CHAPTER 6: Part 1 (HUKUM SA?)
~ MRITYUNJAY (POV) ~
The sun, a bloated orange, finally pushed itself over the horizon, casting an ugly, yellow light across the cityscape.
Another day, another sunrise. The birds, those obnoxious creatures, were already at it, their incessant chirping a rude alarm clock.
The air hung heavy with the promise of another day of the same—the same traffic jams, the same soul-crushing routine.
Even the dew on the grass seemed to mock me, sparkling with an almost cruel indifference. I closed my eyes again.
Then I heard footsteps, a rhythmic thud against the floorboards that seemed to echo through my skull.
Who on earth would dare to invade my sanctuary at this ungodly hour?
Suddenly, I felt icy droplets on my face, and I jolted awake, my heart hammering against my ribs.
My eyes flew open, and there she stood, bathed in the ethereal glow filtering through the window—Ishika, my little rabbit, looking like a dream in a white saree.
She tilted her head, her brow furrowed in concern, as if sensing my alarm.
"Is something wrong?" she whispered, her voice a silken thread against the morning stillness.
I shook my head violently, my breath catching in my throat.
The sight of her, here, in my room, at this hour... It couldn't be real.
It felt like a fever dream, a desperate hallucination conjured by a mind starved for love.
She reached out, her fingers tracing the line of my jaw, her touch sending shivers down my spine.
"You look troubled," she murmured, her voice laced with concern.
I closed my eyes, the scent of her, an intoxicating blend of jasmine and sandalwood, swirling around me.
This couldn't be real. It couldn't be...
I blinked, disoriented. I reached out a trembling hand, tracing the delicate curve of her cheek.
"Ishika?" I whispered, my voice hoarse with disbelief.
She smiled, a radiant, breath taking smile that melted away the last vestiges of doubt.
It was the most captivating smile I'd ever seen, a smile that could melt glaciers and mend broken hearts.
"Did I wake you, sleepyhead?" she whispered, her voice a melodic chime.
I blinked, disoriented, still half asleep.
"Ishika? What... what are you doing here?" I stammered, my voice thick with sleep.
She giggled, a sound that was pure sunshine.
"Where else would I be, Mrityunjay?" she said, her voice like the softest caress.
"Don't you remember? We got married yesterday."
The world tilted on its axis. Married? We were married? The memory flickered back, a hazy montage of vibrant colours and joyful laughter.
The temple, the priest's chanting, the feel of her hand in mine. It was all there, vivid and intoxicating, yet somehow... distant. Like a beautiful dream I was struggling to grasp.
"Get ready now, everyone is ready to go," Ishika urged, her voice laced with a playful impatience.
"Where?" I asked her, bewildered.
"On our honeymoon, of course!" she chided playfully, poking me in the ribs.
"Hurry up, or the kids will start crying."
"We have kids?" I asked her, my confusion mounting.
She giggled, a sound like wind chimes. "Bhabhi's kids, silly! You remember, the ones who kept trying to steal your pagdi during the ceremony?"
I blinked, trying to piece together the fragments of this surreal memory. "Pagdi?"
She chuckled, pulling me closer. "Don't you remember? You looked so handsome in that pagdi. You almost looked like a prince."
I finally managed a weak smile, the absurdity of the situation slowly dawning on me. "A prince, huh? Well, I am the king of Rajasthan."
"The most handsome king," she declared, her eyes sparkling.
"Ab chaliye bhi, sab intezaar kar rehe hai. (Now come on, let's go. Everyone's waiting.)"
As she pulled me towards the bathroom, I couldn't help but feel a strange sense of peace.
I was married to Ishika. We had a family.
"Okay, okay, I am going, but first, I think you are forgetting something."
"What?" she asked, backing away from me, her eyes wide with playful mischief, I trapped her between myself and the wall, my hands gently framing her face.
"This," I whispered, leaning in close.
Our lips met, a soft, tentative touch. It was like coming home, like finding the missing piece of myself.
The world faded away, leaving only the warmth of her lips against mine, the intoxicating scent of her hair, and the overwhelming feeling of being utterly, completely, irrevocably in love.
I felt a wet, sticky tongue licking my face, and I jolted awake.
Saber, my mischievous pet tiger, was licking my face with enthusiastic abandon, his tail thumping a happy rhythm against the floor.
I chuckled, wiping the drool from my cheek.
"You little rascal," I muttered, scratching him behind the ears. "Almost scared the life out of me."
Saber, seemingly satisfied with his morning ministrations, purred contentedly and nudged his head against my hand, demanding more affection.
I sighed, a genuine smile finally gracing my lips. Even if it wasn't real, the dream had left a lingering warmth in my heart.
I glanced at the clock. It was 6:30 AM.
"You want to go on your run, huh? Go back in the garden, I'll take you out in a minute," I said to Saber, and he jumped enthusiastically, disappearing through the balcony with a graceful leap onto the tree.
He was gone in a flash, off to explore the garden.
I shook my head with a smile and looked at the dress still clutched in my hand. It was the first time in a while I'd slept so soundly.
Her scent... It lingered, a ghost of jasmine and sandalwood, and it really made me sleep. I stood up, a lingering warmth spreading through me. Time to get ready.
~ AUTHOR (POV) ~
The cavernous office lounge, a space reserved for the elite few within Mrityunjay Industries, was hushed.
Plush leather sofas lined the perimeter, while a gleaming chrome bar gleamed invitingly in the center.
Karan, or rather, as he was known here, Vikram, barely registered the chatter. He was lost in thought, twirling a silver locket between his fingers.
Inside, a faded picture of Avani, his first love, stared back at him.
Suddenly, memories flooded back: their laughter, stolen kisses under the stars, the way her hand fit perfectly in his.
Then, the tragedy – Avani's death, a mystery that had haunted him for years.
He remembered the deep sadness that followed, threatening to consume him.
He had joined Mrityunjay Industries, a sprawling conglomerate, not just for the lucrative position.
Chirag, his old friend from his military days, had urged him to join.
They had met during a covert operation, Chirag as a seasoned military officer and Karan as an undercover agent.
The mission had been a blur of adrenaline and danger, culminating in an explosion that had cost Chirag his left hand.
Haunted by the incident and disillusioned with the military, Chirag had resigned.
Karan, too, had left the military soon after, his own disillusionment stemming from disturbing discoveries about certain government operations.
They had both sought refuge in the corporate world, their pasts a shared secret, a bond forged in the crucible of danger and disillusionment.
Now, he needed to build connections, to infiltrate the inner circle of this powerful company, hoping to uncover the truth behind Avani's death.
He suspected foul play, a suspicion that had fueled his relentless pursuit of justice.
Then came Aabha. Their marriage was arranged, a pragmatic decision made by their families.
Yet, Aabha, with her infectious laughter and boundless optimism, had slowly, painstakingly, healed his broken heart.
She had given him Aarav, a son who brought sunshine into their lives.
But even now, years later, Avani's ghost lingered. A fleeting memory, a familiar scent, would suddenly transport him back to the past. He felt a pang of guilt.
He loved Aabha deeply, truly. Yet, sometimes, late at night, he wondered if he'd ever truly move on from the past, from the unanswered questions that gnawed at him.
"Vikram, you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost," Chirag, the security chief of Mrityunjay Industries, said, snapping him out of his thoughts.
Chirag, a man of few words and a watchful eye, was one of the few people Karan truly trusted.
"Just thinking, long day," Vikram forced a smile.
Chirag exchanged a knowing glance with Kartik and Agastya, the other two executives present in the lounge.
They were unaware of the hidden pain he carried – the pain of a love lost, a life forever changed, and a relentless pursuit of the truth, all while navigating the treacherous waters of corporate espionage and the murky depths of the underworld, a past that he was desperately trying to leave behind.
"This is becoming a bloody farce!" Chirag, erupted, his voice cutting through the low murmur of conversation.
Chirag owed his life to Mrityunjay, a debt he intended to repay with unwavering loyalty.
He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, frustration etched on his face.
"The woman simply vanishes! Not a single trace. The security footage... gone. Poof! Like magic." He slammed his fist on the table, making the glasses rattle.
"This isn't some child's game, Mrityunjay is depending on me!"
Karan reached out, placing a comforting hand on Chirag's shoulder. "It's alright, Chirag. We'll find her. We always do."
Chirag looked at Karan, a flicker of gratitude in his eyes. "Yeah, right."
Chirag's loyalty to Mrityunjay was absolute. Little did Chirag know that his investigation was being subtly sabotaged?
Vikram AKA Karan, under the guise of a loyal employee, was quietly interfering with Chirag's inquiries.
After all, the girl Mrityunjay was so desperate to find was none other than Vikram's own younger sister, a secret he guarded fiercely.
To Be Continued...