"𝘽𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙏𝙬𝙤 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙨"
𝗛𝗮𝗻𝗻𝗮𝗵, still haunted by her past, finds herself in the Raizada household, where she encounters -𝗥𝘆𝗮𝗻 a carefree and vibrant soul with a passion for painting. Despite her initial reservat...
Ryan sat in his room, the evening light filtering through the blinds, casting shadows on the walls. The silence in the house felt heavy, almost oppressive, as he stared blankly at the notes scattered across his desk. The words on the pages blurred together, meaningless, just like the countless hours he'd spent trying to understand them.
His mind was elsewhere, lost in a haze of frustration and confusion. He knew the results were bad, but he hadn't expected the crushing weight of disappointment that now sat in his chest. Every missed opportunity, every night spent avoiding his studies, now came back to haunt him.
A sudden, sharp knock on his door pulled him from his thoughts. The mary's voice was soft, almost hesitant. "Ryan, your father wants to see you in the study."
The study. The very mention of it sent a chill down Ryan's spine. That room held memories-none of them good. It was a place where he'd been lectured, criticized, and compared to others who were deemed better than him. It was a place he avoided whenever he could, and now he was being summoned there.
With a heavy sigh, Ryan stood up, his legs feeling like lead as he made his way down the hall. The door to the study was slightly ajar, and he could hear the low murmur of his father's voice on the phone. Ryan hesitated for a moment, then pushed the door open and stepped inside.
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[Ryan's POV]
I felt the tension in the air before I even stepped foot inside the study. It was a suffocating, heavy presence, thick with the weight of expectations, disappointment, and a kind of anger that I knew all too well. Vikram Raizada was seated behind his massive mahogany desk, his face a storm cloud of barely contained fury.
I had barely closed the door behind me when he threw a stack of papers across the desk at me. They fluttered to the floor, spreading out like a fan of failure.
"What is this, Ryan?" His voice cracked like a whip, sharp and unforgiving.
I didn't need to look at the papers to know what they were-my latest exam results, or rather, the lack thereof. The words 'fail' were probably plastered all over them, each red mark a testament to how far I'd fallen from the pedestal my father had placed me on, from where Rohan still stood, shining like the golden boy he always was.
"Do you have any idea how much shame you've brought to this family?" Vikram continued, rising from his chair and coming around the desk. He towered over me, his fists clenched at his sides, every inch the powerful, intimidating figure he had always been.
I kept my gaze steady, refusing to look away. I could take it, I told myself. I'd taken worse from him before.
"You're a disgrace, Ryan," he spat, the words dripping with venom. "A failure. A loser."
The words stung, but they didn't surprise me. They'd been coming, brewing under the surface since the day I was born, always there, waiting for the moment I'd inevitably stumble and fall.
