BOOK 1 in IMMORTAL SERIES.
In the heart of udaipur , a city of palaces and secrets stood the infamous MR. ABHIMANYU RAICHAND , his towering presence exuded an aura of authority , as if the world bowed to his every whim . Renowned as the king of udai...
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continuation of flashback
AUTHOR'S POV
As the sun dipped below the horizon, Abhimanyu and Zayn made their way back, leaving behind echoes of a generation past. In the quiet of the room, Akshara's eyes fluttered open, her mother's face swimming into focus.
"Maa saa?" Akshara's voice was weak but filled with a myriad of unspoken questions.
Her mother took her hand, a gentle squeeze conveying reassurance. "You're safe now, my child. That..... he saved you."
Akshara's mind raced. "Who was he?"
A pause. "The light in our darkness," her mother replied, avoiding the truth that he was the son of her lifelong friend.
Gratitude welled up in Akshara's heart. She longed to thank the mysterious savior but time slipped through her fingers like grains of sand. With a determined spark in her eyes, she made a silent promise, "One day, I will find him and thank him for guiding us out of the shadows."
Meanwhile, Abhimanyu paced the length of his room, a storm brewing in his chest. He couldn't shake off the image of Akshara's vulnerable form, nor quiet the tumultuous feelings that surged within him.
"Why can't I understand what's happening to me?" he muttered to himself, raking a hand through his hair.
His reflection in the mirror offered no answers, only a visual echo of his inner turmoil.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
As years passed Abhímanyu's office was a battleground of stress and tension. The air crackled with anxiety, and the employees tiptoed around their boss, fearing the wrath of his devilish temper. Abhímanyu, once a composed and affable man, had transformed into a tempest, fueled by the memory of a chance encounter-the moon that had eclipsed his sanity.
His friends-Zayn, Neil, Aarohi, and Atharva-had witnessed this metamorphosis firsthand. They knew the man behind the polished façade, the one who now prowled the corridors like a wounded tiger. They decided to confront him, to break through the icy walls he'd erected around himself.
One afternoon, they barged into his cluttered cabin, their laughter echoing off the mahogany walls. Abhímanyu glanced up from his files, irritation etched across his features. His eyes, once warm and inviting, now held a storm of emotions-frustration, longing, and a hint of vulnerability.
Zayn, the cheekiest of the lot, leaned against the doorframe. "Abhi, my man," he drawled, "you're turning into a legend. Fifty employees fired in a week? That's got to be some kind of record."
Neil, the eternal optimist, chimed in. "Maybe you should give them a manual: 'Surviving Abhímanyu's Wrath 101.' Chapter one: Duck and Cover."
Aarohi, always the peacemaker, nudged Atharva. "Remember when he used to bring us cupcakes on Fridays? Now it's like he's channeling the spirit of a medieval warlord."
