ISHQ-E-MOHABBAT

1. the king's Domain

Abhimaan deep Shekhawat:

Abhimaan Deep Shekhawat, the King of Rajasthan, sat in his opulent office, surrounded by the trappings of power. His piercing gaze scanned the room, his eyes lingering on the intricate frescoes adorning the walls. His assistant, Rajeev, stood before him, awaiting instructions.

"Rajeev, what's the status on the Maity deal?" Abhimaan's deep voice was laced with authority, his tone commanding.

"It's done, sir. The wedding is set for next week," Rajeev replied, his voice trembling slightly.

Abhimaan's expression remained impassive, his eyes narrowing marginally. "See that everything is in order. I won't tolerate any mistakes."

Rajeev nodded hastily, knowing better than to provoke his employer's ire. "Yes, sir. I'll ensure everything goes smoothly."

Abhimaan's gaze drifted to the window, his thoughts consumed by the impending union. Mayura Maity, the innocent pawn in his game of power, was about to enter his world. A world where he ruled supreme, where his word was law, and where love was a weakness he couldn't afford.

"Rajeev, one more thing," Abhimaan said, his voice low and menacing. "Keep a close eye on the Maity family. I don't want any surprises."

Rajeev bowed his head, knowing the unspoken threat lurking beneath his employer's words. "Yes, sir. I'll take care of it."

With a dismissive wave, Abhimaan sent Rajeev scurrying from the room, leaving him to his thoughts. The King of Rajasthan was a man of few words, but his dominance and arrogance were palpable, a reminder to all of his unyielding grip on power.

Abhimaan  emerged from his office, his long strides devouring the distance as he made his way to the waiting car. The wind howled and whipped through the streets, threatening to dislodge the carefully styled hair of the King of Rajasthan. His gaze narrowed, his eyes squinting against the dust and debris swirling in the air.

As he approached the sleek black sedan, he  gripped the steering wheel of his sleek black sedan, his eyes fixed on the deserted road ahead. He was driving himself to the Maity residence, a rarity for the King of Rajasthan, who usually had a chauffeur at his beck and call. The wind howled through the open window, whipping his hair into a frenzy as he sped down the empty street.

Suddenly, a flash of white caught his attention. A girl, dressed in a flowing white Anarkali, stepped off the curb, her eyes fixed on her phone. Abhimaan's heart skipped a beat as he slammed on the brakes, the car drifting to a halt mere inches from the unsuspecting pedestrian.

The girl's eyes snapped up, locking onto Abhimaan's intense gaze. For a moment, they stared at each other, the only sound the screeching of tires and the wind rushing past. Abhimaan's eyes narrowed, his mind racing with a singular thought - who was this girl, and why was she so... captivating?

The girl's cheeks flushed as she quickly sidestepped the car, her eyes never leaving Abhimaan's face. He felt an inexplicable jolt, his heart racing with an excitement he couldn't quite explain. The car's engine purred, the only sound breaking the tense silence.

Abhimaan's gaze followed her as she hurried across the street, her white Anarkali fluttering behind her like a ghostly trail. He felt an overwhelming urge to follow her, to know more about this mysterious girl who had so suddenly and unwittingly captured his attention.

The car's tires squealed as Abhimaan pulled back onto the road, his eyes scanning the sidewalk, searching for another glimpse of the enigmatic girl in white. Little did he know, this chance encounter would be the beginning of an obsession that would change the course of his life forever.

Abhimaan's car glided to a halt before the Maity residence, a modest but respectable home. He stepped out, his eyes scanning the waiting family members. Mayura's father, Mr. Maity, approached him with a warm smile, his hands clasped together in a greeting.

"Ah, Abhimaan, welcome! We're so glad you're here," Mr. Maity said, his voice dripping with enthusiasm.

Abhimaan's expression remained stoic, his eyes never wavering from the older man's face. He didn't bother to return the greeting, his silence speaking volumes about his disinterest in the proceedings.

"Let's talk business, shall we?" Mr. Maity suggested, leading Abhimaan into the house. "I'm sure you're aware of the profits our companies can generate together. It's a match made in heaven, if I do say so myself."

Abhimaan's gaze never left Mr. Maity's face, his mind calculating the potential gains. He didn't bother to ask about Mayura's opinion or feelings, assuming she was just as selfish and interested in the wealth and power he offered.

As they sat in the living room, surrounded by Mayura's family members, Abhimaan's thoughts drifted back to the girl in white. He couldn't shake off the feeling that she was different, that there was something more to her than met the eye.

But for now, he pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on the business at hand. Little did he know, Mayura's family was hiding secrets of their own .

Abhimaan's voice cut through the chatter in the living room, his tone commanding attention. " call Mayura. I need to speak with her."

Mayura's mother, Mrs. Maity, hastened to obey, her eyes darting nervously towards her husband. "Yes, of course, . I'll get her right away."

Abhimaan's gaze never wavered, his eyes fixed on the doorway as if willing of Mayura to appear. The room fell silent, the weight of his presence palpable.

Moments later, Mayura entered the room, her eyes cast downward, her face a mask of serenity.

Abhimaan's gaze narrowed, his eyes locked onto Mayura's face. And then, it hit him - the realization that she was the same girl he had almost hit with his car earlier that day. The girl in white Anarkali.

His mind raced with the coincidence, his thoughts whirling with questions. What was she doing here? Why was she marrying him?

Mayura's eyes remained cast downward, her face a mask of serenity. But Abhimaan detected a hint of rebellion in her stance, a subtle defiance that piqued his interest.

"I want to talk to you alone," he said, his voice firm but curious.

Mayura didn't respond, didn't even look at him. She simply followed him out of the room, her footsteps silent behind him.

Abhimaan led her to the garden, the wind rustling through the trees as they walked. He stopped at a secluded bench, gesturing for her to sit. Mayura complied, her eyes still cast downward.

Abhimaan's gaze bore into Mayura's,  his voice firm. "So, Mayura, do you want to marry me?"

Mayura's eyes flickered, a fleeting emotion dancing in their depths. Abhimaan couldn't quite decipher it, but it only added to his frustration. He assumed she was just like his father - selfish, manipulative, and only interested in wealth and power.

Without waiting for her response, he pulled out a ring and thrust it into her hand. "Wear this. Pretend we're engaged. The wedding will happen soon enough."

Mayura's eyes widened, her face pale, but Abhimaan didn't linger to see her reaction. He stood, his long strides carrying him away from her, leaving her alone in the garden.

The ring felt like a weight in Mayura's hand, a symbol of the prison she was about to enter. She looked up, her eyes searching for a way out, but Abhimaan was already gone, leaving her to her fate.

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Hey it's me, your writer -megh✨🪻

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