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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
One Month later
“Vikrant…”
“Mumma! Papa!”
“Don’t trust anyone,” Papa’s voice was strained, a warning laced with fear.
“Not even my business partner… not anyone,” his words cut through me, sinking deep into my mind.
“Take care of yourself… and Vyaan,” Mumma’s voice, so soft yet so broken, filled my heart with a pain I couldn’t bear.
“Mumma!” I called out, desperate to hold on to them.
“Beta, do you know how much your Mumma loves you?” her voice was fading, slipping away like sand through my fingers.
"I worked hard to make TechWave reach the top, and I trust you, my Vikrant, will take it even higher above the clouds.”
“This diary holds every strategy and secret about the company. It will guide you,” Papa’s last gift, his legacy now in my hands.
Every scene played out like a tragic movie, vivid and haunting. Mumma and Papa, so close yet so unreachable.
“Mumma! Papa!” I screamed, jolting upright, breathless. “Again a dream,” I muttered under my breath, wiping the sweat that clung to my face. I pushed the duvet away, feeling the dampness of sweat all over my body, my heart still racing.
I rushed to the drawer, yanking it open with trembling hands. My eyes locked onto the small brown diary that Papa had entrusted to me. I grabbed it, my grip tight.
I sat back on the bed, flipping through the pages for the hundredth time, each page whispering the same maddening silence, blank. Not a single word. Not a single clue.
I squeezed my forehead, my thoughts swirling in a chaotic mess. The diary, Papa’s last words, it all felt like an unsolvable puzzle, taunting me with its emptiness. The frustration bubbled inside me. In a sudden burst of anger, I kicked the table, sending the glass shattering to the floor, echoing the turmoil raging within me.
The shattered glass lay scattered on the floor, glinting dangerously. I noticed the red liquid slowly pooling beneath me, my own blood, dripping from a cut on my hand. I shook my hand, flinging off the blood. Anger and helplessness burned hotter. I grabbed the car keys from the table, gripping them tightly.
I sped down the deserted road, the moonlight keeping pace with me like a silent companion. The sky stretched above, dark yet adorned with countless bright stars, their glow a stark contrast to the emptiness around.
