Abhimanyu walked into the mansion alongside Aavyan, both fresh from the office after successfully securing the deal. The faint sound of laughter drifted from the living room, and as they entered, Abhimanyuâs gaze fell on Misha and Isha, chatting and giggling like old friends.
For a moment, his eyes lingered on Misha, her laughter lighting up her face in a way that made him forget everything else. But just as quickly, he snapped out of it, sighing quietly. What am I even thinking?
Isha and Misha turned toward them, and the warm, cheerful atmosphere shifted as the brothers approached.
"Abhimanyu Bhai! Guess what-Misha Bhabhi made something special to celebrate the deal," Isha said with a grin, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
Abhimanyuâs gaze flickered to Misha, who stood there smiling at him, and something twisted inside him. But his expression remained cold, his voice even colder. "Nonsense. We always get deals. Thereâs nothing special about it that requires sweets," he said bluntly, his words sharp enough to pierce the cheerful mood.
Mishaâs smile faltered for a second before her eyes narrowed. A playful smirk curved her lips as she shot back, "And who said I made the sweet for you or your deal?"
Abhimanyuâs eyes darkened, his jaw tightening as he glared at her. Isha and Aavyan stood frozen, stunned at Mishaâs audacity to talk back. No one spoke to Abhimanyu like that.
"I made this for Aavyan," Misha continued, her tone smug. "Heâs the one whoâs been working so hard on this project from the start."
Aavyanâs face lit up with surprise and excitement. He looked at Misha, admiration written all over his features. "Really, Bhabhi? Youâre the best!" he exclaimed, rushing over to her. "I knew it! I love you for this," he added, throwing a playful side hug around her shoulders.
Abhimanyuâs fists clenched, his nails digging into his palms as he ground his teeth in frustration. How dare she!
"See, Abhimanyu Bhai?" Aavyan beamed. "Misha Bhabhi actually cares about me."
Misha chuckled softly, pinching Aavyanâs cheek. "Of course I care, Aavyan. You worked so hard, and someone needs to appreciate that."
"Bhabhi, Iâm ready to taste the sweet!" Aavyan said, eagerly sitting at the dining table.
Mishaâs smile returned as she served him a portion of the sweet dish, along with a plate for Isha. "Here, for you too, Isha," she said warmly.
The moment Aavyan and Isha tasted the sweet, their eyes widened in surprise, exchanging a look of shock. Abhimanyu, standing nearby, frowned at their reaction, unsure of what to make of it.
"What is it?" Misha asked, confused by their expressions.
"Bhabhiâ¦" Aavyan began, pausing dramatically.
Mishaâs brow furrowed in concern. "Whatâs wrong?"
"The sweet is so good!" Aavyan finished with excitement, a broad grin spreading across his face. Isha nodded eagerly in agreement, already reaching for more.
Misha let out a small laugh, relief washing over her as she began serving them more. The conversation flowed effortlessly between Aavyan, Isha, and Misha, filled with stories of the day and laughter that echoed through the room.
Meanwhile, Abhimanyu stood off to the side, his hands balled into tight fists. He glared at them, irritation bubbling inside him.
"How dare she act like I donât even exist!" His thoughts swirled with annoyance, watching as Aavyan and Isha seemed to forget his presence entirely. Not a single glance his way, not a word.
"Idiots", he muttered under his breath, feeling a burning irritation creeping into his chest.
With one final glance at Misha, still laughing and talking to his siblings, Abhimanyu stormed off toward his room, his frustration following him like a dark cloud.
Arnav walked into the mansion and headed straight for his room, his movements swift and deliberate. He entered the closet without a word, disappearing behind the door.
Arthi had just entered the room, her hand reaching for something on the nightstand, but she froze the moment she saw him. Her brows furrowed, sensing something different about him, something... off.
Moments later, Arnav walked out of the closet, his eyes immediately locking with hers. Arthi stood there, staring at him with a frown. But then, as she looked down at his legs-her breath caught in her throat.
He was standing. Not just standing, but walking. Perfectly. Her eyes widened as realization hit her like a tidal wave. Heâs walking? Her mind raced, a storm of disbelief swirling inside her. But he canât walk. He hasnât been able to walk for so long... How is this possible?
Her vision blurred, head spinning from the shock. She stumbled backward, her legs giving way as the room seemed to tilt. Just as she was about to fall, Arnavâs strong arms caught her in time, pulling her close.
"Darling, careful," Arnavâs voice was filled with concern, a rare softness lacing his words. His arms wrapped around her waist, steadying her before gently lowering her onto the bed. Arthiâs body felt light, her mind still reeling, her shock too great for words.
"Sweetheart, you almost gave me a heart attack," Arnav said with a worried tone, sitting beside her on the bed. His concern was palpable as he studied her pale face. Arthiâs chest heaved as she tried to make sense of what she had just seen.
âYou... that... walk... how...?â Arthi stammered, her words barely coherent, the shock overwhelming her. She couldnât form a proper sentence, couldnât believe what her eyes had just witnessed.
Arnavâs brows furrowed as he leaned closer, his eyes filled with feigned confusion.
"What, sweetheart? Are you feeling alright? Maybe youâve got a fever," he said, placing a hand on her forehead with exaggerated concern. Arthi sighed, shaking her head, too dazed to respond properly.
"You can walk... but how?" she finally managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper, eyes searching his face for answers.
A smirk tugged at the corner of Arnavâs lips as he let out a small, casual laugh. "Is that it? Thatâs whatâs got you so worked up?" He chuckled, his tone light, almost as if this were no big deal at all.
Arthiâs confusion deepened. This was not the reaction she expected.
"But... I mean... how?" she asked again, frowning as her mind tried to piece it all together.
Arnav sighed, leaning back slightly as if this whole thing was trivial.
"Iâve been getting treatment for it. And clearly, it worked," he said with a shrug, his voice casual, as if he hadnât just shattered everything she thought she knew.
Arthiâs frown deepened, her mind refusing to accept the simplicity of his explanation. Treatment? Why didnât he say anything? It didnât make sense. "Since when? Why didnât you tell me?" she asked, still stumbling over her words, her shock too fresh to let go.
But Arnavâs eyes sharpened, and with that, any further questions were silenced.
"No more questions about this," he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I can walk now. Thatâs all that matters. Donât overthink it, and take some rest. You look exhausted,"he added, his voice softening, but the underlying command was unmistakable.
Arthi opened her mouth to protest, but the look in his eyes stopped her. As always, his presence had that effect on her, silencing any resistance before it could take form. She sank deeper into the bed, her thoughts spinning wildly, but her body too tired to fight him.
Arnav brushed a hand through her hair, his touch gentle despite the tension in the air. "Rest," he murmured, giving her a faint, almost uncharacteristic smile before standing up. Without another word, he left the room, leaving Arthi alone with her swirling confusion and unanswered questions.
She lay there, her heart pounding, her mind unable to process what had just happened. He can walk? But how, and from when,why didnât he tell me? She felt like she was drowning in her own thoughts, uncertainty and suspicion clouding everything.
The room felt colder now, emptier, as the weight of the unanswered questions settled on her chest.
In office of General Agent.
The office was buzzing with activity as the agents rushed to and fro, but when he walked in, the entire floor seemed to pause for just a second. Dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, every inch of him screamed control and power. His broad shoulders filled the doorway, and his presence alone commanded attention, even from the most seasoned agents who rarely blinked in the face of danger.
The subtle clack of his polished shoes against the marble floor echoed in the hallway as he moved, each step deliberate, steady, and confident. His crisp white shirt peeked through the collar of his dark suit, the top button left undone, revealing a hint of the man beneath the perfection. He adjusted the sleek black tie with a quick flick of his fingers as if the world itself was just a little too slow for him.
As he neared the main office, his sharp eyes scanned the surroundings, missing nothing. His face was a study in calm intensity-sharp jawline, chiseled cheekbones, and dark stubble that added a rugged edge to his otherwise immaculate appearance. His dark hair, slicked back with casual precision, contrasted with the icy blue gaze that could either freeze you in place or set the world ablaze, depending on his mood.
There was a certain danger in his movements-controlled but ready to unleash, a predator in the guise of a man. The agents passing him nodded in respect, some with a hint of unease, but none dared to speak. They knew him by reputation-whispers of missions that no one else could handle, cases that remained unsolved until he got involved.
He reached the large, wooden door of the Head Agentâs office. Without hesitation, he pushed it open and stepped inside, the roomâs quietness greeting him. The man sitting behind the desk barely looked up as the door clicked shut, but he didnât need to.
"Aditya," the head agent said, finally lifting his eyes to meet the man standing before him. There was a smirk tugs in the corners of his lips, as though heâd been waiting for this moment.
Aditya Agnihothri. The name was known far and wide, whispered among enemies and spoken with respect among allies. An agent like no other. And now, he was ready for his next mission.
Ishani walked into the grand mansion, her steps heavy with a mix of hesitation and determination. The weight of her decisions pressed on her chest, but she took a deep breath, straightened her posture, and entered. Her eyes immediately caught the figure of a man seated comfortably on the plush sofa. His presence was calm, almost too calm, as if he had been expecting her for a long time. As soon as he saw her, a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips, a smile that didnât quite reach his eyes. He gestured for her to take a seat, and despite her nerves, she forced a smile and complied.
"Ishani Rathore," the man said, his voice smooth but calculated.
She nodded, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.
"Iâm Mr. Khurana," he introduced himself, his tone disarmingly calm. She nodded again, remaining silent.
Without missing a beat, Mr. Khurana leaned forward, his smirk widening slightly. "So, you want to destroy the Rathore family."
Ishaniâs breath hitched, but before she could respond, he continued, cutting her off with a wave of his hand.
"Donât bother denying it," he said with an air of smugness. "I know everything. You hate them just as much as I do." His eyes gleamed with malice as he leaned back. "And thatâs why youâre here. Youâre one of us now."
Ishani looked unsure whether to trust him, but she knew she couldnât back down. She had made her choice.
"You have a task," Mr. Khuranaâs tone shifted, growing serious, as his eyes locked onto hers. He slid a file across the table toward her.
"What is it?" Ishani asked, her frown deepening as she glanced down at the file.
Mr. Khuranaâs lips curled into another smirk. "This is your brothersâ next big project," he said, a coldness dripping from every word. "The Rathore company has been banking on this one. Itâs massive, and they canât afford to lose it."
Ishaniâs brows furrowed as she picked up the file, scanning its contents. It was all there-the details, the stakes. Confusion clouded her thoughts as she looked back up at Mr. Khurana, whose smirk had now turned sinister.
"What do you want me to do?" she asked, irritation creeping into her voice. She wasnât here to play games.
"Simple," Mr. Khurana said, leaning back with a casual air, his tone ice-cold. "You need to get me all the critical information about this project. Every detail, every weakness."
Her confusion only deepened. "Why do I need to do that? What does this project have to do with me?"
Mr. Khurana chuckled darkly. "If they lose this project, it will be their first major downfall. A blow they canât afford. Itâs not just a deal-itâs their pride, their confidence. And once thatâs shattered," he paused, his eyes narrowing, "the rest of their empire will crumble."
Ishani clenched her fists, anger bubbling beneath the surface. She couldnât stand the thought of her brothers winning, but something about this plan unsettled her. She wasnât sure if it was the scale of the destruction or Mr. Khuranaâs smugness, but it gnawed at her.
Sensing her hesitation, Mr. Khuranaâs tone grew sharper. "Or have you changed your mind? Are you staring to feel that they are your brothers and family?" His eyes glinted, daring her to falter.
"Never," Ishani spat, her anger flaring. "Iâll never change my mind about them."
"Good," Mr. Khurana said with a satisfied smile. "I knew you wouldnât."
He leaned back again, completely relaxed, as if the whole thing was a mere game to him. "Let them enjoy their little victory for now. Once we have the information, they wonât know what hit them. All the details are in that file. Read it carefully. And remember," his voice dropped to a deadly whisper, "this is the beginning of their end."
Ishani stood up, clutching the file tightly, her heart pounding in her chest. Mr. Khurana gave her one last cold smile as he gestured toward the door.
"You can leave now. You know what to do."
Without another word, Ishani turned and walked out, the weight of her task heavy on her shoulders. As she left the mansion and made her way back to the Rathore estate, her mind raced with thoughts of betrayal, revenge, and the family she was determined to bring down.
The entire Rathore family gathered in the grand hall as the elderly couple, Hrudhayâs parents-Saraswati Rathore and Arvind Rathore-returned from their pilgrimage. Their faces were glowing with contentment and the blessings they carried from the temple. The air was filled with warmth as they entered, and everyone respectfully rose to greet them.
"We apologize for not being able to attend the weddings," Saraswati, lovingly called Dadi Ma, said with a gentle smile.
Her husband, Arvind Rathore, affectionately known as Dada, nodded in agreement. "We asked Hrudhay to go ahead with the ceremonies since we knew we couldnât make it in time, no matter how hard we tried," he added with a light-hearted chuckle.
"We wanted to return as quickly as possible, but time wasn't on our side," Dada continued, his eyes crinkling in a smile. "You know us, weâre old, and we couldnât resist visiting every temple along the way," Dadi Ma chimed in with a polite, almost playful tone.
Aavyan, always the diplomat, smiled at his Dadi Ma. "But now that youâre here, youâve blessed the couples in person, Dadi Ma. That's what matters."
Dadi Ma beamed and gestured for Abhimanyu to come forward. "Abhimanyu, beta, come here," she said warmly. He approached with the same respect and affection that had always bound him to his grandparents.
"And you too, Misha," Dadi Ma called out softly, noticing Mishaâs hesitation as she stood at a distance. Misha smiled faintly before walking over to join Abhimanyu by Dadi Maâs side.
"You two look perfect together," Dadi Ma said, her voice filled with pride as she placed her hands on their heads, blessing them.
Abhimanyu had always shared a deep bond with his grandparents, growing up in their care. The tenderness in his gaze was evident as he stood by his Dadi Ma, who smiled fondly at her favorite grandson.
"Arnav, beta, come here," Dadi Maâs voice beckoned next, her tone still gentle but with a hint of concern.
Arnav, who had been standing nearby, stepped forward obediently. "Arthi, beti, you too," Dadi Ma called, her eyes softening as she gestured for Arnavâs wife to join them. Arthi hesitated briefly, but then made her way forward, standing beside Arnav.
As Dadi Ma and Dada blessed the couple, Dadi Ma couldnât hold back her relief. "Arnav, beta, Iâm so relieved that youâre walking again. I was so worried about you, dear."
Dada couldnât help but interject with a teasing smile. "Your Dadi Ma has kept God busy with all her prayers for you. I think she wore Him out with all her requests!"
Laughter filled the hall as the family shared in Dadaâs light-hearted humor, though Dadi Ma gave him a mock glare. "You hush," she scolded, though the affection in her eyes was clear.
Arnav smiled softly as his grandmotherâs words sank in. "Sheâs your good luck charm, beta," Dadi Ma continued, glancing meaningfully at Arthi. "Ever since she entered your life, all your troubles have faded away."
Arnav followed Dadi Maâs gaze and looked at Arthi, who was now talking quietly with Misha. A faint smile touched his lips, the subtle affection in his expression not going unnoticed by his family.
For the next hour, the family remained together, chatting with Dadi Ma and Dada, enjoying the warmth of their presence. Afterward, everyone retired to their respective rooms, hearts light and spirits high after the familyâs long-awaited reunion.
Tara stormed into her house, muttering under her breath about Aavyan, her face twisted in frustration. The irritation was clear in her stride, but the moment she stepped into the living room and saw her parents sitting together, her expression brightened. The anger melted away as she hurried toward them.
"Dad! Mom!" Tara exclaimed, rushing over to hug her mother from the side, catching her off guard for a second.
"Tara, whatâs this?" her mother, Amira, said in a mildly exasperated tone. Amira was a loving mother, though often strict, especially when Taraâs antics got on her nerves. Yet before she could scold her daughter, Raghav, Taraâs father, would always swoop in to defend her. It was a familiar routine-once Amira got irritated, both father and daughter would brace themselves, hoping to survive the oncoming storm.
Tara, unfazed by her motherâs reaction, just grinned and turned to her father. "Dad!" she called out, flopping down beside him on the sofa and hugging him tightly. Raghav affectionately patted her head.
"Howâs my dear daughter doing?" Raghav asked with a warm smile. Raghav Roy was one of the top businessmen in the industry, and now Tara, as the CEO, was taking over the reins of the company. Despite all his accomplishments, it was clear that nothing mattered to him more than his daughter.
"Great, Dad," Tara replied with a smile, feeling the comfort of her fatherâs unwavering support.
"Beta, weâve got that new project, right? Howâs the work going?" Raghav asked, his tone turning serious as business naturally slipped into the conversation.
Tara let out an exaggerated sigh. "Dad, I just got home, and youâre already asking about work? Iâm exhausted," she said, leaning back on the sofa, trying to look pitiful.
Raghav chuckled softly. "I know, beta. Youâre working hard. Youâre doing an amazing job as CEO. Iâm so proud of you," he said with a smile, his voice filled with pride.
Tara gave him a tired but grateful nod, her father's praise always managing to lift her spirits.
Amira, who had been watching the exchange, sighed and shook her head in disbelief. "Your daughter will definitely make your company number one," Amira said with sarcasm, though a small smile tugged at her lips.
Both Tara and Raghav looked at her in shock, not expecting her rare approval.
"We know, right?' Tara said, grinning as she exchanged a mischievous glance with her father. Raghav nodded, the two of them acting as if they had just received the highest compliment.
Amira watched the scene unfold, eyes wide in disbelief. "Do they even understand sarcasm?" she thought, shaking her head as they continued laughing.
"Tara, beta, go take some rest. Youâve worked hard enough," Raghav said with genuine concern.
Tara nodded and stretched before standing up. As she started to leave, Amira shot them both a half-playful glare and sighed.
Tara gave her father one last smile before heading toward her room, leaving her parents behind, their familiar dynamic intact.
All of you
Mujhe app log se ek qusetion pucha na tha ki app log hi story padh rahi hain, aur kahin koi Ghost bhi mera story padha Raha hai ki, main kisi comment ko dekh nahin rahi.
English mein be pucha liya
I wanted to ask you all a question that whether you all are reading the story or any ghost also reading the story that I am not able to see any comments.