Hii guys...Moon here...am very new to Wattpad and this is my first story too..so am quite nervous...I want your support guys...
All I can say that this is totally a different manan story...some characters and incidents are inspired by real-life... t...
Thanks for all the support in the previous chapter. I hope you guys will stick with me till the end.😊
Now without wasting more time, I am here, presenting you the next chapter of my story "Reason Behind My Existence".
#happyreading
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Same day; around 7:30 am; MUMBAI;
A young woman in her mid-twenties, dressed formally, knocks on a black mahogany door. After a brief wait with no response, she knocks again. This time, sighing dejectedly, she pushes the door open and sets her foot in a pitch-dark space. Muttering to herself and reminding herself not to trip over anything, she feels her way around. Soon, her hand lands on a cool surface, and she finds a mini remote. She presses a few buttons, and the blackout curtains open, illuminating a lavish, black-themed master bedroom.
The room boasts a wall of expansive windows that offer a view of a garden, a mere part of the huge 'Malhotra Estate' with its greenery luxuriant and inviting. The palette within the chamber is distinctly masculine yet subtle, a harmonious blend of blacks, greys, and whites. The walls are painted in a shade of subtle grey, complemented by furniture of white and accents of black that serve as decorative elements. A plush rug, its texture invitingly soft, lies upon the dark wooden floor, its presence adding warmth to the space.
At the heart of the room stands a bed of considerable size, its presence commanding. At its foot rests a divan, versatile in its use, serving as a couch when the need arises, with two wooden side tables. The room, though minimalist in its approach to furnishing and decoration, exudes an air of sophistication. Yet, there is an underlying sense of danger that permeates the atmosphere, a feeling that everything within the room is a reflection of its owner's strength, authority, and unwavering confidence. It is, in essence, a physical manifestation of the individual who claims it as their own.
Bedroom...
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The young woman soon discovers the owner still concealed in slumber, his form nearly buried by a mound of duvets and blankets. She arches an eyebrow in ironic acknowledgment and, adopting a melodic, sing-song cadence, coos, "Sirrrrr, rise and shine."
Her efforts continue until the sleeping man is on the verge of irritation.
The owner, a figure in his mid-20s, lies amidst the comfort of his king-sized bed, his eyes determinedly shut against the invasion of all of a sudden light and sound. In a voice thick with sleep and irritation, he mumbles, "Just leave me be."
"I will, but only once you're up and about," she retorts.
"I won't," he insists.
"Then I'm not going anywhere. Shall I brief you on today's agenda right here? May I begin?"
