Story of a Rivalry of two political families, who fighting for rule. One rules over the more than half of the state and other own the power. But between their rivalry the one who is suffering is the daughters of the most richest family of the state...
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The next morning, sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, gently waking Tara. She stretched lazily, a soft smile on her lips as the memories of the previous day filled her heart. But when she turned toward the other side of the bed, it was empty. Her smile faltered slightly.
“Surya?” she called softly, her voice laced with sleep.
There was no response. Tara’s gaze fell on a folded piece of paper resting on the bedside table. She reached for it, her heart sinking slightly as she unfolded the note written in Surya’s bold handwriting.
Good morning, Tara.
I didn’t want to disturb your sleep, but an urgent matter came up, and I had to step out early. I’ll be back by the afternoon. Please don’t wait for me—explore the hotel or rest. We’ll leave for Rathore Mansion together later today. Take care of yourself.
Always yours, Surya.
Tara sighed, disappointment flickering across her face. She’d hoped to spend more time with him before they returned to the family home. Still, the tenderness in his words warmed her heart, and she resolved not to let his absence dampen her mood.
After freshening up and dressing in a simple yet elegant pastel pink suit, Tara decided to step out. She had no particular plan in mind, but the lush lawns of the hotel, visible from the balcony, beckoned her. Grabbing her dupatta, she made her way downstairs, her footsteps light yet purposeful.
The lawn was beautifully maintained, with vibrant flowers lining the pathways and the sound of chirping birds creating a tranquil atmosphere. Tara felt a sense of peace wash over her as she wandered, her fingers brushing the petals of blooming marigolds.
But her serenity was short-lived.
As she rounded a corner near the gazebo, her eyes fell on a figure standing in the shade. Her breath caught in her throat as recognition struck.
It was him.
Virendra Thakur.
Her sister Chandni’s estranged husband and Surya’s fiercest political rival.
He turned at the sound of her approach, his piercing gaze locking onto hers. Tara froze, fear coursing through her veins. He was a tall, imposing man with a demeanor that radiated control and power. His presence here was unexpected, and it filled her with unease.
“Tara Rathore,” he greeted, his voice smooth but carrying an edge that made her stomach churn. “What a pleasant surprise.”
“W-What are you doing here?” Tara stammered, taking a cautious step back.
Virendra’s lips curled into a smirk as he slowly approached her. “Relax. I’m not here to cause trouble,” he said, though the glint in his eyes suggested otherwise. “This is a public place, after all. Anyone can visit.”
