🛑MAFIYA'S ROYAL OBSESSION🛑 = 2
The sun was blazing in the scorching afternoon of Rajasthan. The golden sands of the Thar Mountains, stretching far and wide, seemed like a burning pan. A sob pierced the endless silence.
Nineteen-year-old Ishu, whose innocent and delicate complexion seemed unsuited to this harsh desert, ran with all his might. His soft, white feet sank into the hot sand with every step, slowing his pace. Beads of sweat slid down his forehead and into his eyes, but he had no time to stop. He wanted to run-far away, where no one could find him.
Just then, a heavy, authoritative voice echoed from behind, shaking the desert air.
"Stop, baby... this is no place to hide."
The voice belonged to Rudra Pratap Rathore. A name synonymous with fear and power in this Thar region.
Ishu's steps froze. When he looked back, his soul trembled. Dozens of black gypsies, kicking up dust, stood in a semicircle, as if a hunter had surrounded his prey. In the center of them stood Rudra-steadfast, calm, and dangerous.
Ishu was panting heavily, his chest heaving with fear and exhaustion. He had thought he would escape this captivity, but he was alone in this vast desert.
Rudra took a long, steady walk. The sound of the sand crunching beneath his boots became the thump of Ishu's heart. In the blink of an eye, Rudra wrapped his hand around Ishu's slender waist and held him in his steely arms.
"Leave me... let me go!" Ishu tried to scream, pounding his chest with his small hands, but his voice was muffled by fatigue.
Rudra leaned close to his ear and took a deep, calm breath. His grip tightened, but his tone was calm।
"Enough... calm down now. You've played enough," Rudra said, caressing her cheek. "Come on, let's go home now."
'Home'-for Ishu, the word no longer meant comfort, but rather a beautiful cage. Rudra practically picked her up in his arms and started toward the zip. Only Rudra's shoe prints remained on the desert sand; Ishu's footsteps had already been erased by the wind.