Book One of "The Roses" Series
✿PINK ROSE✿
Vikrant was a man shaped by shadows-ruthless, calculating, and unyieldingly cold. In his world, softness was a weakness, and mercy was a foreign concept. He had climbed the ranks of the underworld, his name...
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I stumbled downstairs with my half-opened eyes. The afternoon nap felt heavenly after coming back from college. It's almost evening now. I sat on the living room sofa with a scowl. The whole house knows about my annoying mood after an afternoon nap. The house was quiet, save for the faint clatter of utensils in the kitchen.
I plopped onto the sofa with a scowl, feeling the softness of the cushions beneath me. I spotted the TV remote next to me, and a sly grin spread across my face. My fingers reached for it almost instinctively, and within seconds, I was lost in my comfort show, "Best of Luck Nikki." No matter how many times I watched it, the goofy antics and warm family moments never failed to brighten my mood.
After watching two episodes, I turned off the TV. Stretching out, I scratched my arms lazily, feeling the light prickle of sleep still clinging to my skin. As I got up from the sofa, I heard a series of noises coming from the kitchen, loud enough to pique my curiosity. Without a second thought, I followed the sounds and found my way there.
The scene that greeted me was nothing short of entertaining. Dad stood with his arms crossed over his broad chest, looking every bit the strict head of the family. Bhai, on the other hand, was kneeling on the floor, cleaning up a thick paste that had somehow spilled, making a mess of the kitchen tiles.
"Do it fast!" Dad scolded, giving Bhai a light smack on the head. I chuckled at the sight, but my laughter quickly caught their attention. Bhai shot me a death glare, and I instinctively scurried behind Dad, my only shield against my annoyed brother.
"What are you guys doing?" I asked, desperate to divert Bhai's wrath. "Maa has punished us," Bhai muttered, sarcasm dripping from his tone. "Yeah, we're suffering through it right now," he added with an exaggerated sigh. I bit back another laugh, revelling in the small victory of watching him struggle.
Our kitchen had always been Dad's domain. He was the master chef of the house, effortlessly whipping up delicious dishes that made everyone's mouths water.
Bhai, however, was still a rookie in the kitchen. He could handle basics like chai, coffee, and the occasional roti, curry, or rice.
"So, what's on the menu for dinner?" I asked, hopping onto the kitchen counter, my legs dangling off the edge.
Bhai shot me a sideways glance. "If I wasn't a vegetarian, I'd chop you up and cook you in spicy gravy," he grumbled, his face twisted in mock annoyance.
"Dadddd..." I whined, dragging the 'd' for dramatic effect. Dad, not missing a beat, snapped, "Shut up, Abhi!" Bhai's eyes rolled as I smirked.
"Need any help?" I offered, hopping off the counter, eager to be a part of the kitchen drama. Dad shook his head. "No, just keep an eye on this troublemaker," he said, giving Bhai another light smack on the head. I perched back on the counter, settling into my role as the self-appointed watchman.
The kitchen fell into an unusual silence that felt almost oppressive. I fidgeted a little, tempted to break it, but seeing Dad and Bhai's serious faces, I decided against it. I didn't want to accidentally disrupt their rhythm.
