Meanwhile...
At Inigma, Vidyut's private villa, he and Ayansh sat together on the sleek leather couch in the living area, calmly indulging in cold scoops of mint chocolate chip ice cream.
Dusk had descended, casting long shadows across the city.
As twilight deepened, the chill in London’s air intensified—but Vidyut and Ayansh, like frozen statues, remained unbothered by the biting cold. Their presence, much like their personalities, carried the chill of distant glaciers.
Even in this freezing weather, they consumed ice cream with an eerie calm—biting into it with firm, unaffected expressions, as though their taste buds were as numb to sensation as their hearts.
Just then, a sleek black sports car glided to a halt outside the Inigma villa.
Stepping out gracefully, Maya lifted her eyes toward the villa, her gaze tranquil and unreadable. The architectural design of the mansion mirrored its name—enigmatic and grand. Beautiful on the outside, but concealing layers of secrets within. Its structure gave no hint of where its foundation lay.
A team of elite security personnel in tailored black suits flanked the perimeter—armed with AK-47s, positioned like silent sentinels.
Drawing a quiet breath, Maya began walking toward the entrance, only to be halted by a guard.
“Miss, may I ask who you are? Do you have an appointment or know someone here?”
She paused, raising her lashes to meet the guard’s gaze with poised stillness.
His voice was flat, devoid of warmth or hostility—strictly professional. His expression remained unreadable.
Maya instantly recognized that he wasn’t part of the Singhania family's household staff. All of them knew her well. These men, however, were Vidyut’s private guards—discreet, detached, and fiercely loyal. It explained his unfamiliarity.
She was about to respond when hurried footsteps interrupted.
Sanjeev rushed toward them, breathless, his coat flapping in the breeze.
Bent over and panting, he waved the guard off with one hand, his voice strained.
“S-she’s with us—step aside!”
The guard instantly stepped back, obeying without protest.
After catching his breath, Sanjeev turned to Maya, remorse thick in his voice.
“Lady Boss! I deeply apologize for the delay. Please forgive me—I should’ve been here to receive you!”
His words, though respectful, made Maya’s brow arch slightly.
She hadn’t informed anyone she was coming. Her arrival was unannounced. In such a case, whether Sanjeev greeted her late—or not at all—was of no consequence.
Offering a soft smile, she replied gently,
“Mr. Sanjeev, please—there’s no need to apologize. You weren’t at fault. And kindly, don’t call me Lady Boss.”
Sanjeev froze for a moment, stunned by the softness in her tone.
Maya’s voice was smooth, low, and elegant—each word flowing like the delicate notes of a piano. Even though he’d heard her speak countless times over the past six months at the Singhania estate, her voice always left the same impression: composed and captivating.
Recovering, he said earnestly,
“Lady Boss, if you stop me from using that title, the Boss himself might cut out my tongue. And please, don’t address me so formally—it’s just Sanjeev.”
YOU ARE READING
His Enigmatic bride
Mystery / ThrillerVidyut Singhania is a name that strikes fear across the globe. Known as a ruthless devil, his mere presence sends shivers down spines, including those of his own family. But after a catastrophic car accident leaves him in a coma, everything changes...
