Armaan Rajawat stood at the pinnacle of the business world, a titan known for his ruthlessness and cold demeanor. The corridors of his vast empire whispered tales of his cutthroat deals and merciless strategies, earning him respect laced with fear...
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Enjoy the second chapter
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Niyati stood at the edge of the road, watching Pratiksha disappear into the distance. She sighed, realizing there was no point in waiting any longer. The street was unusually deserted, and there wasn't an auto-rickshaw in sight. She decided to start walking, hoping she might find some transport ahead.
She murmured to herself, "Hey Bholenath ji, aap na ek kaam kariye, koi aisa chamatkar kariye jisse mere pair wheels ki tarah ho jaye. Kam se kam ghar usi se chali jaya karungi." She looked up at the sky, her expression a mix of exasperation and amusement. "Kyuki auto toh yaha mujhe milne se rahi," she added, her voice carrying a dramatic flair as she pretended to cry.
{O Lord Shiva, please do one thing, do some miracle so that my legs become like wheels. At least I will be able to go home using it.} {Because the auto is not available to meet me here}
Resigned to her fate, she began walking again, the soles of her sandals slapping against the pavement. The evening air was cooling down, but her feet were already beginning to ache. She continued muttering to herself, her eyes scanning the road for any sign of an approaching vehicle.
After walking for a few more minutes, she suddenly heard the distant hum of a motorcycle engine. The sound grew louder, echoing down the empty street. A shiver of unease ran down her spine. Her thoughts immediately jumped to the worst-case scenario. *What if it’s a thief? What if someone’s coming to rob me?* She clutched her handbag closer, her mind racing.
The engine noise grew louder, and she felt her heartbeat quicken. Her feet slowed instinctively, and she cast a nervous glance over her shoulder. The narrow street was dimly lit, shadows creeping up the walls of the closed shops. She felt a bead of sweat form on her forehead.
Niyati quickened her pace, trying to keep calm. She glanced around, looking for an escape route, but the road was bordered by tall, silent buildings. Her breath caught as she heard the motorcycle come closer. Her pulse pounded in her ears, her mind whirling with fear.
Just then, she heard a cheerful voice call out, but she didn't recognise the voice because of the sound of that Bullet bike "Niyati, ruk jao! Kaha ja rahi ho itni raat ko?"
{Niyati, stop! Where are you going so late at night?}
Niyati clutched the pepper spray in her hand, her heart racing. Her senses were on high alert as she hurried down the dark, quiet street. Suddenly, she heard a sound behind her. Without thinking, she spun around sharply, her finger ready on the spray nozzle—only to be met by a familiar face.
“V-Vinay bhaiya! Aap?! Aap yaha kya kar rahe hai?” she screamed, her voice filled with shock and relief. She let out a shaky breath and quickly stowed the pepper spray back in her bag. “Aapne toh dara hi diya mujhe!” she added, still huffing, her heart slowly returning to its normal rhythm.
