rudra singh rathore

Time has slipped by since that day, and I’m still pretty shaken up about what happened. As I was putting my earrings in the vanity drawer, it kept replaying in my mind.

‘Avni, come down!’ Maa yelled.

“I’m coming!” I replied, pushing the drawer shut and forcing my face into something that looked normal.

I made my way down the stairs, step by step, to find my family waiting for me.

My dad, always rushing around—Vishwas Arora, 50 and still more dedicated than anyone I know—serves as chairman of Arora Enterprises, a marketing firm.

Next to him is my mom, Mishika Arora, 47 but looks amazing for her age. She used to be one of the top models in India, the kind that really turns heads. She's passing my dad his purse and watch, which he always forgets when he's heading out. He’s on a call, reassuring someone not to worry because we’ve got time—probably Vinay uncle on the other line.

I’m sort of off to the side, and Maa looks super happy. I can't help but think about how she’ll react when she learns the whole truth.

“I still can’t believe our little Avni is back,” Papa said, ending his call and pulling me into a side hug. It was quick, but the warmth in his gesture told me he’d missed me. I’d missed him too—his annoyances, his stubborn morning tea lectures, everything.

‘Papa, I was away for a while, but we video-called every day,’ I said, managing a small smile as I felt that sense of home I had missed.

‘Phone calls just don’t cut it. Look how thin you’ve gotten!’ Maa said, pulling me closer Maa exclaimed, clutching my cheeks. 

‘You’re always so dramatic—you should’ve been an actress, not just a model,’ I teased, laughing because I don’t even think I'm that thin, and she says this practically every time I come home.

‘I’m here too, Maa! Don't forget about me!’ Radhika chimed in, hugging Maa from behind, which only made Maa even more emotional. ‘You’ll be leaving soon too,’ Maa teared up, realizing her daughters aren’t little girls anymore.

My heart almost stopped at that. It’s not Radhika who will leave—it’s me, and it made me frustrated. And the thought burned in my chest.

Before we could dig deeper into this conversation, Dad called from the doorway, ‘You all can save the tears for later! We gotta go; the Rathore family is already at the store,’ he said, hurriedly putting on his shoes. When did he even get to that point? I pushed all my worries aside.

Maa wiped her tears and urged us to hurry. She seemed excited... but that excitement would change once she knows the truth, I thought, glancing at Radhika, who was obliviously focused on her phone. What’s her deal? While I'm dealing with a whirlwind, she’s giggling about something on her phone, obviously chatting with Vartik. VARTIK! I spent countless nights crying over thinking he was with someone else. Those were tough times. Maa and Dad kept checking in on me, and Radhika kept insisting I act like everything was fine, but how am I supposed to do that? My world is about to crumble, and I’m supposed to fake happiness?

‘Let’s go,’ Dad said, swinging open the main door and stepping out. Maa followed him, and I smacked Radhika’s head, pulling her attention away from her phone. Vartik must have said something that made her smile, and immediately, I regretted thinking about him.

_______________________________________

Twenty minutes later...

Here we are, in front of the Sabyasachi store. Maa wanted to get Radhika’s lehenga from this place, which is why we picked it. I recalled how excited Maa was about this brand.

Maa and Dad were walking ahead, chatting away about who knows what, while Radhika was still glued to her phone, driving me a bit crazy.

‘You need to take this situation more seriously,’ I whispered, trying to keep it between us so Maa and Dad wouldn’t hear.

‘I know, and I am! Everything is stressing me out too; I just don’t show it,’ Radhika said, finally paying attention to me. I knew she felt the pressure and cared about me, but I couldn’t help but feel jealous and sad about how things had turned out.

We started heading to the store, both aware of how tense the situation was for the other.

With every step, I just wanted to turn around and forget this whole thing; it felt like my feet were weighed down.

In the past few days, I couldn’t shake off the feeling that I’ve always been the one to lend a hand to others, never the one getting support. No matter what, I always stood up for everyone around me, but when I needed someone, I found myself all alone.

Riya has always had my back, and lately she’s been saying I shouldn’t play the martyr. I have my own life and dreams to pursue, and she’s right about that. But then there’s my sister, who needs my help more than anything else. So how can I just step back?

Marriage—it’s a word I really can’t stand. I can’t forget who I’m supposed to marry: Mr. Cold, who used to be different, at least when we were kids. We were such good friends and even played house together. I can’t believe how silly that seems now.

We were close, and I remember he took care of me once when I had a bad fever while my parents were away on a business trip. But things changed after that. I don’t really know why, but I have a feeling it has something to do with Kavya. Since she entered the picture, Rudra has completely ignored us. He ditched our group and started hanging out with her instead.

It’s like he completely forgot we were friends. Sometimes I feel bad about it, but then I remember how he made it clear he wanted nothing to do with us anymore, and seeing him irritates me.

We finally made it into the store, looking for the Rathores. The employee pointed us upstairs, so we headed in that direction.

When we reached the first floor, there they were.

Vinay Uncle was sitting next to Preeti Aunty, both laughing and checking out the sherwani—definitely for him.

Vinay Uncle, also known as Vinay Singh Rathore, is 53 and runs Rathore Heritage Pvt. Ltd., a tech company. I don’t even know how much they earn; it'd be impossible to keep track.

Preeti Singh Rathore, who's 47, is a super kind housewife. She's really pretty and always so generous, just like me. She even jokes that I take after her.

My eyes then caught Radhika, who was with Vartik—Vartik Singh Rathore, 27, a charming and a bit clumsy music artist. You could easily call him Mr. Perfect. I remembered my old crush on him, but now I feel like I don’t even have the right to think that way anymore.

“Move,” a voice cut through the air like a blade.

I froze. My heart skipped. That voice.

“Are you deaf? Or should I ask them to build another staircase for you?”

Rudra Singh Rathore. He loomed behind me, taller than I remembered, his tone colder than ice. My fists curled at my sides as I forced myself to step away. making me want to retreat to my car and never look back.

Rudra Singh Rathore is 29, the CEO of Rathore Heritage Pvt. Ltd., dabbles in politics, and let’s just say he’s cold, ruthless, selfish—and my personal enemy.

“Hey, Avni,” a voice interrupted beside me. I reluctantly turned my gaze away from him to see Kavya Gupta, 28, Rudra's business partner—smart, pretty on the outside, Her smile was sweet, but I could see the sharpness in her eyes.

“Hey,” I muttered then I moved forward towards everyone. I heard Kavya say something to Rudra, but I decided to ignore it; I really didn’t want to get into any kind of fight right now.

Honestly, I felt uneasy. His presence was suffocating, and my hands curled into fists at my sides.

I moved over to sit with Preeti Aunty and started chatting about the lehenga and sherwani.

Every now and then, I couldn’t help but glance his way. He was just in a corner with Kavya, who was practically on his lap. It made me wonder why neither of our families said anything about that. If my sister ended up with him, it would be a disaster for her. He really disgusts me.

Suddenly, our eyes locked; he was staring right into mine—cold, brown eyes with a hint of hazel, long lashes framing them, a few strands of hair falling across his forehead. He looked worn out, almost as if he hadn’t slept in days, clearly stretched out.

Out of nowhere, Kavya placed her hand on his cheek, urging him to look at her. Ugh, I can't even comprehend how he finds her appealing.

As time passed, we reached the evening when we settled on what my sister wanted for the wedding. Since I'll be the one wearing it, my opinion carried a lot more weight in it.

I looked around, realizing I hadn't seen Rudra in the past couple of hours—he was nowhere to be found. Meanwhile, Kavya was chatting away with Vinay Uncle.

I was honestly relieved he was gone; I could finally breathe easier.

After making our decisions and taking measurements, we exited the store and were saying our goodbyes

when Radhika suggested we go out. Everyone declined because we were all exhausted. Kavya had vanished for an urgent call—who knows what that was about.

Radhika and Vartik were buzzing with excitement, so our parents told us to go ahead while they headed home.

They bid farewell, and just as we were trying to figure out where to go, Vartik chimed in, "I have an idea!" He seemed overly enthusiastic, and I felt a twinge of apprehension.

"What is it?" Radhika exclaimed with excitement, while Vartik glanced at me and quietly whispered something into her ear.

"What’s going on? If you guys are planning some sort of game, count me out," I said, crossing my arms defiantly.

"Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad," Vartik assured me, but I wasn't convinced.

Then, a car pulled up behind us—it was Rudra's. Why was he here? I felt a wave of frustration wash over me.

“Avni, what’s that?” Vartik nervously pointed behind me, and I instinctively turned around, asking where.

But when I turned back, I found no one there. “Crap,” I muttered under my breath; they had tricked me. I caught sight of them getting into Vartik's car. By the time i sprinted towards the car ,they were laughing as they sped off, leaving me stranded.

“Enjoy your day!” they laughed as they sped off. I shouted after them, but they ignored me completely.

They really left me behind. What was I supposed to do now? How was I meant to get home?

I started cursing them—what on earth was I supposed to do now?

As I attempted to call for a cab, the car door beside me swung open. I looked up from my phone to see Rudra stepping out. “Crap, he’s here too. I totally forgot,” I murmured to myself, regretting my life choices.

He wore a white silk shirt, a rich black tie hugging his neck ,sleeves rolled, black tailored pants hugging his frame. His curls were messy, falling into his eyes, and yet his gaze was razor-sharp, pinned on me and Within seconds, he was right in front of me.

I tried to ignore him and keep searching for a cab. It was nearly 8 PM, and I was both hungry and angry—well, more like hangry.

“Get in the car,” he said in a cold tone, looking straight at me with a fierce gaze.

I stayed silent, continuing to ignore him.

“I’m not going to say it again,” he snapped, moving as if he would take my phone away.

I glanced up and replied with a slightly defiant tone, “You can leave; I’m fine.” Then I returned to search for a cab, feeling utterly frustrated with both Vartik and Radhika.

He grabbed my wrist—not enough to hurt me, but firm enough to keep me from moving further.

“What the hell?” I muttered under my breath, knowing it was pointless—it felt like I was stuck here .

Should I run? Scream? Kick him? Nothing seemed rational since he was twice my size. Feeling defeated, I just fell silent.

He didn’t answer. He just led me toward his car like the world belonged to him.

“You’re a jerk,” I spat, meeting his gaze with all the fire I had left. “Has anyone ever told you that?”

He rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath, and pushed me into the seat.

The second he walked around to his side, I bolted, shoving the door open and running.

I kicked off my heels and bolted down the street like a Bollywood heroine escaping a villain. Except the “villain” was Rudra Singh Rathore in his silk beautiful shirt and fitted pants , running like his entire political career depended on catching me.

“Avnika!” Rudra barked, trying to keep his dignity while dodging a street dog. “Stop this nonsense right now!”

I turned my head, still sprinting. “Oh wow, Mr. Arrogant, you can run? I thought you only knew how to walk slowly while glaring at people!”

“You think this is funny?” Rudra growled, already out of breath but refusing to show it. “Do you know how insane you look?”

“Oh please,” I shouted back, weaving between two aunties buying vegetables. “At least I don’t look like a penguin in a tie chasing after me!”

The vendor laughed, nearly dropping his tomatoes.

“Penguin?!” Rudra’s jaw tightened as he almost tripped on a pothole. “I am not a penguin!”

“Then what are you?” I giggled mid-run. “A dinosaur? Because the anger issues definitely fit!”

Rudra lunged, almost catching my wrist, but I spun away. “You—You childish little—”

“Childish?” I snorted, hopping over a puddle. “Excuse me, Mr. Serious Face, you’re literally sprinting through the streets after me. People will think you’re my stalker!”

A kid pointed at us, laughing: “Bhaiya, didi is winning!”

Rudra’s face went red. “I don’t lose!”

“Ohhh, keep telling yourself that!” I yelled, sticking my tongue out before darting into another lane.

[By now, half the street had stopped to watch the spectacle — strict CEO Rudra Singh Rathore chasing clumsy, bold Avnika Arora, both yelling insults that sounded more like… flirting.]

Rudra finally lunged and caught me by the wrist, yanking me back with a triumphant smirk. “Got you,” he panted.

I blinked at him once… and then screamed at the top of my lungs, “HELP! KIDNAPPER! HE’S TRYING TO TAKE ME!”

The whole street froze. A pani puri wala nearly dropped his entire thela, an auto driver slammed his brakes so hard the passenger flew forward, and three aunties whipped out their dupattas like they were ready for war.

“Arre beta, leave the girl!” one aunty shouted, marching forward with the kind of energy only a retired wrestling champion could have.

Before Rudra could explain, a little kid picked up a stone and launched it at Rudra's direction. “Let her go, bad uncle!” the kid yelled.

Rudra winced. “Avni, for God’s sake—”

But I was already in full-on Oscar-winning mode, wriggling in his grip like a fish out of water. “See?! He won’t let me go! Somebody call the police!” I wailed dramatically.

Now, at least five people had their phones out, recording the scene. Someone even shouted, “Put it on Instagram reels!”

Rudra—CEO, heir of Rathore Heritage, soon-to-be in-laws’ pride—stood there, holding the giggling me , looking like the most suspicious kidnapper in city.

Finally, he bent down, gritting his teeth, and muttered so only I could hear: “When this video goes viral, I’m suing you for defamation.”

I just batted my lashes sweetly. “Relax, Rudra. Think of it as… free publicity.”

Things were getting pretty intense, so I told everyone I was just kidding. They looked at me like I’d grown another head, and some even told us to act our age.

“See, now they’re giving me a hard time because of you,” he snapped, clearly irritated and out of breath.

“Whatever,” I replied, rolling my eyes and realizing it was kind of amusing. I then walked toward the car because I knew it was pointless to stick around, plus I was really hungry.

“Let’s go, I’m starving,” I said, ignoring him. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but then he just trailed behind me, making sure I wouldn’t bail on him again.

He drove me home, and since I was hungry, I decided to order food. He suggested we eat out, but I turned him down because I didn’t want to hang out with him. He didn’t push it, and the ride back was pretty quiet.

After dropping me off, he left, and I stood in front of my house, feeling overwhelmed with thoughts about how things might fall apart. I shook it off and went inside after he drove away.

Once I had dinner, I said goodnight to my parents and headed to bed. What a crazy day! I could already feel another storm brewing after 1 week....

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