The air was thick with unspoken words and unanswered questions, but for now, I had to play along. There would be time to confront him, to demand the truth, but until then, I had to survive this night here -in his world.
