_______________________________

कभी तेरे ख्यालों में खो जाएँ हम,

कभी तेरे होंठों की आग से जल जाएँ हम।

मोहब्बत में अगर तू मिल जाए सच्ची,

तो खुदा भी हमसे जुदा हो जाए हम।________________________________

A R O H I ' S    P O V

The R.S. Rathore Bhavan was decorated like a bride. Servants were busy in the preparations. The hustle and bustle of the Haveli added to its glory. The moment I entered, Kayra marched straight towards me. She was lecturing me about my carelessness.

Why did I forget my mobile? What if something has happened to me? What if some thief hurt me? What if some mafia fell in love with me at first glance and kidnapped me?

She kept scolding me and I kept ignoring her.

“Ruhi, tu meri baatein sun bhi rhi hai ya nahi!” she yelled at me, demanding my attention. I glanced at her with my pleading eyes— saying please leave me for today. But as always she looked at me like I had betrayed her. She gave me the look like she was my boyfriend whom I have cheated on with a rich man.

[Ruhi, are you listening to me or not?]

“Hey Bhagwan mujhe please aise dusht dosto se bacha lijiye jinhe meri baatein fizool lagti hain. Mai yaha tumhari fikr mein mari jaa rahi hu or tum ho ki kabhi apne maun vrat se bahar hi nhi aati.” She gestured towards the sky, folding her palms in prayer, showing as if she was really talking to God. She kept on her little banter. And I peered at her like I am done with you.

[Oh God please save me from these cruel friends who think I talk rubbish. Here I am dying in your worry and there you are not getting out of your vow of silence.]

“Mujhe pata hai tum meri fikr kar rahi ho par mai subah maa or bhaiya se bhi same lecture sun chuki hu. Aaj ke baad pakka nahi bhulungi.” I uttered in my exhausted tone. Her stern eyes melted into softness. And she returned to her usual self. For once I thought that she has become normal now but her next sentence made me realize how wrong I was.

[I know you are worried about me but I have already heard the same lecture from mom and brother. After today, I swear I'll never forget it.]

“Ruhi, Tum kya karogi agar kabhi sach mein koi Mafia tumhare peeche pad gaya toh. Mera matlab tum itni sundar ho. Aaj tak maine jitni bhi ladkiyan dekhi hain unme sabse khubsurat tum ho. Kya hoga agar sach mein books ki tarah tumse bhi koi jabardasti shaadi kare to. Ufff… kitna romantic hoga na.” She said in the most serious tone she could. I looked at her baffled. My face showed my disagreement. I mean she is in her senses! Right. Right?

[Ruhi, what will you do if some mafia falls in love with you? I mean you are so beautiful. You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen in my life. What will happen if someone forcefully marries you just like in dark romance books? Ufff… so romantic.]

“Kayra khubsurati hamare ander hoti hai. Or tumhe nhi lagta aaj kal tum kuch jyada hi mafia ke peeche pagal ho rahi ho. Aise logo se jitna dur raha jaye utna achha hai. Or tum bhul gayi mai kabhi shaadi nhi krungi. Mujhe shaadi ka koi shauk nahi hai. Or agar kabhi hui to Maa decide karengi. Mai nhi.”

I declared.

[Kayra true beauty comes from within. And don't you think nowadays you are talking about mafias way too much. It's better to stay away from people like these. And have you forgotten I'll never marry. And if someday it happens then Mom is gonna decide. Not me.]

Why would I marry someone? I don't need it. Marriage is for people who fall in love… who believe in love. And people like me don't fall in love. Kayra gave me the same expression. As if she knew what was going on in my mind. Like she could see the monsters inside me, I was trying to run away. But every single time I failed.

There are some things in life you can never control and in my scenario, I am bruised enough that it scares me to give my scars to someone else. I can't destroy someone's life in the name of marriage. Why would I disrespect this sacred thing, as pure as marriage? But one part of me wants to do the things I am most scared of. But I know even if I want something, mom will never approve it.

She will marry me on her own terms. And I'll have to follow her instructions. Because she is giving me food to eat and clothes to wear. So she is gonna decide everything for me. She gave me birth so she has all the rights to do whatever she wants to do with me. That's what she has taught me all my life. And I don't have a choice to agree or disagree.

“Ruhi, tu sach mein Gayatri aunty ki pasand se shaadi kar legi?” She looked at me seriously. Like she was waiting for me to say that it was a joke. But it wasn't. I never had a choice. And I'll never have one. Some people never have choices. They have to do whatever they are told to do. Not because they are weak. But because of the burden of favors they have carried their whole life.

[Ruhi, will you really marry with the choice of Gayatri aunty?]

Before I could answer-

“Arohi beta, tum kab aayi? Bataya bhi nhi.” Kayra's dadi, Surekha Singh Rathore, former queen of Jodhpur, asked in her authoritative voice. A voice that commanded obedience. Her name itself carried the power she holds.

[Arohi beta, when did you come? You didn't even tell me?]

Her nature has always been like that—

.

.

Commanding.

Dominant.

An independent woman, young girls look up to.

The way she dressed in silk satin saree, diamond jewellery enhancing her old-wrinkled face, glowing and looking younger than she was.

“Rajmata, bas abhi ayi hu. Apke pas aane hi vali thi." I said, walking towards her. I bent down to touch her feet and she patted my head giving me her blessings. Her cold aura turned soft the moment she heard me. She has always loved me like Kayra. Her voice always softens whenever she looks at me.

[Rajmata, I just came. I was just about to meet you.]

“Dekho na kuch bhi tayaari nahi hui hai. Par ab tum aa gyi ho na sab kuch ho jayega. Jara sumitra or meera ki madad karva dena. In nalayako se to koi umeed hi nhi ki jaa sakti. Kaam banane ki jagah bigadte jyada hai. Tumhare bina is Mahal mein shaanti ka to koi namo-nishan hi nhi rahta.” She uttered, looking at me with hopeful eyes.

[Look… the preparations are still not completed. But now you have come, everything will fall in place. Can you help Sumitra and Meera? No one can expect anything good from these idiots. They make the work worse than they do it. Without you there is not even a trace of peace in this Mahal.]

“Jii Rajmata, mai kara dungi. Aap jyada gambhir na ho. Hum sab milke sab kar lenge.” I replied in a gentle tone to ease the tension she must have been carrying on her shoulders. She nodded in approval. She held my hand taking me with her.

[Yes Rajmata, I'll help them. Don't worry. You don’t need to get too serious. We will do everything together.]

“Dadu, vo meri dost hai. Aap hamesha hi aisa karti hain. Mujhe bhi uske sath time spend karna hai.” Kayra opposed but dadi didn't even look at her. She signalled me to ignore her.

[Dadi, she is my best friend. You always do this. I also want to spend some time with her.]

She brought me to the guest hall where Sumitra Singh Rathore (present queen of jodhpur) and Meera Singh Rathore (Kayra's Mother) were sitting on the lavish sofa drinking their tea and discussing the pending arrangements. The moment they saw us, they looked at me with their affectionate eyes.

Kayra is my childhood friend. We have always been like sisters. We have done everything together. Going to the same school… same university. I have been coming to Mahal since I was 7 years old. Her family always cherished me like their own child. Everyone has always been so sweet to me.

“Arohi beta, tum aa gayi. Yaha aao mere sath beth kar chai peeyo.” Sumitra aunty said in her velvety voice. I nodded and went near her and sat on the sofa beside her. Sumitra aunty always maintained a calm and composed nature. A woman who does everything precisely. Observant. Controlled. Unreadable.

[Arohi beta, you came. Come here and have a cup of tea with me.]

Rajmata and Kayra sat on the front. Meera aunty shared every gossip of the town, making all of us laugh. Meera aunty, the cheerful one, always believed that life should be enjoyed. They chatted while sipping their tea. And I… I heard. A few giggles escaped my throat. Measured. Collected. I always knew when to speak and when not.

The R.S. RATHORE MAHAL, a mystery, was decorated for the biggest event of Jodhpur. Surekha Singh Rathore's 75th Birthday Celebration. After tomorrow. The whole Jodhpur was decorated with lights, diyas, and flower garlands of marigold and roses.

Everyone got busy with the arrangements after the tea-session. Me and Kayra helped the servants. We were so busy that we didn't even notice when the time went away. It was night now. Most of the things were done. The food arrangements will be finished tomorrow.

Me and Kayra were helping the butlers in arranging marigold flower garlands.  Everything was going well. Until I heard that one sentence. The sentence that made my heartbeat stopped. My hands still. My body trembled. Shaking with something unknown.

“HE IS BACK.”

And everything in me froze.

A U T H O R ' S    P O V

Villa di Serenità

Via del Lago, 12

52024 Loro Ciuffenna (AV)

Toscana, Italia

The villa, built on the hillside, stood tall. Like a shadow carved in stone. The walls were painted in a deep, matte black. Tall iron gates guarded the entrance, cameras and sensors showed nothing was unseen. Three rows of guards, large and muscular, spread across the villa with their weapons.

Their bodies seemed bigger than life.Their steps, heavy and deliberate, announcing themselves without words. Their fitted black suits emphasized their size and sunglasses on their eyes felt like a threat even at night.

Silent.

Oppressive.

Standing Still.

Their facial expressions, stern, unreadable, cold and menacing. Everything was under control. Inside the Villa everything was quiet.

A Deadly silence. No workers. No servants. Nothing.

Even the curtains felt scared to move. The whole villa was drowned in darkness. Suddenly the stillness of the moment was disturbed. Every single thing went alert. Nothing moved. Couldn't move.

The darkness of the villa now seemed dangerous. Cloaked in quiet menace. A man came down the stairs wearing nothing but a bathrobe. Opened. Wearing nothing inside. Body bare. He seemed like he didn't even care.

The Rudraksh chain rested on his chest with another thick black chain, hanging on his neck was maybe the only sacred thing he has owned in his entire life. The left part of his chest was filled with tattoos. Incomprehensible. No one knew what those shapes carved by ink described. His body filled with scars was telling of the battles he fought.

His broad frame was exposed in the open bathrobe.The unwrapped black bathrobe moved softly with the steps he took. His face looked nothing less than a Greek god. His face stood out in the darkness of the villa. His sharp jawline was sharper than a knife. His high cheekbones made his face look more lethal. Thick, well groomed eyebrows framed his eyes. He had a small cut on his left eyebrow, which could only be seen from close.

His eyes, those dark green eyes held something no one dared to meet. His eyes stood out the most in his facial features making him look perfect.

A ruthless perfection.

Glass of alcohol in his palm with fingers wrapped around a cigarette. He sipped the alcohol and inhaled the cigarette with every step he took. The thick cuban silver bracelet around his wrist shined in the dark. Another hand was holding the gun like he couldn't breathe without that thing. His fingers swirled like it was a small toy. Playing with that little dangerous thing.

The silken sash around his waist hanging, forgotten to be tied. He seemed unbothered. His steps took him towards the freezer in the kitchen. The glass in his hand was now settled on the counter top of the black lavished kitchen. He took the ice cubes from the freezer with his bare hands. His hands didn't flinch for once. Like he couldn't feel the coldness.

The ice cubes now dipped in alcohol. His hand reached the glass again. Fragile. Shining. Gleaming in the dark. Ironic to the surroundings. He drank the whole glass in one sip. Not caring about the burn in his throat. Like it didn’t affect him. The glass was kept on the counter top again. He opened the fridge filled with nothing but bottles of alcohol. Of every kind.

Expensive.

Limited edition.

Some half-empty. He took four bottles out.

His eyes bore on his filled palms. One hand had the gun, the other holding the glass bottle again. Looking at it with his cold, dangerous eyes, he filled it again. Drank again. The four bottles were now empty in less than thirty minutes. Another four were pulled out from the fridge. Three Hands were needed to hold the glass, gun and those bottles. But he only had two.

The gun was now tied to his bathrobe sash, hanging on his waist. Swinging. His feet started walking upstairs holding the top of bottles while exhaling the smoke from his mouth. Every moment, every drag of smoke he inhaled-exhaled, those bottles, the cold look, everything made him look exotic. Erotic in its own way. Something he didn't need to fight for. He had that naturally. His steps were heavy. He looked like a—

A sin wrapped in black fabric.

A predator.

A devil.

He entered the huge room drowned in darkness. There was no sign of any light. A gigantic lavish bed, black sheets on top of them, settled in the middle of the room. Moonlight was coming from the huge glass wall attached to the balcony.

A big bar was built in front of the bed containing most of the branded alcohol. Some of the empty bottles were abandoned on the counter top, while some were rolling on the cold floor. In one of the corners, glass pieces were shattered. Forgotten. Like someone has been so unfair to them.

The glass wall had a door opened to the balcony. A rocking chair was kept in the middle. He went straight to the chair and sat on it spreading his legs like he owned that space.

The world. As if he could crush anything and everything. His bathrobe was still unwrapped. His bare skin glowing in the moonlight amplified his gigantic built physique.

The bottles were kept beside the chair on the floor. He untied the gun from the sash and kept it on his thigh. Every moment held a warning. Calculated. Unpredictable. The cigarette was still glowing. Its red tip was still visible. He inhaled for a long time and rested his head on the headrest. His face was covered by the smog he exhaled.

Closed eyes, alcohol glass in his hand hanging on the armrest, the cigarette between his fingers, all things could anticipate he was an alcoholic.

An addict.

Someone needed to be scared of.

Someone who couldn't live without them. His addictions. The cigarette wrapped in drugs showed what kind of person he was.

After some hours, he stood up. Even after drinking for a whole day he was in his complete senses like he couldn't get drunk. Doesn't matter how much he drinks. He was observant. People kneel down even before he enters. He picked his mobile, kept on bed, which was the only thing in the room in a good condition. Flawless. Well-Kept. Perfectly preserved.

He dialled someone and uttered in his usual brutal voice- “Prepare the Jet.” His words— Merciless. His tone was vicious. Enough to instill the fear he lived on.

Only three words and the call was cut. Like the other person on the call knew what he meant. Only a few words were spoken. His commanding voice which could make anyone shiver left the impact in the surrounding more than it was needed.

His voice wasn't loud, it held warning. One single word could freeze the room in a second, yet it also could draw you in.

Magnetic. Dangerous. Yet attractive.

.

.

.

The man was none other than Advansh Rudra Singh Rathore.

A psychopath.

A ruthless heir of the American-Italian mafia.

A devil.

A monster who was known as AV in the underworld.

The only man who had both nationality Indian and Italian. But the question was, if he was an Indian how he became the lone heir of not one but two most powerful mafia syndicates, American-Italian?

.

.

.

.

.

R.S. RATHORE MAHAL

The hustle and bustle in the Rathore mansion could be seen from miles away. The servants were engulfed in the setup of the birthday celebration of the former Queen. But in the middle of all the noise there was only one thing that couldn't settle with the present moment.

Everyone could feel it. Even she could feel it. The way her body shivered with something unknown. She couldn’t predict the storm looming near her. A cold feeling seeped all over her body.

“Kayra, Mujhe azib lag raha h. Kya hum ye phoolon ki mala kal tayaar karein?” Arohi said in her distracted voice. She couldn’t describe what was happening to her. Everything was fine some moments ago.

[Kayra, I am feeling something strange. Can we finish these flower garlands tomorrow?]

“Are baba… thodi si hi to bachi hain. Kal phir hamein khaane ki tayaari bhi dekhni hai. Tum chinta mat karo tum time se ghar pohoch jaogi. Otherwise, yahi ruk jana. M dadu ki tumhari mom se baat karwa dungi.” Kayra uttered in her gentle tone. Unaware of the darkness growing in Arohi's body.

[Oh come on… there are only a few left. We have to finish food arrangements tomorrow. Don't worry, you’ll reach your home on time. Otherwise, you can stay here. I'll talk to dadi, she will inform your mother.]

“But…” before Arohi could say a single word, Kayra interrupted her, saying- “Ye but-vat chodo or jaldi jaldi haath chalao. Pata hai na badi maa kaam ke mamle mein kitni sakht hain.” Kayra finished, giving Arohi the same look Sumitra Singh Rathore gives when she sees with her stern eyes to make anyone feel scared, making Arohi chuckle at her best friend's not so good acting skills.

[Leave these buts and work fast. You know that Badi Maa is very strict when it comes to work related things.]

In the meantime, Arohi suggested- “Kayra thodi der ke liye apne secret spot par chalein. Hum dono ko time bhi mil jayega. Bacha hua kaam baad mein kar lenge pakka.” Arohi's face was suddenly filled with excitement. A warmth seeped in her body.

[Kayra why don't we go to our secret spot. We will enjoy some time together. Let's finish the pending work after some time, please.]

Kayra looked at her with boring eyes. She uttered— “Vo hamara nhi tumhara secret spot hai. Mujhe samajh nhi aata tumhe us jagah milta kya hai. Agar kabhi kisi ko pata chala na to dono jaan se jayenge.” She said in her not-so calm voice.

[It's not ours, but your secret spot. I just don't get it… what you find in that place. If someday, someone finds out about it both of us will be dead.]

“Please Kayra… Last time mai ek hafte pehle gayi thi. Pakka kuch gadbad nhi hogi. Itne saalo se nahi pakde gaye, to abhi bhi nhi pakde jayenge. Please.” Arohi pleaded in her softest tone, insisting Kayra. Kayra who was thinking logically a few moments ago melted just by her best friend's one word— Please.

[Please Kayra… last time I went there a week ago. I swear nothing will go wrong. We haven't been caught in all these years, and we won't be caught now.]

Arohi always held a soft spot in her heart. It was the only thing Arohi used to plead for. To ask for. The most calm and composed girl only asked for one thing from Kayra… Some time with herself on her favourite spot.

And Kayra as always couldn’t deny her. How could she? Arohi never stopped Kayra from taking her things. She gave her more than what she was capable of. Kayra only had to demand. Their friendship was based on emotions, loyalty and most important honesty.

A R O H I ' S    P O V

The Rathore Mahal has always been mysterious. Its secrets are still hidden behind the thick walls. I never felt attached to it. Even though it has been years. Something never settled well with me. These walls were always distant. But there was one thing which made me come here every other day.

The West Wing.

The only place of this Mahal which appeared calm. The calm which hides thousands of untold stories. Enigmatic. This place was abandoned when I was seven years old. Left alone…  away from the palace. A part which was completely detached from the mahal. No one has cleaned it for years.

It was locked. But with the help of Kayra, I made a small way to enter inside. A small hole in the wall covered by bushes of the garden. No one knew about this. Except me and her. West Wing was the most royal, antique and biggest part of the mahal. Kayra also didn't know the reasons why it was left like this.

We entered through the hole, crouching. Our clothes were now dirty… as if I cared. The moment I entered, a huge smile plastered on my face. There was a vast hall which had multiple rooms. But I only looked for one place. There was a huge, the most beautiful library I have ever seen in my life, in the largest room.

My feet couldn’t stop. I went to the library.  Forbidden for people like me. The biggest secret of my life. Kayra followed me like a small little puppy who was forced to dirty their clothes in the mud. And me… I gave her the most sheepish smile I could ever give to anyone.

I found the book I left on reading last time. On page 423. Ancient Romantic Novels. I had a thing for romantic novels. These books were written in the time of kings and queens and they were here hidden in this abandoned place. Their worth is only known to people like me.

A pinion was kept in between the pages as a bookmark. I didn't care about anything and sat on the dirty floor. Removing the dirt from the book cover, I started reading it and lost track of time. And my best friend always slept on the black cushion which was the only thing which was cleaner.

I cleaned it for her with my dupatta which was still left on it. She made me clean it every single time so she could sleep while I read. It was still there. I lied that it was lost because of heavy winds to dadi and my mom. And as time passed, I was in my own world. Where no one was allowed. After some time, we went back to the mahal.

A U T H O R ' S    P O V

In a matter of time, Arohi and Kayra got engaged in preparations. Out of nowhere, the servants stopped working. Everyone's steps halted. Surekha Singh Rathore with her daughter-in-laws, who were coming downstairs to finalize the plans for tomorrow, stopped in their tracks. Kayra's face held something unrevealed.

The calm air of the Rathore Mahal turned into something far more dangerous. Deadly Unsafe. Treacherous. No one could breathe. Each and every soul in the hall was looking at the entrance, except Arohi, her back facing the entrance. She was immersed in making marigold garlands thinking about something so deep.

Suddenly, someone's voice fell in her ears-

“He is back.”

And everything in her stilled. Her heartbeat stopped. She couldn’t breathe. She didn’t look back. She couldn’t. Sweat started forming on her forehead. She knew that something wasn't right. But she ignored her instincts. The way her hands trembled, holding her dupatta so tightly, told a different story.

Something Hidden.

A secret kept inside her heart which was locked years ago.

Something hard to forgive.

She didn't utter a single word. Didn't look back. Her back was still facing whatever stood at the entrance. But she didn't turn. Neither she wanted to.

“Advansh, mera… mera bachaa tu kab aaya. Tu… tune bataya bhi nhi. Hey Bhagwan… me… mera bachha… tu…tu…” Surekha Singh Rathore kept mumbling. Tears gliding her cheeks. Her face became wet. She couldn’t stop. The fresh tears kept trailing down her face. Her face was red.

[Advansh, my... my child you came.  You... you didn't even tell anyone. Oh God... my... my child... you... you...]

She ran with whatever strength she could find. Stumbling. She didn’t care if servants were seeing her like this. Her daughter-in-laws were frozen on their spot. For the first time in her whole life, Surekha Singh Rathore didn’t give a damn about her position. About the image royals have to maintain. She ran. Rambling whatever was coming out of her mouth.

The moment she reached she stood in front of her grandson after years.

After 13 years.

She has seen her grandson after 13 years. She couldn’t explain what joy she was feeling. Her hands trembled. She couldn’t touch him. Afraid what if it's just a sweet dream. Meera Singh Rathore dialled her husband's number and in less than ten minutes the complete Rathore family was standing in front of none other than-

Advansh Rudra Singh Rathore.

Rana Sa of Jodhpur.

The only heir and King of Rajasthan.

The only person whose place was still empty for years. His throne has been waiting for years.

Everyone was whispering. Staring at him like they couldn't believe in whatever laid in front of their eyes. It seemed like a mirage. Something beautiful for far, but lost when near. And Arohi state was not good either. Her back was still facing him.

But out of the blue, something changed. A little change of expression on her face. From shock to determined. Something she has been preparing to fight for years. And now is the time. She turned to Kayra, “Mujhe ghar jana padega abhi. Urgent hai. Maine assignments complete nahi kiye hain.” She uttered in her composed tone. At least she tried.

[I need to go home. It's urgent. I haven't finished my assignments.]

Kayra, who was still in shock, didn't even look at her. Arohi didn't wait for her acknowledgement. She could feel someone's eyes on her. But she didn't care. She walked towards the backdoor of the Mansion. As if the man standing at the entrance didn't even deserve to even feel her passing by.

She didn’t even give a single expression. Her face, neutral. She didn't look for any driver and kept walking till she came out of the place she felt suffocated in. She took a long breath. She kept walking, trying to breathe as fast as possible. Her body didn’t turn towards the house for once. Her feet dragged her away from the house as much as they could.

She didn’t realise how much time she was walking. And suddenly something hit her harder than she could imagine. Her feet stopped moving. Her steps halted. It has started raining. She didn’t even notice.

She was drenched. Her clothes stuck to her body. Water dripped from her hair. She looked around herself. Her eyes moved faster. She was in the middle of a barren road. Away from the city. Barefoot. With nothing.

No Mobile. No Money. Nothing.

The night was on its peak. The last time she saw the time it was around 10:30 pm. That means now it was more late than she could decipher. The moonlight, shining in its all glory, was the only thing she could see on the road surrounded by huge trees. She didn’t even know where she was. How far she has come from the Mahal.

She couldn’t even go back. She didn’t want to. She would rather choose being eaten by a wild animal than going back to that place. Now tears started coming from her eyes. One after another. She couldn’t stop. She sat under the shade of a huge tree and started weeping, clutching her dupatta so hard that her knuckles became white.

She hugged herself with her dupatta wrapped around herself like a cocoon and cried. As much as she could. She had to find some way. After some time, bracing herself, she chose to keep walking. Out of nowhere, a car came straight towards her. Its headlights blurred her vision. She couldn’t see. And then the car door opened and someone came out of it.

A man.

A silhouette of a man.

And the moment she saw with her blurry vision, her eyes went wide.

──────༻❁༺──────

Here is the 2nd chapter.

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