Chapter 54 His Sweetheart's Call
Slowly, evening spreads its hues across the sky. The clouds blend orange and blue, painting a serene, calming view. Along with this tranquil dusk, a new chapter in Rimjhim’s life unfolds a journey she hadn’t imagined but now steps into. Inside the haveli, Rimjhim quietly packs her essentials: a few clothes, some books, countless memories. Her face holds a strange calm, as if she has made peace with whatever life has written for her.
Vihan’s bodyguards enter the haveli, carrying her belongings with great care and respect to Vihan’s waiting car. At the entrance, Vihan and Chaudhary Sahab stand together. Vihan wears a simple white shirt and blue jeans, but his commanding presence makes him look no less than a prince. His face is calm, but his eyes carry an intensity reflecting his inner storm.
Chaudhary Sahab folds his hands with fatherly affection. “Vihan Babu, if my daughter ever makes a mistake… please forgive her, considering she is still so young.”
Vihan quickly lowers his hands, bowing slightly. “Chaudhary Sahab, you are like a father to me. Your hands are meant to give blessings, not ask for forgiveness. And about Rimjhim, don’t worry. I will never let any harm come to her.”
The haveli door opens, and Rimjhim steps out. Her footsteps are light, almost hesitant, but her face glows with quiet grace and ethereal beauty. Vihan’s eyes widen in surprise he hadn’t expected her to look so breathtaking.
She wears a red suit with matching trousers, elegant and perfectly fitted. A dupatta drapes over one shoulder, her long hair flows softly in the evening breeze. Tiny earrings adorn her ears, and a small white bindi sits perfectly on her forehead. Her face radiates as if she carries a light within her.
For a moment, Vihan forgets everything. His thoughts, surroundings all vanish in her presence. Realizing he is staring, he quickly looks away, trying to mask his reaction, though his face betrays the turmoil in his heart.
Chaudhary Sahab hugs Rimjhim lovingly. “You look so beautiful, my dear… like a fairy.”
Rimjhim keeps her gaze lowered, embraces her father, then steps back. Together, she and Vihan bow to receive his blessings. Chaudhary Sahab places his hands gently on their heads. “May you both always be happy. Wherever you go, may peace and joy follow you always.”
Vihan adds, “The work for the factory on the land has already begun. If there’s any issue, please don’t hesitate to tell me.”
Chaudhary Sahab nods with a warm smile. Vihan walks over to the car, opens the door, and gestures for Rimjhim to get in. Silently, she takes her seat, and Vihan sits beside her. The driver starts the car, and slowly they drive out of the haveli gates. Behind them follows another car carrying Vihan’s bodyguards.
Chaudhary Sahab watches them leave. Tears well up tears of happiness, but also of sorrow the bittersweet pain of bidding farewell to a beloved daughter.
Inside the car, Vihan and Rimjhim are silent. They stare out the window, their thoughts lost, tangled in the storm within. Neither speaks.
Darkness settles deep in the heart of the jungle. An eerie silence fills the air, but hidden within it is the tension of an impending storm. A cold wind sweeps across the ground, carrying an unspoken fear that could make even the strongest hearts tremble.
Amidst this suffocating stillness, a black SUV speeds down a rough, unpaved jungle path. The screech of its tires tears through the quiet as the vehicle comes to a sudden halt. The door swings open with force, and Samar steps out.
His face is stone-cold, eyes burning with sharp intensity as if he can pierce through the darkness and uncover every hidden truth. Every movement carries weight, authority, a silent declaration of command. He glances around once, measuring everything, but speaks not a word. In the distance, at the edge of the jungle clearing, a black private jet waits.
A few men stand near the jet, at attention. As Samar approaches, they bow respectfully in unison.
Walking with firm, unhurried steps, the King, as he is known, reaches them. His voice is cold, deep, filled with silent menace. “Speak quickly… What have you found?”
One man steps forward, folding his hands nervously. “King… there’s a woman. She’s a spy. She entered India recently. Michael sent her to gather information on you, to report everything back to him.”
Samar’s expression darkens instantly. A storm rages in his eyes as he takes a threatening step forward. “Who is she?”
Another man, visibly shaken, replies with fear in his voice, “King, we don’t know. We tried everything—searched for photos, records, anything—but found nothing.”
Samar’s anger erupts. “I want her full information. Her name, her face, everything. She cannot hide from me. I will find her no matter where she runs on this earth.”
A third man steps forward quickly, bowing his head. “Yes, King… we are trying our best. We will uncover everything soon.”
The moment is tense. Without wasting another second, the men board the jet swiftly and precisely. The engines roar to life, humming powerfully, and within moments it ascends into the night sky.
Samar stands alone, unmoved, his mind racing. With the same silent fury, he gets back into his car. The engine growls, headlights slicing through the dark, and the vehicle speeds away, vanishing into the jungle’s shadowy depths.
He has just sat down when his phone screen lights up. Seeing the name “Sweetheart” flashing, his face tightens with irritation and anger. He answers in a cold, sharp voice, “Why did you call me?”
On the other end, my gentle, loving voice flows through the line. I can hear the sharp edge in his tone, and yet I try to soften it with my words, hoping to reach him despite the distance.
With all the warmth I can muster, I say, “Listen… can you please come and pick me up?”
There’s a pause on the other end. I can almost hear his surprise, feel it in the silence that follows. Then his voice returns, edged with restrained anger. “Why? Weren’t you supposed to be gone for a few days? What happened now?”