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Here is the Next Part of this FF

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Continued from last chapter :

Not proofread yet.

Please ignore the mistakes and typos.

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GUPTA HOUSE :

The air in the Gupta house crackled with fury as Sheetal hurled objects across the room, her rage a wildfire. Glass shattered, books thudded, and Garima's attempts to soothe her daughter fell flat against the storm.

"Mamma!" Sheetal's voice was a raw scream, trembling with betrayal. "I know Papa loves that girl more than anything-even more than me! But aren't I his daughter too? Why do Papa and Buaji treat me like garbage? And today, Buaji crossed every line, calling me worthless, good-for-nothing! She slapped you for that orphan bitch!"

Her words, sharp and venomous, carried no apology for their cruelty. "And what did Papa do? Nothing! He backed her, insulted us alongside her. How could he?"

Garima's eyes gleamed with pride at her daughter's fire. "Wait and see, mamma," Sheetal hissed, her laugh dark and malicious. "Just like she stole everything from me, I'll snatch her everything one day. That'll be my revenge."

Garima nodded, her smile mirroring Sheetal's venom. "Get ready, bitiya," she said, leaving Sheetal to prepare for the night that could change her fate.

When Sheetal emerged, draped in a sultry gown, Garima's face lit up. "You're stunning, baby!" she gushed, unable to hold back her awe at her daughter's beauty.

A car horn blared outside, cutting through their moment. Garima peeked out and saw a handsome man step from a sleek, expensive car-Indar, Sheetal's friend. She teased, "Oho, bitiya, who's this dashing escort?"

Sheetal rolled her eyes. "Mamma, stop! Indar's just a friend who got me this project."

Garima winked. "Alright, have fun. And see if you can, charm ASR."

Indar's jaw dropped as he took in Sheetal's appearance. "Whoa, you're looking hot," he said, grinning.

Sheetal shrugged, buckling her seatbelt. "Done flirting? Let's go, or we'll be late."

Indar smirked and started the car. All through the drive, Sheetal bubbled with excitement, her words tumbling over each other. "I can't wait to meet ASR. He's the key to everything."

•──────☆──────•

SHEESH-MAHAL: THE PARTY VENUE

Sheetal's breath caught as she stepped into the glittering chaos of the party. She'd never seen anything like it-not in Lucknow. Business tycoons, Bollywood stars, media vultures-every name that mattered was here, their presence electrifying the air.

She felt like a minnow in a shark tank, yet her ambition burned brighter than her nerves.

A hush fell as she entered with Indar, all eyes turning to her. "You've raised the hotness quotient, gorgeous," Indar whispered, his voice teasing but warm. Sheetal's lips curled into an arrogant smirk, reveling in the attention, already imagining herself as the night's queen.

But the real buzz wasn't about her. It was about him-The ASR.

Arnav Singh Raizada's arrival in Lucknow was the night's obsession, his name whispered like a spell. Even before he appeared, his shadow loomed over the venue, commanding every thought, every glance.

Sheetal's eyes darted, searching for him. "Indar, tell me more about ASR," she pressed, impatient.

Before Indar could answer, the air shifted, charged with an electric hum. Four men in black suits swept in, flanking a tall figure in a sharp gray three-piece suit.

"Yes, sir, you can come now. All clear," the gray-suited man spoke into his phone.

Moments later, a gleaming black Mercedes-Benz purred to a stop at the entrance.

The crowd held its breath, eyes locked on the main doors. Then he appeared-Arnav Singh Raizada, the prince of the Malik and Raizada empires, the unchallenged king of fashion. His presence was a force, commanding silence as cameras flashed and reporters scrambled for a glimpse. The media went feral, desperate for a single word from The ASR.

Sheetal's gaze locked on him, greed and desire dripping from her stare. "Is that him?" she whispered to Indar, her voice thick with ambition.

Indar's eyes held something unreadable-caution, perhaps? He nodded slowly.

She prepared to greet ASR, her smile practiced and sultry, certain he was heading her way. But he brushed past her, his gaze sliding over her like she was invisible. Humiliation stung her.

"How dare he ignore me, Sheetal Gupta, like I'm nobody?" she hissed.

"Who does he think he is?"

Indar rolled his eyes. "He's the KING, Sheetal. He can ignore you or anyone. If you want to impress him, lose that ego and go to him."

She glared, stung. "Weren't you my friend just a minute ago?" she snapped, sarcasm lacing her words.

Indar shrugged. "I'm telling you what it takes to make it in this world. That's all."

Sheetal's eyes followed ASR as he addressed the media, his voice smooth but commanding. "Well, ASR, you're finally here," a reporter called.

"Back in Lucknow after so long-what's this new project about?"

Arnav's answers were measured, each word calculated. After a lengthy exchange, he signaled his manager, Aman, to clear the press. Aman moved swiftly to obey.

•──────☆──────•

LATER,

As Arnav spoke with elite clients, Mr. Ahuja approached, Sheetal in tow. "ASR, meet Sheetal Gupta, our new model," he said.

Arnav's gaze lingered on Sheetal, his eyes unreadable, flickering with something dark-anger? Recognition? She mistook it for awe, convinced he was captivated by her beauty. Her dreams of fame and wealth felt within reach. This was her moment.

After a long pause, Arnav spoke, his voice low. "Hello, Miss Gupta." He glanced at Ahuja. "Good choice." His smirk sent Sheetal soaring to cloud nine.

"So, Miss Sheetal, I hear you're a model," he continued. "It'll be... interesting to work with you." He extended his hand, and she shook it, her confidence surging.

Aman, standing nearby, frowned. He'd never seen his boss praise anyone so quickly-especially not him, Arnav's loyal manager and punching bag. What was this? He scratched his head, uneasy.

Moments later, Arnav announced, "I need to go, Ahuja." As he and Aman turned to leave, Sheetal boldly asked, "ASR, could I get a lift?"

Arnav raised an eyebrow, a sly glance flickering to someone in the crowd before he smirked. "Sure, Miss Gupta. Aman, take another car."

Aman nodded, masking his confusion, and left.

"Good night, Ahuja. See you tomorrow," Arnav said, then turned to Sheetal. "Come, Miss Gupta."

She smiled, seductive. "Call me Sheetal, ASR. Miss Gupta's so formal."

His reply was ice. "We're not friends, Miss Gupta. Let's keep it that way."

Her smile faltered, but in her mind, she smirked. You'll call me Sheetal soon, ASR. And not just call-you'll be moaning my name. Her thoughts were dark, ambitious, blind to the danger she was chasing.

After dropping her off, Arnav drove alone to a secret destination, his face unreadable, his intentions cloaked in shadow.

•──────☆──────•

NEXT DAY: ARF STUDIO, LUCKNOW

Sheetal woke at dawn, adrenaline pumping. It was her first day at AR, and she couldn't afford to be late-ASR's reputation for hating tardiness was legendary. Skipping breakfast, she rushed to the studio.

She struck poses with precision, every move calculated to impress. When Arnav arrived to oversee the shoot, her heart leaped. 'He's here for me,' she thought, smirking inwardly, convinced he was falling into her web. A proposal couldn't be far off.

If only she knew.

She greeted him, but he merely nodded, his disinterest a slap to her ego. Still, she saw his presence as a victory, missing the cold edge in his gaze.

Suddenly, he called out, "Miss Gupta, be ready by lunch. We're dining out." He stormed off without a glance, his tone robotic, devoid of warmth.

Sheetal's excitement blinded her to the warning signs.

•──────☆──────•

ASR'S CABIN :

In his office, Arnav instructed Aman to cancel all lunch meetings. Aman blinked, stunned. "Sir, those meetings are critical for the project. Will the investors-"

"I'm the boss, Aman," Arnav snapped, his voice like a blade. "Don't tell me what to do. Understand?" He left, leaving Aman reeling.

Aman's shock deepened. Arnav never canceled meetings without cause, and this coldness was new. Something was wrong-Arnav was stressed, hiding something dark. But what?

Aman's gut twisted, sensing trouble.

•──────☆──────•

LUNCH AT LUCKNOW'S FINEST RESTAURANT

Sheetal arrived at the car park, spotting Arnav's sleek vehicle waiting. "Sorry, ASR," she said, breathless. "The shoot ran late."

He nodded, barely acknowledging her, and gestured for her to get in. They drove to Lucknow's most lavish restaurant, its opulence leaving Sheetal wide-eyed. Arnav watched her, his expression unreadable, emotions swirling beneath the surface-anger, calculation, something deeper.

Over the project's duration, their interactions grew frequent, their proximity closer. Sheetal saw it as her triumph, oblivious to the storm brewing in Arnav's heart.

•──────☆──────•

One day, Aman cornered Arnav, his concern breaking through. "I've been watching you, Arnav. You're in love, aren't you?"

"Yes," Arnav replied, his voice flat, emotionless.

Aman pressed, his voice soft but urgent. "What's wrong, buddy? I'm not just your manager-I'm your brother too. You're not happy. What's eating you? You know I can't stand seeing you like this."

Arnav's eyes darkened, lost in thought. Love. The word was a blade, cutting deep. Love drove people to extremes, to cross any line for a single smile. He'd do anything for her smile, to light up his world. But something-someone-stood in the way. His jaw clenched, rage simmering, but he held it back, his silence a wall Aman couldn't breach.

Aman sighed and left, his heart heavy. He knew Sheetal wasn't right for Arnav, but loyalty kept him quiet. Yet seeing his friend so lost, so burdened, he couldn't stay silent forever.

Arnav's mind drifted, tangled in memories. Love was his strength, his obsession. But it was also his torment. What was he hiding? And what would happen when the truth broke free?

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What's driving Arnav's distress?

What storm awaits Sheetal's ambition?

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Thank you,

Regards,
Dipanwita86
23/09/21