"Because it is said that many secrets and stories are hidden in the mountains...
So let's see what happens in this story."
---
The mountains of Shimla stood tall - silent witnesses to countless stories buried beneath their snow-covered peaks.
Some stories never made their way out.
Some... were never meant to.
But this story?
This one was about to be written in blood, fire... and obsession.
The cold breeze brushed against the winding roads, carrying whispers of something unseen - something waiting.
The sun had already begun its slow descent, casting faint golden streaks across the pale sky.
Somewhere between those lonely pine trees... destiny was preparing to collide.
A small red Maruti Alto crawled up the narrow road, its engine coughing with every turn.
Inside, Amaira Malhotra sat on the passenger seat - wrapped in her beige oversized sweater, her hazel eyes fixed on the never-ending curves ahead.
Her long dark hair fell messily over her shoulders, slightly damp from the evening mist.
She didn't belong to this silence.
No.
She was the kind of girl who carried chaos wherever she went - wrapped in sunshine smiles and sugar-coated sarcasm.
But right now... she was calm.
Too calm.
Maybe even the mountains were holding their breath - waiting to see what would happen when fire meets ice.
"I swear to God, Riya... if this car breaks down one more time, I'm leaving you both in this jungle to find your own way back."
Amaira's voice broke through the heavy silence, half playful - half serious.
Her best friend Riya clutched the steering wheel tighter, glaring at her like a mother ready to disown her own child.
"Shut up, Amaira! Ruby Baby has been with me through all my heartbreaks, okay? Show some respect."
Amaira rolled her eyes.
"Yeah? Well, by the sound of it, Ruby Baby is one heartbreak away from her own funeral."
Riya gasped dramatically.
"You're a heartless woman."
Amaira smirked.
"And you're driving a car that belongs in a museum."
The teasing banter echoed between the mountains - two girls wrapped in the simple, messy joys of life.
But destiny?
Destiny was never simple.
It always had a way of slipping into the most ordinary moments.
And right now... it was hiding just around the next turn.
A sudden beam of headlights flickered through the mist.
Far away.
Faint.
Yet somehow... intimidating.
Amaira didn't notice it at first.
But the mountains did.
Even the wind seemed to still.
The black Rolls Royce glided down the road like a panther lurking in the shadows - silent, powerful, and built to destroy anything that came in its way.
Its glossy surface reflected the last dying rays of sunlight - a beast disguised in elegance.
Inside sat Reyansh Singhania.
A man carved out of cold steel and darker secrets.
His honey brown eyes stared straight ahead - void of any warmth, void of any emotion.
His fingers tapped against the steering wheel in a slow rhythm - as if time itself bowed down to him.
He was used to silence.
He preferred it.
Because in silence... even the smallest sound became a warning.
He would have driven past - unnoticed, untouched.
But then...
Fate played its first move.
The red Alto skidded forward.
A sharp turn.
A miscalculation.
A soft thud echoed through the frozen air.
It was barely a scratch.
Barely anything.
But in that single heartbeat...
two lives crashed into each other.
Amaira's breath caught.
Oh... shit.
Her hazel eyes flicked towards the black car in front of them - a luxury beast standing like royalty in the middle of the road.
Her heart started hammering against her ribs.
"This... this can't be happening," she whispered.
Riya's face had already drained of color.
Amaira swallowed.
"It's just a little scratch... right?"
She wanted to believe it.
But somehow... she knew.
Somehow... she felt it deep inside her chest.
They had just scratched the wrong man's car.
And then the door opened.
Slow.
Calculated.
Like the devil himself had all the time in the world.
First, came the black leather shoes - polished to perfection, stepping onto the cold ground.
Then... the long black coat, draped over broad shoulders like a second skin.
And finally...
Him.
Reyansh Singhania didn't just walk - he owned every inch of the space around him without even trying.
His tall frame towered against the fading light - a dark silhouette carved out of shadows.
Those honey brown eyes flicked towards the scratch.
A small... barely-there tick appeared on his sharp jawline.
No one else would have noticed it.
But Amaira did.
Somehow... she felt that tiny crack in his perfect mask.
Like a storm was building inside him - waiting to be unleashed.
He didn't speak.
He didn't need to.
His silence was louder than any threat.
Amaira's heart pounded.
Her throat felt dry.
But still...
her mouth?
It had a death wish of its own.
"It's... just a scratch," she blurted out.
For the first time... his eyes locked onto her.
Time froze.
The air shifted.
Those honey brown eyes...
they were like liquid fire - slow, burning, deadly.
"Did I ask for your opinion... sunshine?"
His voice was low.
Rough.
The kind of voice that could make the bravest souls beg for mercy.
Amaira's breath caught.
Her knees wobbled.
But her tongue?
Still suicidal.
"Well... you're staring at the car like it's going to fix itself, Mister Rolls Royce. Thought I'd save you the trouble."
Something flickered in his eyes.
Amusement?
Annoyance?
Even Amaira couldn't tell.
But whatever it was...
It made him take a step closer.
"Careful, princess..." he murmured, his breath brushing against her frozen lips.
"You might not like what happens when you play games with the wrong man."
Amaira's heart slammed against her chest.
God... why did he smell like that?
Like expensive danger wrapped in sin.
But she lifted her chin higher - masking the chaos inside her.
"Good thing... I don't scare easy."
A ghost of a smirk touched his lips.
It was small.
Barely there.
But it was the first crack in the mask.
Reyansh Singhania didn't know it yet...
But in that single heartbeat - in that one spark of defiance -
she had already begun unraveling him.
Neither of them blinked.
Neither of them looked away.
It wasn't attraction.
Not yet.
It was something darker.
Something twisted.
The kind of connection that could either burn the wh
ole world down...
or break them both into pieces.
Some stories begin with love.
Theirs began with war.
........
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