Game of Love - Destiny lies in the thrill of romance

Chapter 3

 Author's POV:

Diya and Mansi sighed in relief as they stepped out of the car, finally escaping the awkward ride with Vidyuth and Dadi's relentless questioning. The festival buzzed with colorful decorations, lively music, and the sweet aroma of street food, creating a vibrant and welcoming atmosphere that instantly lifted Diya and Mansi's spirits.

As they colorful lanterns and intricate rangoli designs illuminated the streets, accompanied by the sounds of traditional music and the laughter of families enjoying the festive activities, setting the stage for a day brimming with joy and cultural revelry. Entered the venue, the air was filled with the sound of chants and cheers. The crowd erupted in enthusiastic praise, chanting, "Rajveer Thackrey ji ki Jai!!" The crowd's fervent cheers, enthusiastic gestures, and beaming faces all pointed to the immense celebration of Rajveer's presence, making it unmistakably clear how highly he was revered.

As the cheers for Rajveer subsided, a new wave of excitement swept through the crowd, now chanting, "Vidyuth Baba ki Jai!!!" in a seamless transition of admiration from one revered figure to another. The reverence and admiration for him were evident as people expressed their respect and adoration.

As the Ganesh Chaturthi festival reached its peak in Mumbai.

The distant roar of an engine cuts through the hum of the gathering crowd, growing louder with every second. Heads turn, eyes squint, and a murmur ripples through the crowd. Suddenly, an expensive sports car—a sleek black Lamborghini—swerves into view, gliding smoothly along the driveway with the grace of a predator on the prowl. The car is a striking contrast against the traditional decor of the Ganesh Chaturthi event, but it fits Harshvardhan perfectly—bold, daring, and unmistakably modern.

As the car comes to a halt with a soft screech, the doors swing up like wings. Harshvardhan Suryavansh Thackrey steps out, one foot planted confidently on the ground, dressed in a finely tailored navy blue suit that clings to his athletic frame. His aviator sunglasses reflect the bright sunlight, adding a layer of mystery to his sharp features. He takes them off with a casual flick of his hand, revealing eyes that seem to twinkle with mischief. A slow, charming smile spreads across his face as he surveys the crowd. He moves with a relaxed, almost lazy grace, as if he owns not just the car, but the very air around him. With an easygoing swagger, he approaches a group of guests, greeting them with polite nods and firm handshakes. His charm is infectious; laughter follows wherever he goes, and even the most reserved members of the crowd find themselves smiling in his presence. Harshvardhan knows how to make an entrance—one that's as captivating as it is disarming. Prithvi greeted Harsh with a warm smile and a nod, signaling his acceptance. Rohan and Raghav, following suit, joined their brother in extending warm greetings to welcome Harsh. The atmosphere was filled with a sense of camaraderie and respect.Vidyut stood by, observing the interactions with a calm demeanor. He waited patiently as Harsh made his rounds, greeting everyone with a proud and satisfied expression which is rarely seen.  

After a while, the crowd was completely settled, another commotion stirs in the distance.

A low, rumbling sound emerges from beyond the gates, a deep, resonant growl that seems to vibrate through the ground. Everyone turns again, and a wave of anticipation sweeps through the gathering. Three black SUVs with tinted windows roll slowly into the venue, moving in perfect sync like a well-rehearsed dance. They pause at the entrance, engines still purring ominously. The doors of the lead SUV open first, and several bodyguards step out, scanning the area with vigilant eyes. Their movements are swift, precise, and almost military in their coordination. Then, the middle SUV's door opens, and a tall figure emerges—Agastya Suryavansh Thackrey. He steps out slowly, deliberately, dressed in a tailored black suit that fits him like a second skin. His dark hair is slicked back, and he wears dark shades that hide his eyes, but there's no mistaking the intensity radiating from him. His presence alone seems to command the very air around him to still. The chatter dies down instantly; the crowd parts without a word, as if compelled by some unseen force. Agastya walks with a calculated, measured pace, every step echoing his authority. His face is set in a cold, hard expression—jaw clenched, lips pressed into a thin line, a look that could cut through steel. He moves through the crowd with purpose, his gaze fixed straight ahead. The bodyguards flank him closely, creating a path wherever he goes. There is an unmistakable aura of danger and power around him, a presence that demands respect and inspires a hint of fear. Unlike Harshvardhan who is a lighthearted charm, Agastya is all business, all intensity. He doesn't stop to greet anyone, doesn't offer a single smile. Instead, he nods curtly at a few elders who dare to meet his gaze and makes his way directly to the front, where his family awaits. Prithvi, the only Nanda with the courage to approach Agastya, stepped forward and extended a handshake. Agastya, accepted it with the demonic dominance and a sly, perky smile which created a murmur in the crowd.