This book is under major editing. Read the refined version, called She stole my Knight.
Roshni, her name meant light. Yet she was considered as darkness. Except for one person. What will happen to Roshni, when the only person who loves her uncondit...
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I saw someone that made the floor under my feet slip.
Sameer.
He was the one who gave money to the manger, getting the crowd withdraw from here.
What, why would he do that.
And wait.
If he's here, then so is bhai.
Great Roshni. Good bye world.
I can't let him find me, no. He is going to be so mad. I will run from here to home, and tell I never came here. Yes.
Finding my dumb decision, perfect at the moment. I choose to exert it.
Scrutinizing my gaze over the place to find my way out. My upper arm felt a harsh tug, forcing me to turn around. My heart stopped, just by looking at the shoes of the person, I knew, I made a big bad mistake. It was bhai after all. Dragging me out in the same way, he gave a glance at my outfit. Well shit.
"What the hell is this Roshni?" He ominously whispered, burning me with lasers he shot from his onyx orbs, "what is you're wearing?" He took off his black suit blazer and draped it on me.
I stood there quietly, looking down at the mosaic floor. I couldn't even dare to look at him, in his eyes. Roshni! Bhai called me, Roshni, he got disappointed in me. He always called me beta, or endearment, but Roshni, never, until unless it's a serious matter or he's frustrated with me.
He's disappointed in me, he's angry with me. I was always very-very cautious about not making him upset with me. I wanted him to be proud of me. I hung his head low.
We were now sitting in his range-rover, he drove the car little farther from the pub. Stopping it at the side of the road, he turned the headlights off. Running his fingers on his dark tresses, he kept his other hand on the steering wheel, griping it so tight, knuckles turned white.
"What is wrong with you?" He growled, his voice cold. I took the dare, and looked at him, he had a black vest and tie on, he was folding his shirt sleeves.
"Sorry bhai." I mumbled and got a glare in return. Bending my head down, I fidgeted with his blazer's button. Patiently sitting to face the music.
"You realise how irresponsible was this."
Nodding my head at him, I whispered, "yes."
"How old are you are you?" Thinking it was a rhetorical question, I kept my lips sealed and stared at the hand-break. "I asked, how old are you are?" He yelled, making me flinch in the process.
He yelled at me. Oh poor heart.
"Sixteen." I maffled, bitter tears puddled my eyes, turning my vision blurry.
