A hearty "Padharo Mhare Des!" to all you wonderful readers, Meet our protagonist, Ruhaan Singh Rajvansh, our dashing Raana sa with a heart that echoes the valor of the great Rajput and Business acumen that remains unbeaten. And there's Meera Singhan...
किस्मत का है खुल जाना तेरा दीदार हुआ पहला सा प्यार हुआ पहली ही बार हुआ इस दिल को ना तो इनकार हुआ ना ही इकरार हुआ जाने क्या यार हुआ इस दिल को
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Meera Singhania Rajvansh, she's got me acting like a damn love-struck puppy, no kidding. I wish I could say I'm joking, but I ain't. Honestly, I can't remember the last time I got a wink of sleep in the past few days. Last night was a blur, with me holding her hand the whole damn time, like my life depended on it. I crashed on the floor next to the damn sofa, our hands locked together. Imagine what cuddling her would feel like!
Now, you might call me a creep, and you know what? I don't give a damn. As long as I get to be close to her, I'm good. Right now, I'm stuck in this home study, and all I can think about is when she'll stroll in from the hospital, flashing that damn beautiful smile of hers. That smile, it's like a spell that could make me do just about anything, even if I have to walk through fire.
Just when I thought I could have some peace, the study door swings open, and there's Sidharth, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "What the hell are you doing here?" I ask, annoyed as hell just by his presence. "Veeru, no 'hi' or 'hello'?" he quips with that smile still plastered on his face, plopping down in the armchair across my desk. "Sidharth..." I warn him, and he gets serious real quick.
"I've gone through the Singhi file. Those bastards are playing us for fools. The deal they offered looks too damn good to be true. I've had our PI dig into it, and it smells like some illegal money laundering shit," he says, and I clench my fists, seething with anger. Damn it, nothing's going right.
"Get me some concrete proof, and we'll blacklist those sons of bitches," I order, and he nods, getting on the phone to make some calls. I started contacting few officials. We're this close to cracking that female smuggling case wide open.
After he hung up, Sidharth shot me a glance. "Veeru, Meera ghar par hai?" he asked, his eyes locked onto mine. Why the hell did he say Meera? "Rani-sa bolo unhe," I replied sternly, trying to set him straight. But he just scowled at me.
"Fine, I'll call her 'Bhabhi' then!" he retorted, acting all pompous, completely ignoring my earlier statement.
I couldn't help but roll my eyes and mutter, 'Sab meri biwi ke peeche pade hue hai. Aur voh sab pe dhyan deti hai mere sivay.'
We both walked out of the study and into the living room, only to find it empty. Then, I spotted Meera walking in, dressed in her work attire, wearing that tired look she often had after surgeries. She seemed to be searching for someone, and I couldn't help but wonder who it was.
