Chapter 2
1377 Words
In one of the most luxurious apartments in Mumbai, the morning sun found a narrow slit in the drawn curtains of the balcony doors.
The heavy, opulent fabric, designed to keep out the city's hustle, couldn't entirely block the persistent sun.
A single, sharp ray of sunlight pierced through the gap, slicing through the dim room with surgical precision, landing directly on the face of Ekansh Rathore as he slept.
The soft linens of his king-sized bed cradled him in comfort, but the intrusive beam of light forced him to stir.
Irritated, Ekansh turned away from the light, his face burrowing deeper into the plush, goose-down pillow in a futile attempt to reclaim the last remnants of sleep.
The high-thread-count sheets, cool against his skin, were a stark contrast to the warm, insistent sunlight.
Minutes later, the persistent ringing of his phone shattered the fragile silence of the morning.
The phone, a sleek, latest-model smartphone, vibrated insistently on the elegant mahogany bedside table.
His hand, emerging from beneath the plush pillow, groped for the phone with a languid, practiced motion.
With a groggy swipe, he silenced the call, only to have the phone ring again almost immediately.
Frustration flared in his half-closed eyes as he grabbed the device, the cool, smooth surface of the phone a stark contrast to the warmth of his hand.
He growled into it, his voice rough and deep with sleep.
"Who is it?" he snapped, a note of impatience evident.
"Sir, it's me, Arjun," came the calm, efficient voice of his assistant.
"Just a reminder about the ten o'clock meeting at the office.
"The call ended abruptly, leaving Ekansh staring at the ceiling, realizing the inevitability of the day.
Resigned to the demands of his schedule, he sighed deeply and decided to rise.
As he sat up, the blanket slipped from his chest, revealing his chiseled torso, a testament to countless hours of disciplined workouts and strict nutrition.
Standing at 6'3" with a muscular build and an eight-pack abdomen, Ekansh Rathore was the epitome of physical perfection.
His handsome face, framed by tousled, jet-black hair, was often the subject of admiration and envy.
Dark eyes, still heavy with sleep, scanned the room, taking in the modern, minimalist decor accented with luxurious touches - a designer rug, abstract art pieces, and state-of-the-art technology seamlessly integrated into the space.He swung his feet to the floor, feeling the cool, polished marble underfoot, and stood up slowly, the sunlight now fully bathing his impressive physique.
Moving to the balcony doors, he drew back the drapes entirely. The room was flooded with light, the panoramic view of Mumbai's skyline coming into sharp focus. The morning light illuminated his well-defined features, casting a golden hue over his skin.
Despite the beautiful weather outside, Ekansh's day was off to a rough start.
The headache that had begun as a dull throb now pulsed sharply in his temples.
Grimacing, he stepped back into the room, massaging his forehead in an attempt to alleviate the pain, but the headache persisted.
The grandeur of his surroundings offered little comfort as he paced back to the bed, the echoes of his assistant's reminder ringing in his ears.
With a sigh of resignation, he headed to the bathroom, knowing that a long, demanding day awaited him.
The city of Mumbai was waking up, and so was Ekansh Rathore, the eldest son of Subhash Rathore and the formidable CEO of SR Industries.
His day had begun, though not as smoothly as he would have liked.
-----------------
After a refreshing shower, Ekansh Rathore stepped out of the bathroom, steam trailing behind him.
The bathroom, a spacious and modern marvel of white marble and glass, gleamed under the soft lighting
He grabbed a plush, monogrammed towel, wrapping it around his waist as he moved towards his closet room.
The walk-in closet was more of a personal showroom, lined with custom-made shelves and racks, each displaying an impeccable array of designer suits, shirts, and accessories.
Ekansh lived alone by choice, preferring solitude over company in his luxurious apartment.
The only two people allowed in his space were the servants his mother had insisted upon, ensuring his home was kept pristine.
They came only after he had left for work and left before he returned, a condition he had enforced to maintain his privacy.Standing before his closet, Ekansh scanned his collection with a discerning eye.
Today's meeting was crucial, potentially propelling SR Industries into the ranks of the top five tech companies in the world. He reached for a bespoke navy blue suit, tailored to perfection.
The fabric was exquisite, soft yet structured, a testament to the craftsmanship of the renowned designer who had created it.He dressed meticulously, each movement precise and deliberate.
The crisp white shirt, the perfectly knotted silk tie, the polished leather shoes - every detail was immaculate.
Moving to his watch drawer, he opened it to reveal an impressive collection of the finest and most expensive timepieces.
He selected a platinum Rolex, its sleek design complementing his suit.
After a few sprays of his signature cologne, he stood before the full-length mirror. His reflection revealed a man of striking appearance, dark hair neatly styled, his sharp features exuding confidence and authority.
Satisfied with his appearance, Ekansh walked back to the bedroom, collecting his car keys from the nightstand.
Passing through the living room, he barely glanced at the tastefully decorated space.
The apartment, though luxurious, served mainly as his resting place, earning it the nickname "Riches."
He descended to the garage, where his collection of sports and luxury cars awaited.
Each vehicle was a testament to his success, their combined worth running into millions.
He chose a sleek, black Aston Martin for the day, appreciating its blend of elegance and power.
Sliding into the driver's seat, he started the engine, the car purring to life. Connecting his phone to the car's Bluetooth, he called his secretary.
"Good morning, Sir," He answered promptly.
"Morning." He replied thinking what so good about morning, he's having crazy headache here.
"Are all the preparations for the meeting in place?" Ekansh asked, his tone all business.
"Yes, Sir. Everything is set.
The presentation is ready, and the team is prepared," He confirmed.
"Good, also prepare my coffee, I am on my way to the office," he ordered, ending the call and focusing on the road.
Navigating through Mumbai's bustling cityscape was always a challenge, the constant traffic a headache in itself.
Adding to it was the persistent throbbing in his temples, a reminder of the previous night's excesses.
As he drove, memories of the night before resurfaced.
He had spent the evening with his friend Karan, who had been lamenting over his girlfriend.
Despite knowing how much Ekansh hated such discussions, Karan had pressed on, unloading his romantic woes.
To make matters worse, a woman at the bar had tried to get close to Ekansh.
Her unwanted advances had angered him, and if Karan hadn't intervened, the situation might have escalated.
Ekansh's disdain for such encounters was clear - he believed women should either focus on their work or behave with decorum, not chase after men indiscriminately.
After the confrontation, Ekansh had drowned his irritation in vodka, finishing an entire bottle before stumbling home and passing out in his bed.
Karan's parting words, however, lingered in his mind, even through the haze of alcohol.
"You can dismiss women all you want, Ekansh, but don't forget - everyone has a partner, a soulmate out there, waiting for their chance to meet. And mere bhai tere liye bhi bhawan ne koi na koi toh banai hogi(Bro, I sure god had made a girl for you too)".
Back in the present.
Ekansh scoffed at the thought, tightening his grip on the steering wheel.
The idea of a woman entering his life, only to disrupt it, was unacceptable.
He was convinced that no woman was meant for him, determined to keep his life and heart shielded from potential destruction.
Arriving at his office, a towering edifice of glass and steel, Ekansh parked and exited the car, his headache a dull reminder of his solitary resolve.
With a deep breath, he prepared to face the day, the success of SR Industries firmly in his sights.
- Writer
