𝑺𝒂𝒇𝒆 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏

chapter 1

Tere sath sath aisa koi noor aya hai...

Chand teri roshni ka halka sa ek saya hai..

teri nazron ne dil ka kya jo hasar..

Asar yeh hua...

ab inme hi doob ke ho jaun par....

Yahi hai dua......

♡♡ ♡♡ ♡♡ ⁠♡♡ ⁠♡♡ ⁠♡♡ ♡♡ ⁠♡♡ ⁠♡♡ ⁠♡♡ ♡♡ ♡♡

Every morning followed the same pattern, like clockwork. Shreyansh Singh Yaduvanshi’s day began while the city was still submerged in darkness. Rising at 3 a.m. was no chore for him; it was as automatic as breathing, as essential as his next heartbeat. Darkness was his realm, calm and predictable, a place where control ruled, and that was exactly how he liked it.

The  glow of his laptop screen illuminated the quiet luxury of his penthouse. High above the city, his empire stretched out beneath him.

Wealth and power didn’t merely shape his life; they were woven into its very fabric. Each possession in his space—a rare painting here, a handcrafted sculpture there,was the mark of exclusivity, a reminder that his world was different from everyone else’s. In his hand was a cup of coffee, brewed from beans worth more per ounce than gold.

The world outside, the one most people lived in, was a mess of emotions and entanglements. And Shreyansh singh yaduvanshi had nothing to do with those things. Emotions, he believed, were distractions, weaknesses that would compromise his focus and shatter his discipline.

From an early age, he had learned to set aside feelings, to harden himself into the person he had become-the man who didn’t flinch, didn’t hesitate, and didn’t break. His path was one of pure clarity and ruthless purpose, and he had no plans of changing it.

By 5 a.m., he was already deep into his workout in his private gym.Lifting, pushing, and powering through each set, feeling the controlled strain of his muscles with every rep. He used this time to channel whatever tension he carried, grounding himself in the burn. People called him cold, dangerous, ruthless—words that suited him well, like an armor he wore proudly.

Being Shreyansh Singh Yaduvanshi, the man who inspired fear and respect, required ironclad discipline and unyielding strength. He’d worked hard to build a life so remote, so impenetrable, that no one dared to even try to break through.

After a hard workout and a brisk shower, he dressed sharply in a tailored suit, a subtle hint of cologne the only softness in his look. Slipping behind the wheel of his Rolls Royce, he navigated through the quiet, rain-drenched streets. Even the early-morning traffic seemed to sense his presence, giving way to him as though his power radiated beyond the confines of his car.

The rain was pouring down in sheets, It was the kind of weather that made everyone else retreat, made them shrink under umbrellas or dash for shelter. But a girl was standing by the side of the road, drenched, holding an umbrella over two children huddled beneath it. She should have been another face lost in the city’s rain, another stranger he’d drive past without a second glance. But something about her stopped him in his tracks.

Standing there in the rain, she was like a vision, an ethereal beauty that seemed almost untouched by the storm raging around her.

Her ocean-blue eyes held him captive. They were framed by long lashes that blinked against the raindrops clinging to them, droplets clinging to her lashes like tiny diamonds.

Strands of dark hair fell across her face, damp and curling slightly from the rain. They framed her soft features, sticking to her cheeks in a way that only made her look more vulnerable, more breathtaking. She brushed a few locks back, her slender fingers brushing her forehead, unaware of the man watching her with a look that was as close to awe as he had ever allowed himself to feel.