♡ Welcome to Chapter 2, my lovelies.
Grab your heart, breathe in deep...
because this is where their worlds quietly begin to shift.
Happy Reading! 🤗__________________________
The world outside was still wrapped in a quiet blue-grey haze, the kind of gentle dawn where even the wind seemed to sleep. Streets were empty, windows closed, and households unmoving. It was the kind of morning that asked for rest, peace, and a slow beginning.
But inside the sprawling Singh mansion, one man had already awakened before the sun.
The house was silent-
everybody in deep sleep-
except him.
Siddharth Malhotra room stood at the far end of the mansion, isolated, away from the warmth and chatter of the family hallways. Large glass windows stretched across one wall, the early light brushing his polished wooden floors.
The room wasn't decorated with warmth or emotion.
No photos on walls.
No childhood trophies.
No soft colours.
Only clean lines, dark tones, and sharp edges.
A king-sized bed with a grey duvet.
A black bookshelf filled with business journals.
A desk with arranged files placed with geometric precision.
Two dumbbells near the corner.
A punching bag hanging silently.
An untouched piano collecting dust by the window-
gifted by his grandmother when he was young...
but never used.
Everything about this room reflected the man it belonged to:
disciplined, cold, distant, and unapproachable.
People often said that the temperature around him felt a little lower than normal.
Not because he was rude.
But because his aura itself carried an icy stillness-
the kind that warned others to stay in their lane.
He wasn't someone people dared to like.
He wasn't someone people dared to hate either.
He was simply a storm wrapped in quiet.
At 4:30 AM sharp, Siddharth opened his eyes-
not because of an alarm,
but because he trained his body to wake before dawn.
He sat upright, expression calm, eyes sharp even after a night of barely four hours of sleep.
He didn't stretch lazily.
He didn't check his phone.
He didn't sit groggy or slow.
He stood up immediately and walked to the mirror.
His reflection was the same every day
stern jawline, deep-set eyes, thick brows, and a permanently unreadable expression.
He wasn't traditionally handsome like movie heroes.
But there was something dangerously attractive about him-
a power in his posture,
a sharpness in his gaze,
a masculine confidence in the way he carried himself.
His presence alone made people straighten up.
He brushed his hair back, washed his face, and tied his shoelaces.
It was time for his routine.
The only time of day where his mind felt quiet.
The only time where he didn't have to speak, decide, or lead.
The private gym in the mansion's basement was large, filled with state-of-the-art equipment. Only Siddharth used it regularly. His father visited twice a week. His sister came once a month. His grandmother came sometimes only to scold the trainer for charging too much.
But Siddharth-
he was the gym's heartbeat.
He began with weights, lifting with controlled precision, his muscles tightening and relaxing with mechanical discipline. His breaths were steady, his focus absolute.
Sweat dripped down his forehead, sliding along the lines of his strong arms, the veins visible from the pressure he exerted.
Other men worked out to look good.
Siddharth worked out to stay sane.
With every punch to the heavy bag-
he released stress.
With every lift-
he released anger.
With every sprint-
he outran expectations.
People only saw the cold, intimidating CEO.
No one saw the man who fought against himself every morning.
An hour later, he finished with a final punch so powerful that the bag swung back violently.
He wiped his face with a towel, chest rising and falling.
This was the only time of day where he felt human.
After showering, he dressed in a crisp navy shirt, tailored black pants, and a formal watch. He adjusted his sleeves with practiced elegance.
This was the moment he became SIDDHARTH MALHOTRA, the man the world feared.
Unlike him, the rest of the house woke up buzzing with noise.
At the breakfast table, chaos had already begun.
His grandmother, Savitri Devi, sat at the head of the table, commenting on everyone's lives with authority.
His mother, Rekha Prakash Malhotra, was giving instructions to the servants.
His father, Prakash Malhotra, was buried in the newspaper.
His younger sister, Ankita Malhotra, was talking on the phone while doing her makeup.
His chachi, Sunita malhotra, was serving food nervously while her 18-year-old son, Aarav malhotra, sat beside her tapping on his gaming device.
When Siddharth stepped into the dining hall, the energy shifted instantly.
Conversations lowered.
Chairs straightened.
Postures fixed.
Even the dog stopped barking.
Such was his presence.
His grandmother brightened. "Ah! My favourite grandson."
Rekha smiled proudly, "Good morning, Siddhu."
Ankita whispered to her cousin, "He looks like he's about to fire someone again."
Aarav hid behind his mother slightly, whispering, "Bhaiya is scary..."
Prakash simply nodded. "Sit."
Siddharth sat down quietly.
Rekha served him parathas. "You barely eat. How do you expect to survive?"
He responded calmly, "I had a protein shake."
His grandmother clicked her tongue, "These modern boys! At your age I used to eat eight parathas."
Ankita giggled. "And now grandmother eats ten."
"Shut up!" the old lady snapped.
The table laughed-
except Siddharth.
He wasn't rude.
He simply didn't know how to join laughter.
He listened to everyone but said little.
His silence wasn't loneliness-
it was armour.
People respected him.
People admired him.
People feared him.
But nobody truly understood him.
Morning sunlight poured through the glass walls of Malhotra Corporations as the office buzzed with quiet urgency.
Employees straightened their posture, whispers softened, and chairs stilled-because the moment the elevator chimed open, Siddharth Malhotra stepped out.
Crisp suit, steady stride, and eyes sharp enough to silence a room, he carried authority the way some men carried charm-effortlessly, without trying.
His presence wasn't loud; it was disciplined, precise, like a storm that didn't need thunder to be felt.
Siddharth adjusted his cufflinks, expression unreadable, already reviewing the day's tasks in his mind.
To him, the office was not just a workplace-it was a battlefield he ruled with calm intelligence and unshakable control.
Siddharth walked into his office skyscraper.
Employees straightened their ID cards.
Managers stood from their desks.
Assistants checked their files.
Someone whispered:
"Sir arrived."
"Fix your tie!"
"Don't let him see the mistakes!"
"Eyes down! Don't make eye contact!"
His long strides, sharp gaze, and expressionless face sent a cold wave through every floor he passed.
Inside the lift, even senior directors avoided breathing loudly.
When he entered the conference room, the atmosphere turned stiff.
"Good morning," he said quietly.
That was enough.
Everyone stood.
He sat down at the head of the table, fingers interlocked.
"Begin."
The presentation started, but halfway through, a junior manager stuttered.
Siddharth raised a brow slightly.
The manager nearly fainted.
His calm voice carried more power than any shout:
"If you're not prepared, don't waste my time."
"I-I'm sorry, sir."
"Next slide."
His tone was not harsh, yet his authority made people sweat.
He didn't tolerate laziness.
He didn't accept excuses.
He demanded excellence.
And they feared disappointing him more than losing their jobs.
Later that evening, he had to attend a major business function-an event filled with investors, entrepreneurs, media, and high-profile businessmen.
He hated such functions.
He hated noise, useless conversation, fake smiles.
But appearances were important.
And his father insisted he attend.
So he went.
The moment he entered the hall-
the entire atmosphere shifted.
People turned.
Whispers rose.
Cameras focused.
"Look, the young CEO!"
"He's so intimidating..."
"He doesn't smile at all?"
"I heard he rejected a partnership worth crores because they were unprepared."
"He's too strict-but brilliant."
Every handshake was polite but cautious.
Every conversation was respectful but nervous.
They approached him carefully-
the way one approaches a lion.
"Mr. Siddharth Malhotra! Pleasure to see you."
"Sir, your company's growth is phenomenal!"
"Sir, would you like to speak to the press?"
He nodded occasionally, answered briefly, stayed to the point.
He didn't engage in small talk.
But he remained disciplined, graceful, professional.
People admired him.
People feared him.
Some even looked at him with desire
at his confidence, his authority, his self-control.
Women found him dangerously attractive.
But no one dared approach him openly.
He never drank at functions.
But today, after a stressful week, he picked up a glass of chilled fruit-infused drink offered by a server.
Raspberry mint.
He took one sip.
Then another.
It tasted normal.
But within minutes...
His vision blurred slightly.
He blinked. Once. Twice.
What...?
The lights suddenly felt too bright.
The background noise too loud.
The floor too unstable.
His chest tightened-not in pain, but in confusion.
His breathing grew fast.
His heartbeat uncomfortably slow.
His head felt heavy, as if someone had placed stones inside.
What... is happening?
He pressed two fingers to his temple.
He tried to stand still.
His legs wobbled.
He took a deep breath-
but it didn't help.
His throat felt dry.
His palms felt cold.
His ears buzzed.
People continued speaking to him, but their voices sounded distant, stretched, and echoing.
Where... am I looking?
Why can't I focus?
What is this dizziness?
He shut his eyes tightly.
This has never...
Never happened before.
He hated losing control-
even of a moment.
Even of a breath.
But now, he couldn't even trust his own body.
His vision dimmed around the edges.
Shapes blurred.
Faces merged.
Voices overlapped.
"Sir? Are you okay?"
"Mr. Siddharth, you look pale."
"Sir, please sit-"
He shook his head, struggling to stay composed.
His pride wouldn't allow him to show weakness.
But his legs gave a small tremor.
He grabbed the nearest table to steady himself.
The world tilted slightly-
then violently.
His heartbeat pounded unevenly in his chest.
I need... air.
He forced himself to walk away from the main hall, gripping chairs, tabletops, anything to keep balance.
His breath came out in short, sharp gasps.
The hallway spun around him.
He felt drunk-
but not like alcohol.
This was something else.
A heaviness.
A numbness.
A fog inside his mind.
He reached a quiet corner near the guest rooms of the venue.
He leaned against the wall, swallowing hard.
His thoughts became slow.
Disconnected.
His heartbeat slowed dangerously.
His eyelids grew heavy.
I... don't understand...
What... is happening...?
His vision faded again.
Someone rushed toward him.
"Sir! Sir, you're not well-come with me."
He couldn't see their face.
Everything was blurry silhouettes.
He tried to protest, but no words came out.
The person held his arm firmly, supporting his weight.
"It's okay, sir. Just lean on me."
He was guided slowly down the corridor-
his mind floating in confusion and panic.
The door opened.
A soft bed waited inside.
The helper lowered him gently onto the mattress.
He felt the bedsheets beneath him-
cold, unfamiliar, distant.
His head spun.
His chest felt heavy.
His eyes fluttered.
He tried to force them open-
but darkness pulled him down.
He heard a faint whisper before he lost consciousness.
"Sir... please just rest."
And then-
everything went black.
•"He fell into darkness... unaware that someone else's light was about to collide with his."
• "This night wasn't an accident. It was destiny's first move."
✨Glimpse of character 3
Roohi thought she was going to meet Raghav's family.
Instead, jealousy twisted fate, a drugged drink found the wrong hands
,
and she collapsed into a disaster waiting to happen.
Now she wakes up beside a stranger-Siddharth-
and her entire world is ready to burn her alive for it.
But he's about to say one sentence
that will change both their destinies forever.
______________________________________
Thank you for reading, pretties!🎀
Something huge is about to happen next -🤯
and it will change everything for both Roohi and Siddharth.
Stay tuned for Chapter 3! ♡
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