Hey everyone,
Iâm finally settling into hostel life. It was tough at first, but itâs getting better. Iâm still adjusting to the timing, though.
Today is my maa saâs â¤ï¸ birthday, and Iâm missing her a lot.
Happy reading â¨
Authors pov
As the bullet whizzed past Aadish's shoulder, she gasped, her heart leaping into her throat. The narrow escape left only a shallow cut, but the sight of him wounded was enough to send her into a spiral of fear.
Aadish, quick to react, yanked her to safety, pulling her behind the car's frame. His grip on her wrist was firm, a reassuring anchor amid the chaos. His eyes, intense and unwavering, met hers, revealing a storm of emotionsâconcern, pain, and an undying resolve. Despite the sting of the injury, his gaze was focused solely on her, trying to soothe her trembling form with silent strength.
Aadish gently placed his hand behind Avantikaâs back, his fingers lightly grazing her shoulder as he offered a comforting rub. His voice, soft and reassuring, broke through her tears. "Itâs okay, betu (child). Itâs just a minor injury. Please donât cry," he said with a tenderness that seemed to melt away her distress.
Avantika, slowly emerging from her haze of worry, turned her face toward him. His hand, now resting near her chin, seemed to offer a steady anchor amid her storm of emotions. She met his gaze with her deep, dark eyes, a silent plea for reassurance.
Without hesitation, Aadish handed her his phone, his gaze steady and firm. âCall Armaan. Iâll handle this,â he instructed, his tone brooking no argument. As he began to rise, ready to tackle whatever awaited them, Avantikaâs hand reached out, gripping his with a desperate urgency. Her touch was a silent plea for him to stay, for his presence was the only thing grounding her in this moment of chaos.
"Please bachha, vo log karib aa rahe honge... Hume kuchh nhi honga (child, they must be coming closer... Weâll be fine)," he said, trying to reassure her, though he remained unaware of her innocent yet anxious state of mind.
He placed one hand on hers, saying, "Pakka... promise (I swear)...". He was about to continue, but before he could, she asked, "Gun kaha hai? (Where is the gun?)" Her question caught him completely off guard. His eyes widened in shock, revealing the impact of her words. The sudden realization struck him hard, leaving him visibly shaken and stunned by the gravity of the situation.
He was still in shock when she repeated, "Gun kaha hai Aadish (Where is the gun, Aadish)?" The urgency in her voice, calling his name, broke through his daze. Unable to control himself, he pointed to his pocket and retrieved the gun, revealing its formidable presence.
Just as he was about to react, Avantika, with a swift motion, seized the gun from his hands. Before he could fully comprehend what was happening, she fired, hitting a man who had been standing just behind Aadish. The suddenness of the shot and the gravity of the situation left Aadish momentarily stunned.
Before Aadish could fully process what was happening, his future queen had neutralized the goons with just five shots. The scene unfolded so quickly that it left him in utter disbelief.
"Avantika!" he shouted as the realization finally sank in. Overwhelmed with shock and joy, he turned toward her, his face reflecting a mix of astonishment and admiration.
Before he could say anything, she interrupted, "Mr. R aapko dard ho raha h n .. chaliye doctor ke pass chalte hai" (Mr. R, you seem to be in pain. Letâs go see a doctor), her eyes scanning his injury with concern.
He attempted to downplay it. "Ye kuchh bhi nhi bachha .... Magar aapko gun..." (Itâs nothing, child. But you, with the gun...) His large hands cradled her face, his fingers softly massaging her skin as he spoke. She cut him off, her voice firm, "Vo lambi kahani h badme btaugi ji ... Abhi doctor ke pass chaliye kitni chot aayi hai aapko na..." (Thatâs a long story for another time. Right now, we need to see how badly you're hurt. Let's go to the doctor and find out, shall we?)
"Relax ... Vani, I am fine," he said, trying to reassure her. As he spoke, he noticed Avantika slowly losing consciousness and collapsing against his chest. Her face remained cradled in his hands, and he gently adjusted her position, turning her face toward him.
"Bachha, gale lagna tha to kahe deti na aap ... Chaliye ab uth jayiye na ... Vani," he said (Child, if you needed to hug me, you could have told me ... Come on, get up now, Vani). However, Avantika did not respond; her face remained blank, showing no sign of reaction.
As he hovered over her, his voice trembled with concern. âBetu, dar lag raha hai... (Little one, I'm scared...) Uth jao... (Wake up...) Avantika... Vani...â His words were a soft plea, barely more than a whisper, as he gently attempted to rouse her. But despite his efforts, she remained unmoved, her sleep unbroken.
Realizing that something was amiss, a knot of dread tightened in his chest. With a surge of urgency, he lifted her with care, his gaze fixated on her serene, yet troubled face. As he placed her in the car, his movements were deliberate, each action performed with a quiet desperation.
The engine roared to life, and the vehicle sped away, its tires skimming the road as if racing against time itself. The Rajawat mansion loomed in the distance, a beacon of hope amid the chaos. His heart pounded in sync with the rapid rhythm of the car, praying that he would reach the safety and sanctuary of the mansion before it was too late.
In the dimly lit interior of the car, his gaze was fixed on her face, and the sight of her closed eyes filled him with a dread that surpassed even the fear of death.
His hands trembled slightly as he reached over and gently pried the phone from her grasp, still firmly clutched in her lifeless fingers.
With a sense of urgency, he dialed Armaan, his voice trembling with panic as he instructed him to prepare the team of doctors.
The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on him, but he managed to convey the importance of their swift action.
As the vehicle raced towards the mansion, the anticipation was almost unbearable.
By the time Aadish arrived, the room was already transformed into a sterile sanctuary, every detail meticulously arranged by Armaan and his team, ready to confront the emergency that awaited them.
As the sleek car glided to a stop at the mansionâs grand entrance, the door on the driverâs side swung open with an urgent swiftness. Aadish, with an intensity that bordered on desperation, rushed around the vehicle, barely waiting for the door to settle before flinging open Avantikaâs side. His gaze locked onto her serene face, a momentary pause that betrayed the churning tumult within him. In one fluid motion, he lifted her into his arms, cradling her with a fervent protectiveness.
While Aadishâs heart pounded like a runaway train, each beat echoing the fear and longing that gripped him, Avantika remained unnervingly still. Her calm demeanor offered no reassurance, only deepening the mystery of her condition. The stark contrast between Aadishâs frantic energy and Avantikaâs placid calm underscored a tension that clung to the air, amplifying the gravity of the situation.
As Aadish stepped through the grand entrance of the mansion, the atmosphere was thick with shock and unease. Family members, their faces etched with a mix of worry and disbelief, gathered in hushed groups, their eyes darting anxiously between each other and the scene before them. The sight of Aadish, with Avantika cradled in his arms, only intensified their distress. Blood stains smeared across his clothes, stark against the otherwise pristine surroundings, painted a grim picture. The once welcoming halls now felt heavy with an ominous weight, as whispers of concern and fear rippled through the room.
In the dimly lit room, an almost surreal atmosphere enveloped the scene as Aadish Rajawat, the formidable king of Jaipur and the clandestine ruler of the mafia world, fell to his knees beside Avantikaâs bed. His powerful frame, usually so commanding and unyielding, now appeared diminished in the soft glow of the bedside lamp. He gently cradled her hands in his own, the contrast between his hardened exterior and the tenderness of his touch stark and profound.
The doctors and family members, who had gathered around in quiet consternation, found themselves ensnared in a moment that seemed to defy the boundaries of reality. The sight of Aadish, a man whose very name struck fear into the hearts of many, now reduced to a figure of vulnerability and raw emotion, was both unexpected and deeply moving. In their minds, it felt as though they were witnessing a dreamâa moment of profound personal sacrifice and unspoken love that transcended the constraints of their everyday lives. The room, filled with the muffled sounds of medical equipment and hushed whispers, now seemed to hold its breath, captivated by the intense gravity of Aadishâs devotion.
Aadish Rajawat rose slowly from his kneeling position, his movements deliberate and laden with a mixture of exhaustion and hope. As he stood, a team of doctors entered the room, the very individuals he had specifically requested. Armaan had ensured that only female doctors were present, and they now approached with a professional but compassionate demeanor.
Without pausing for much of an examination, the lead doctor spoke with a brisk efficiency that belied the gravity of the situation. "Mr. Rajawat, she is absolutely fine. Her blood sugar is just low. Iâm administering an injection now. In about an hour, she should be fine. Make sure she eats once she wakes up and gets plenty of rest," she said, her tone both reassuring and authoritative. She swiftly administered the injection, her practiced hands moving with confidence.
As the doctor finished her statement and continued her tasks, the room seemed to exhale collectively. The weight of Aadish's worry was momentarily lifted, replaced by a cautious optimism. The once-tense atmosphere now held a flicker of relief, as the promise of recovery began to take shape.
Aadishâs voice was low, but it held a lethal undertone. âFirst, check her properly, doc. If something happens to her, I will definitely kââ His threat was abruptly cut off.
Ansh Rajawat entered the room with an imposing presence, his gaze as piercing as an eagle's. âDoc... Barosha kar rahe hain, kuchh nahi hona chahiye,â (Doc... We are placing our trust in you; nothing must happen). His voice was more menacing than Aadishâs, each word dripping with an icy resolve. Ansh's eyes, intense and unwavering, seemed capable of incinerating anyone who dared to interfere with his plans or endanger his family. The air around him crackled with an unspoken promise of ruthless protection, as though his very presence served as a formidable barrier against any threat.
âAap log tension mat lijiye, vo theek ho jayegi...â (Donât worry, she will be fine...) the doctor said, her voice barely a whisper between these two formidable men. She felt like a prey caught in their shadow, her assurances sounding faint against the backdrop of their intense presence.
As soon as she finished speaking, she exited the room in silence.
After her departure, Ansh placed a reassuring hand on Aadish's shoulder. âVo theek ho jayegi... Yakin rakho... Aap pehle first-aid karva loâ (She will be fine... Trust me... You should take care of first aid first). His tone was calm but firm, contrasting sharply with the earlier tension.
With a final glance at Avantika, Aadish left the room, and Ansh followed closely behind, both of them enveloped in a determined silence.
Revti was engaged in a heated conversation with her three sons, her voice carrying an edge of frustration. "Kaha tha... Itni raat bahar mat raha karo. Agar tum log na jaate to aaj shayad meri beti ki ye halat na hoti," (Where were you... Donât stay out so late. If you hadn't gone out, maybe my daughter wouldnât be in this condition today). Her words were sharp, punctuated by the rhythmic tapping of a bamboo stick she held in her hand.
Rudra's words, lighthearted and reassuring, lingered in the air as he smiled at Avantika. "Maa bhabhi sa ka bss blood sugar kam hua vo thik ho jayegi" (Mom, donât worry; itâs just that her blood sugar dropped, sheâll be fine), he said, attempting to ease her worries with casual humor.
But Revti, with a twinkle of mischief and maternal authority, couldn't let it slide. Without warning, she brandished a bamboo stick and brought it down sharply. Rudra yelped in surprise, his reflexes turning him into a leaping figure, reminiscent of a startled monkey. "Maa sa... Lagti hai na ji..." (Mom... Doesnât it hurt?), he cried out, half in pain and half in mock indignation.
Revti's eyes narrowed in mock severity. "To apni juban control Karo na beta ji..." (Then control your tongue, my dear son...) she retorted, her voice a blend of sternness and affection, as she raised the stick again, ready to strike.
Om, who had been suppressing his laughter, finally burst out, his amusement uncontainable. His laughter echoed through the room, but it was short-lived as Revtiâs gaze turned towards him. With swift precision, she delivered a light but firm tap on his legs, silencing his laughter and adding a playful reprimand to the mix. The room was filled with a blend of laughter, affection, and the unmistakable warmth of family.
Meanwhile, Armaan, who had gone out to see off the doctor, was returning inside when he spotted Revti. Realizing he was not yet safe, he turned back and, with slow, cautious steps, attempted to sneak into his room. However, just as he was about to enter, Revti seized him by the ear, dragging him toward the commotion.
In a flurry of desperate attempts to free his ear, Armaan pleaded, "Sorry, Maa sa, jaane dijiye na... Pukka nahi jaunga dubara... Iss baar chhod do, please" (Sorry, Mom, please let me go... I wonât do it again, I swear... Please let me go this time). His words were a mix of genuine remorse and frantic begging, but Revtiâs grip remained firm as she continued her playful reprimand.
"Bete, iss baar to Aadish ko bhi nahi chhodungi. Tum teen to apna bhool hi jao," Revti declared firmly, her voice carrying a blend of finality and determination (Son, this time I wonât even spare Aadish. You three can forget about it). She made him stand in the middle of the room where Om and Rudra were already positioned, each holding one leg and looking at each other with a sense of resigned camaraderie. They exchanged glances, as if they were seeing each other for the last time, their faces reflecting a mix of apprehension and mutual understanding.
SUkriya ji ð
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Love you all ð