This story will take a turn when our cute handsome business man will turn into a dangerous ...... unknowingly he kept it a secret and she finds it out
a man cloaked in the shadows of his past, his heart encased in frost. Yet, amidst his icy demeanor...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Adrian Singhania
The roar of my bike echoed through the empty streets as I sped away from Shayantika's house, the cold morning air biting against my skin. I didn't even know why I had gone there last night—why I had risked everything just to be near her. But now, as I raced back home, my mind was a storm I couldn't silence.
The picture.
Riya.
Shayantika.
It wasn't just a coincidence anymore. It never was.
I parked my bike in the garage and slipped inside the mansion before anyone could notice I had been gone. The house was quiet, except for the distant hum of the morning staff preparing breakfast. As I made my way to my room, my mother's voice called out from the living room.
"Adrian, where were you this early?"
I exhaled slowly before turning around, forcing a casual smile. "Just went for a ride."
Her eyes studied me, sharp and knowing. "A ride... or something else?"
I didn't answer. I couldn't. Instead, I muttered, "I need some rest," and walked past her.
But the moment I shut my door, I knew sleep wouldn't come. Not when my mind was drowning in questions.
Who was Riya to me?
Why did Shayantika look exactly like her?
And why did I feel like I was standing at the edge of a truth I wasn't ready to face?
Neither did Shayantika look like the girl from the picture, nor did Rian look like me. But then... what was the mystery? Why did everything feel so blurry? It was like pieces of a puzzle scattered before me, yet none of them fit together. No matter how much I tried, the answers remained just out of reach, slipping through my fingers like sand.
"Adrian! Come for breakfast," Mom's voice called from downstairs, pulling me back to reality.
I sighed, rubbing my temples before heading out of my room. The morning passed in a haze, my mind still wrapped around the conversation with Shayantika. Everyone at home had decided to go to the temple, a tradition we'd kept for years.
The temple was always a place of peace for us, with its grand architecture and serene atmosphere. It was built high on a hill, overlooking the city, and the long staircase leading up to it always made you feel like you were ascending to something higher. We prayed for prosperity, good health, and peace—but today, as I walked up those same stairs, my heart felt heavy.
My thoughts kept circling back to the strange sense of déjà vu that plagued me whenever I saw Shayantika, and the feeling of a presence I couldn't quite place, lingering in my dreams. The whole time we were at the temple, I couldn't focus on the rituals, the incense, or the chanting. I felt disconnected from it all, like something in me was calling out for answers, but they weren't there.
