CHAPTER 7: Part 1 (NO GOING BACK)
~ ISHIKA (POV) ~
Aanika's apartment was a whirlwind of colourful cushions, half-eaten takeout containers, and the comforting chaos of my best friends, the air crackled with Mehak's indignant energy.
Mehak, pacing like a caged tiger, was the picture of righteous fury, while Saanvi, ever the chaotic doctor, was attempting to apply a sheet mask while simultaneously scrolling through her phone, a feat that defied all laws of physics.
Aanika, trying to be the voice of reason, was mostly just adding fuel to the fire.
"Twenty dates?" Mehak screeched, her voice reaching a pitch that could shatter glass. "He's insane! That's not a request, that's a royal decree!"
"And nine lakhs for a shirt?" Saanvi choked, peeling the sheet mask off her face. "He's got to be kidding me! That's highway robbery!"
I sank deeper into the plush cushions, feeling a blush creep up my neck. "It's... complicated," I mumbled, trying to explain the sheer absurdity of my encounter with Hukum Sa.
"Complicated?" Mehak scoffed. "He's practically demanding you marry him in exchange for a stained shirt!"
"He wants to date me," I corrected, though the word felt ridiculous coming out of my mouth. "And he's... he's not like anyone I've ever met."
"He's the King of Jodhpur, Ishika!" Aanika exclaimed, finally putting down her phone. "Of course, he's not like anyone you've met! He practically lives in a palace!"
"But... he's also... kind of..." I trailed off, searching for the right word. "Intense."
"Intense how?" Saanvi raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"Like... imagine a thunderstorm in a tailored suit," I said, trying to describe him. "He walks in, and suddenly the whole room feels like it's holding its breath. And he keeps calling me 'Miss Jayshree'!"
"Jayshree?" Mehak frowned, pausing her pacing.
"I know!" I groaned, throwing my hands up in exasperation. "It's on my ID for some reason, I told you guys, remember. He won't listen when I correct him. It's like he's decided I'm a character in a historical drama!"
"A historical drama where you're being courted by a king?" Aanika asked, her eyes sparkling. "This is better than any soap opera!"
"It's not a soap opera," I mumbled, even though it totally was. "It's more like... a royal hostage situation with awkward flirting."
"Awkward flirting?" Saanvi repeated, her eyes widening. "Details, Ishika! We need details!"
"Well," I began, trying to remember the exact sequence of events.
"He showed up at my work, all dark eyes and a commanding voice, like he was about to declare war. And then he said he wanted me to be his in every sense of the word and wanted to take me on dates to pay for his ruined shirt."
"Dates!!" Mehak repeated, her voice rising again. "That's not a date, that's a contractual obligation! Did you sign anything?"
"No!" I exclaimed. "But he was so... insistent. And he said he wants to marry me."
"Marry you?" Saanvi choked, nearly dropping her phone. "He's moving fast!"
"Too fast!" I agreed, feeling a wave of panic wash over me.
"It's like he's trying to rewrite my life as a royal romance novel, and I'm not sure I want to be the heroine. It's as if he is deliberately misunderstanding and will probably blame me when he finds out that I am actually a Jaiswal."
"Oh, come on, Ishika," Aanika said, grinning. "This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! You're going to have the best stories to tell!"
"Stories that start with 'I was kidnapped by a king'?" I asked, my voice laced with sarcasm.
"Kidnapped is a strong word," Saanvi said, her eyes twinkling.
"Think of it as... a royal adventure. Don't forget we are talking about one in a billion 'Mrityunjay Singh Rathore'. If it was me, I would have married him first before dating him."
"Ahhh, I don't know what to do," I groaned, burying my face in a strategically placed throw pillow. The scent of takeout and floral fabric did little to soothe my rapidly escalating panic.
"You could always run," Saanvi suggested, her eyes twinkling with mischievous glee. "We could stage a royal heist. I've seen enough movies to know how to hotwire a royal carriage."
"And where exactly would we go?" Mehak asked, her voice laced with practical scepticism. "Jodhpur is his territory. He'd find us before we even reached the state border."
"We could disguise you!" Aanika exclaimed, snapping her fingers. "A wig, a fake moustache... You could become a royal incognito!"
"I'm not wearing a fake moustache," I muttered, my voice muffled by the pillow. "This isn't a comedy sketch."
"It's starting to feel like one," Mehak retorted, pacing again. "He's demanding you go on dates to pay for a stain; he thinks your name is 'Jayshree', and he wants to marry you. This is less a royal romance and more a royal farce."
"Maybe he's just really, really bad at flirting," Saanvi suggested, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "Like, 'I'll ruin your life with dates and then marry you' bad."
"Or maybe", I said, finally lifting my head, "he's trying to make some kind of... point? Like, he's testing me or something."
"Testing you?" Mehak raised an eyebrow. "Testing you for what? Royal bride compatibility? 'Can she handle a man who demands dates for a mud stain?'"
"So, what do I do?" I asked, looking at my friends, my eyes pleading for a solution. "Do I go on these dates? Do I tell him to take his nine lakhs and his royal self and leave me alone? Do I fake my own death and join a circus?"
"The circus option sounds tempting," Mehak admitted, rubbing her temples. "But probably not practical."
"We need a plan," Aanika declared, her eyes gleaming with determination. "A plan to outsmart a king."
"Outsmart a king?" I repeated, my voice laced with scepticism. "We can't even outsmart a grocery store layout that makes it impossible to find anything."
"We'll figure it out," Saanvi said, her voice filled with a strange mix of confidence and chaos. "We're your best friends. That's what we do. We fix royal messes."
~ MRITYUNJAY (POV) ~
I sat behind my desk, a frown creasing my brow. I stared at the thin file Chirag had placed before me. "This is it?" I asked, my voice low and incredulous. "This is everything you have on Ishika Jayshree?"
Chirag, my security chief, shifted slightly, a hint of unease in his usually composed demeanour. "Yes, Hukum... Mrityunjay. This is all we could gather. It's... remarkably little."
I flipped through the few pages, my frustration growing with each empty section and vague detail.
"A name, a workplace, and a blurry photograph?" I scoffed, tossing the file onto my desk. "This tells me nothing. Absolutely nothing."
"She's... elusive," Chirag offered, trying to smooth over the situation. "There's no social media presence, no extended family listed, and her employment records are... incomplete."
My jaw tightened. "Incomplete?" I repeated, my voice dangerously soft.
"How is that possible?"
"We're still looking into that, Mrityunjay. It seems there's some... irregularity in her company's database," Chirag explained.
I ran a hand through my hair, my mind racing.
I am obsessed, completely and utterly consumed by this woman. I have seen her, touched her, kissed her, and yet, she remained an enigma, a beautiful, frustrating mystery.
I know I want to marry her and make her mine, but I have no information.
"This is unacceptable," I muttered, more to myself than to Chirag. "I need to know everything about her. Everything."
"We're doing our best," Chirag assured me, his voice firm. "But it's as if she doesn't want to be found."
My eyes narrowed. "Then we'll have to change tactics," I said, my voice laced with determination.
"Dig deeper, Chirag. Leave no stone unturned. I want to know her family, her friends, her habits, her secrets. Everything."
I picked up the blurry photograph, my gaze softening slightly as I stared at her image. "She's hiding something," I murmured, my voice almost a whisper.
"And I intend to find out what it is."
"And the name Jayshree?" Chirag asked, "It is on her ID card, but you are sure that is not her name?"
"Yes," I said, my gaze fixed on the photo.
I set the photograph down, my eyes hardening. "Find her, Chirag. And find her quickly. I'm growing impatient."
Chirag nodded, his expression serious. "Yes, Mrityunjay. I'll make it my priority." He turned to leave but paused at the door. "Be careful, Mrityunjay. Obsession can be a dangerous thing."
I didn't reply, my gaze fixed on the thin file on his desk. I am already too far gone, lost in the labyrinth of my own desire. I am in love, blindly and completely, and I will stop at nothing to make Ishika mine.
~ ISHIKA (POV) ~
The office was winding down, the hum of computers fading as employees trickled out for the evening.
I gathered my belongings, eager to escape the lingering tension of the workday. Just as I was about to step out the door, Hiral, my usually flustered but efficient colleague, hurried towards me.
"Ishika! Wait!" Hiral called, her voice slightly breathless.
I paused, turning back with a polite smile. "Yes, Hiral?"
Hiral held out a small, rectangular card. "Your ID card", she said, her expression relieved. "They finally corrected it. No more 'Jayshree'".
My eyes widened. I took the card, my fingers tracing the embossed letters of my name: "Ishika Jaiswal". A wave of relief washed over me.
"Thank goodness," I murmured, a small smile playing on my lips. "I was starting to think I'd be stuck with 'Jayshree' forever."
"Well, it was a clerical error," Hiral explained, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Someone must have mixed up the names during data entry. Anyway, it's fixed now."
I nodded, tucking the card safely into my purse. "Thank you, Hiral. I really appreciate it."
"Atharva sir was quite insistent it got corrected. He kept asking about it."
"Right," I said, trying to sound casual. "Well, thanks, Hiral. I should get going."
"Sure," Hiral replied, her eyes lingering on me with a hint of curiosity. "Have a good evening."
To Be Continued...