Chapter 1

The night was unusually quiet, the stillness of the desert stretching across the land like a thick, invisible veil. Under the dim glow of the railway station lights, Aaradhya Rathore stood alone, her small frame wrapped in the soft folds of her long kurti and palazzo. The light breeze lifted the edge of her dupatta, making it dance around her shoulders as she sighed in frustration. Her gold chain with a small 'V' pendant glimmered under the pale moonlight, resting against her collarbone as she anxiously stared at the empty road.

Her plan had been simple—return home unannounced, surprise her father, and see the joy on his face. But now, everything had gone wrong. The railway station was deserted, no taxis were in sight, and to make things worse, her phone was dead.

"Oh God... my phone is also dead. What should I do now?" Aaradhya muttered, staring at the black screen in dismay.

Just then, the sound of an approaching vehicle caught her attention. A jeep appeared in the distance, its headlights cutting through the darkness, making her heart leap in relief. She immediately stepped forward, waving her hand.

"Hey! Wait! Stop! Please stop!" she called out, her voice echoing in the emptiness.

The jeep came to a slow halt, and from inside, a young man—not much older than his twenties—leaned forward, eyeing her with a curious expression. He was dressed in a simple white kurta, his eyes holding a teasing glint as he smirked.

"Aye chhori, pagal se kya? Ki gaadi ke aage aake marna hai?"

(Hey girl, are you crazy? Do you want to die by coming in front of a moving jeep?)

Aaradhya blinked at his sharp Rajasthani dialect but quickly shook her head.

"I'm sorry! I just need your help. Can you drop me home? I can't find a taxi." She asked, hopeful.

The man chuckled, shaking his head as he pointed toward the side of the street.

"Taxi? Tu bawari hai kya chhori? Yahaan taxi nahi milti. Yahaan sirf woh milti hai."

(Taxi? Are you mad, girl? You won't find taxis here. The only ride you'll get is that.)

Aaradhya followed his gaze and stared in disbelief at the bullock cart parked nearby.

Before she could react, a deep, authoritative voice cut through the conversation, sending a shiver down her spine.

"Agastya."

The voice was firm, cold, and held an unmistakable command. It wasn't a question. It was an order.

Aaradhya turned her head toward the source of the voice, standing on her toes, trying to see past the jeep's frame. But the darkness, her own short height, and the vehicle's position made it impossible to get a proper look.

The man in the jeep—Agastya—immediately straightened, his teasing demeanor vanishing in an instant.

"Ji Bhaisa." (Yes, brother.) He acknowledged with a respectful nod.

"Ask her to sit."

That was all the man said, his voice sending a strange wave of unease and curiosity through Aaradhya.

Agastya turned back to her, jerking his head toward the back of the jeep.

"Baith ja chhori." (Sit down, girl.)

Aaradhya hesitated, glancing at the jeep again. She still couldn't see the man who had spoken. His voice was rich, deep, and commanding—a voice that left no room for argument.

And yet, something in her resisted the idea of blindly following his order.

So, instead of moving, she crossed her arms and looked straight at Agastya.

"I don't sit in strangers' cars." Her voice was firm.

Agastya's eyes widened slightly before he let out a low whistle, shaking his head.

"Kahaan fas gaye, bhaisa..." (Brother, what trouble have we gotten into...) He muttered under his breath.

Before Aaradhya could respond, she saw movement from the other side of the jeep. A shadow stretched under the dim station lights, long, broad, and unmistakably intimidating. And then, he stepped forward.

Her breath caught.

Even in the dim glow, his presence was overwhelming. Tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a crisp off-white kurta, his sharp jawline marked with a faint tilak, he looked like someone who ruled rather than requested. His dark, kohl-rimmed eyes met hers, piercing, unreadable, and yet... strangely familiar.

For a second, the world around them faded.

The man before her wasn't just any stranger.

He was someone she would never forget.

Even if she didn't yet know why.

........

The air felt thick, almost suffocating, as Aaradhya's wide eyes remained locked onto the towering man before her. For a fleeting moment, everything around her faded—the dim railway lights, the distant murmurs of the night, even the soft swaying of her dupatta in the breeze.

The man—whose name she didn't know carried a weight, though which she didn't yet understand why.

"Baitho." (Sit.)

His voice, low and commanding, snapped her back to reality. It was not a request.

Aaradhya's lips parted slightly, an instinctive urge to protest rising within her. Why should she? He was a stranger. Yes, she needed a ride home, but that didn't mean she'd blindly follow the orders of an unfamiliar man—no matter how authoritative he sounded.

She lifted her chin slightly, a stubborn glint flashing in her expressive brown eyes.

"I don't take rides from people I don't know."

A tense silence stretched between them. Agastya—still seated in the driver's seat—let out a barely concealed chuckle, shaking his head at her fearless audacity.

But Vijayendra didn't move. He didn't react. He merely watched her, his face unreadable, his eyes dark and steady.

Then, he took a slow step forward.

The moment he did, Aaradhya instinctively took a step back.

That was all it took.

One step forward. One step back.

A silent warning. A silent claim.

Her heart began to race, but she refused to let him see her hesitation.

"Agastya, start the jeep." Vijayendra's voice was still calm, still composed.

Agastya blinked. "Par bhaisa—" (But, brother—)

Vijayendra's sharp gaze cut to his younger brother. Agastya shut his mouth immediately, nodding as he turned the key. The jeep roared to life.

Aaradhya's breath hitched as she saw the vehicle start to move.

"Arey, wait—!" She blurted out, stepping forward on instinct.

The moment she did, a smirk ghosted across Vijayendra's lips.

Without another word, he walked past her and effortlessly climbed into the front seat.

Agastya threw her a triumphant look. "Baith ja, chhori. Warna yehi chhod denge tujhe." (Sit down, girl. Or else, you'll be left stranded here.)

Aaradhya gritted her teeth. Did this man just trick her?

She had two options—stay alone in the middle of the night or sit in the jeep with them.

She didn't like either. But she liked being stranded even less.

With a huff, she marched toward the back seat. But as she lifted her foot to climb in, her heel slipped on the edge of a loose stone.

"Ah—!"

Before she knew it, she lost her balance, her body tilting sideways. Her suitcase slipped from her grasp, and within seconds, she crashed onto the dusty ground—face-first. 

Hearing the loud thud!, both men quickly got out of the jeep with their gun but then seeing the view they froze. 

A heavy silence followed.

Then—

Agastya burst out laughing.

"Arey chhori, tu toh shuru hone se pehle hi gir gayi!" (Oh girl, you fell before even getting in!) he said between fits of laughter.

Aaradhya's face burned with embarrassment. She pushed herself up quickly, dusting off her clothes as she shot Agastya a glare.

"It's not funny!" she huffed.

Agastya just laughed harder.

Ignoring him, she bent down to grab her luggage. Then, with newfound determination, she turned back toward the jeep and tried to climb in again.

But—

She couldn't reach.

Her height was not helping.

Damn it.

She tried once more, gripping the metal handle tightly. But no matter how hard she stretched, her foot wouldn't reach the step.

A heavy sigh.

Then—a large hand entered her vision.

Aaradhya froze.

Slowly, she turned her head—only to be met with the sight of a long, strong arm extended toward her.

Her gaze trailed upward, her breath catching as she finally saw him..

Tall—towering. Broad shoulders, chiseled features, and a gaze so dark and unreadable it sent a strange chill down her spine.

A silent offer.

He didn't speak. Didn't ask. He simply waited.

Aaradhya stared at his hand, then at his face, her heart hammering against her ribs.

Her pride screamed at her to refuse.

But at this point, she had no choice.

Swallowing her hesitation, she placed her small hand in his.

The moment she did, his fingers wrapped around hers—firm, warm, unyielding.

With effortless ease, he pulled her up.

Aaradhya let out a soft gasp as she suddenly found herself way too close to him.

Her dupatta fluttered between them, the warmth of his touch lingering on her skin even after he had let go.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Aaradhya was the first to break the silence.

"I could've climbed on my own."

Vijayendra's expression remained impassive.

"Tum chhoti ho." (You're small.)

Wait..Did he just insult me by calling me short?

She blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Baitho." (Sit.)

And just like that, he turned away, leaving her gaping in disbelief.

Agastya snickered from the front. "Maan gaye, Bhaisa. Ekdum kamaal ka tareeka hai impress karne ka." (I must say, brother, what an impressive way to charm a girl.)

Vijayendra didn't respond. He simply settled into the driver's seat and signaled for Agastya to shift into passenger's.

Aaradhya, still slightly stunned, finally exhaled and sat back.

As the vehicle rolled forward, her mind raced with unanswered questions.

Who was this man?

And more importantly—why did his presence feel strangely familiar?

To Be Continued.......

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Lots of love to you all

Love you all

Itsyourblackrose