The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden hue over Udaipur, but inside the opulent walls of the Rajput mansion, the atmosphere was thick with tension. Vidyut Rana leaned against the grand marble staircase, his arms crossed, watching the guests mingle with forced charm. The annual Rajput gala was in full swing, and his family expected nothing less than perfection. But beneath the surface, a storm brewed.
“Vidyut,” his Dada ji's voice broke through his thoughts. Vinay Rajput, an imposing figure even in his old age, approached with his usual air of authority. “You must choose a bride soon. The family is beginning to worry.”
Vidyut’s jaw tightened. “I have no interest in marriage, Dada ji. My focus is on the state.”
“Your focus should also be on ensuring our lineage,” Vinay replied, a note of reprimand in his tone. “A leader must have a partner by his side.”
Vidyut turned his gaze to the bustling crowd, searching for a distraction. His attention landed on a figure standing near the entrance—Meera Chauhan. She looked lost amidst the swirling extravagance, her eyes wide with wonder and perhaps a hint of apprehension.
He hadn’t anticipated seeing her here. Meera was a stark contrast to the world he inhabited, one defined by power and ruthlessness. She embodied kindness and innocence, qualities he had long dismissed as weaknesses. Yet, he found himself drawn to her.
“Dada ji, if you’ll excuse me,” he said, already striding toward her.
“Vidyut!” Vinay called after him, but his words fell on deaf ears.
As Vidyut approached, Meera caught his eye and offered a shy smile, though her nervousness was palpable. It stirred something within him—a flicker of warmth in the cold fortress of his heart.
“Meera,” he greeted, his voice low and measured. “What brings you here?”
“I—I was invited,” she stammered, glancing around at the extravagant decorations. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
“It is,” he replied, his gaze unwavering. “But beauty can be deceiving. This world is not as it appears.”
Her brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”
Before he could reply, the sound of laughter erupted nearby, drawing their attention. A group of young men laughed boisterously, and one of them, Vyom, Vidyut’s cousin, strode over, a mischievous glint in his eye.
“Vidyut! There you are! I thought I’d lost you to the serious business of politics,” he teased, then turned to Meera. “And who is this lovely lady?”
“This is Meera. She’s an architecture student,” Vidyut replied tersely, feeling an unexpected urge to protect her from the frivolousness he loathed.
“Ah, an artist among us! We need more creativity in this family,” Vyom declared, winking at Meera. “Care to join us for a drink?”
“I—” Meera hesitated, glancing at Vidyut for reassurance.
“Perhaps not,” Vidyut interjected, his tone sharper than intended. “Meera and I were just discussing the gala.”
“Right,” Vyom said, taken aback. “Well, if you change your mind, the bar is just over there.” He sauntered away, laughter trailing behind him.
A silence hung between Vidyut and Meera, filled with unspoken words. Finally, Meera broke it. “You don’t like him, do you?”
Vidyut smirked, the corner of his mouth curling upward. “He’s just a distraction. Like this gala.”
“Maybe,” she replied, her voice soft, “but distractions can be fun.”
His gaze locked onto hers, a flicker of intrigue igniting. “Fun is not something I prioritize.”
“Maybe you should,” she countered lightly, a hint of challenge in her tone. “Life isn’t all about duty. It’s about living, too.”
The unexpected depth of her words struck him. Was this the kind of love she craved? A sentiment he had long deemed unnecessary? He could feel the walls he had built around himself beginning to crack, but he quickly steeled his resolve.
“I don’t have time for distractions,” he said, a hint of finality in his voice.
But as he stepped back, the fleeting moment lingered in the air. Meera watched him leave, her heart heavy with an unnameable longing.
Meanwhile, a figure lurked in the shadows of the gala, observing the two. A woman, cloaked in elegance yet radiating menace—Nisha Malik, a rival politician with a vendetta against Vidyut. She had come to Udaipur with a singular purpose: to dismantle Vidyut’s power.
“Interesting,” Nisha murmured to herself, her lips curling into a sinister smile. “Let’s see how this unfolds.”
As the night deepened, the threads of fate began to intertwine, setting the stage for a clash of worlds that neither Vidyut nor Meera could foresee. The stakes were rising, and the battle for love and power was only just beginning.
After his conversation with Meera, Vidyut joined his cousins Vyom and Vikrant and his best friends Abhimanyu Rathode and Ved Singhania for drinks. As the time passed by Vidyut's gaze still lingered on Meera. Abhimanyu couldn't help but spoke to Vidyut at last, "It's very rare or I should say impossible for anyone to have your attention, then what's so special about that girl?"
"She isn't just any girl Abhi. She is the first girl to draw my attention towards her from the first glance. There is something about her that drives me crazy, that makes me want to know all of her, to know about the things she hide behind her pretty smile. Her those chocolate-brown eyes makes me want to drown in them." , Vidyut replied. The way he described those words about her clearly states that he is in love with her. Ved said to Vidyut, " Man you're totally in love with that architecture student." Hearing to this Vidyut just shook his head and replied, "Its impossible for me to fall in love and afterall it's just a waste of time". And listening to this his two best friends just laughed at their stupid best friend who has fallen head over heels for a girl but still refuses to accept it.
Here is the first chapter of HIS DOVE. Let me know your thoughts About this.
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