Historias de Drmatic

Dabi goes Missing 😰😱

A nick and judy story with drama love and a little bit of death

I am a YTer so follow me for more and stay tuned for more my channel is called Lupita Silva and I have 27 vid thx for reading

A short story with updated parts

Gujrat, Pakistan. A town where legacy doesn't die - it simmers quietly, waiting to rise again. Hasna Chaudhary Sikander was born with a name that once ruled the region. Her grandfather, Chaudhary Maqbool Sikander, wasn't just a minister - he was a legend. Three-time Nazim-e-Aala of the union council, unchallenged for fifteen years. People say the sun didn't rise in the valley without Maqbool's permission. But then he stepped down. Not because he lost. Because he chose silence over politics. And in his silence, a new name began to rise - the Haiders. Now, twenty-one-year-old Hasna lives in the ancestral haveli, walls lined with fading portraits and louder silences. Her family hasn't contested in years. Her father, a quiet businessman. Her uncles, comfortable in the background. But respect - that never left the Sikander name. Especially not in Gujrat. And now... another Chaudhary prepares to rise. Chaudhary Shehryar Haider, son of Haider Sr., is only twenty-four. Young, sharp, and ambitious. He wasn't raised to follow; he was trained to rule. And this year, he's stepping into the ring. Posters with his face are already plastered across poles, rickshaws, and chai dhabas. The air smells like politics - thick and heavy. Everyone expects a Haider vs. nobody election. Until fate flips the board. On a dusky afternoon in the old bazaar, Hasna's path crosses his. She's there for fabric. He's there to shake hands. But one gust of wind - deliberate by the universe - sends her dupatta flying... right onto Shehryar's shoulder. Their eyes lock. Her gaze - proud, unreadable. His - calculating, lingering a second too long. Two Chaudharys. Two legacies that were never meant to mix. But what happens when forgotten power meets rising ambition? He's the storm heading for the ballot. She's the silence that once ruled it all. But some silences... return with thunder.