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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I sat comfortably on my private jet, my mind at ease for the first time in days. The thought of seeing my Little Swan, Nandini, after two long weeks filled me with joy. Work had kept me away for longer than I had planned, but now I was returning two days earlier than expected. I could already imagine her reaction—those soft brown eyes widening in surprise, her lips curving into that shy smile I loved so much.
I leaned back in my seat, closing my eyes for a moment, already anticipating the warmth of her embrace.
But that peace shattered when my phone rang, pulling me out of my thoughts. It was Rakshit.
"Rakshit?" I answered, still calm, thinking it was some minor update. But what he said next ignited a storm inside me.
"Yash, your Little Swan is at the illegal race track.and it wasn't my fault. "
For a moment, I didn’t respond. I felt the ground beneath me shift. Illegal race track? I heard the words, but my mind refused to process them.
"What did you say?" I growled, my voice dropping dangerously.
"You heard me," Rakshit replied, his tone apologetic but urgent. "She’s in the riskiest one too. They’re talking about some bet about the loser going on a date and—"
That was all I needed to hear. My entire body tensed, fury coursing through me like wildfire. Without another word, I ended the call. My thoughts spiraled. My Little Swan, my Nandini, at an illegal race track? It was madness. She shouldn’t be anywhere near that kind of place. Who in their right mind let her get involved in something so dangerous? And what bet was Rakshit talking about?
I couldn’t waste another second. The jet was moving too slowly. Every second that ticked by was too long, too far away from her. I had to get to her—now.
I closed my eyes, concentrating, and in a blink, I teleported directly to the race track’s location.
The moment my feet touched the ground, I took in the sight around me. The air reeked of burning rubber and gasoline, and the noise of revving engines pierced my ears. It was a chaotic mess—screaming crowds, roaring engines, flashing lights—and at the center of it all, somewhere, was Nandini. My anger deepened.
I spotted the cars lining up at the start line. Without wasting a moment, I grabbed the nearest car—a sleek, black beast of a machine—and positioned myself in the race. My presence sent a ripple through the crowd. They didn’t know who I was, but they would soon learn.
No one touches what’s mine.
The engines roared as the race started. I pushed the accelerator, the car shooting forward like a bullet. I wasn’t interested in playing their games or abiding by their rules. I was here to win, to stop this madness, and to take my Nandini away from here—safe. Their cars swerved, trying to gain the lead, but they were no match for me. I barely needed to try. In no time, I overtook every single car, easily claiming the lead.
