✨⭐Khushi ✨⭐
740 Words
Far from the chaos of power struggles and crime, somewhere in a world of glamour and spotlight...
A thunderous cheer echoed through the massive auditorium. The lights flickered like stars, illuminating the queen of the stage—Khushi, the goddess of music.
Her voice flowed like a soft breeze, carrying the crowd into a world of dreams:
“Where you are, I’ll always be,
In whispers of love, you’ll find me.”
Every word was poetry; every note was magic. The crowd swayed as if spellbound, their hearts beating in rhythm with hers. Her voice wasn’t just heard; it was felt.
And when the final note rang through the air, an eruption of applause shook the room.
“Khushi! Khushi! Khushi!”
The chant reverberated, unstoppable, filling every corner of the hall. She smiled faintly, her eyes scanning the sea of adoring fans before she raised her hand, blowing them a flying kiss.
She walked offstage gracefully, the queen stepping back into her world. But the moment she crossed the velvet curtain, her demeanor shifted. Gone was the radiant star; in her place stood a woman sharp and unrelenting.
Backstage, her team stood waiting. Bodyguards, assistants, and her manager, Vani, flanked her. Vani stepped forward cautiously, clutching her phone nervously.
“Ma’am, Mr. Singhania called. He urgently wants to speak with you,” she said softly, as though treading on thin ice.
Khushi barely glanced at her. “Why?” she asked, her tone as cold as the frost of a winter morning.
Vani hesitated, glancing at the others for support before handing her the phone. “I… I don’t know, but he said it was important.”
Khushi didn’t respond. Instead, she dialed the number with a calm that was almost terrifying. The phone barely rang twice before the call was picked up.
“What is it, Mr. Singhania?” Her voice was sharp, void of emotion.
On the other end, the man bristled. His voice was heavy with anger. “Watch your tone, Khushi. I’m your father.”
Her lips curled into a mocking smile. “Then act like one. Otherwise, let’s not waste time pretending. What do you want?”
His silence stretched for a moment, broken only by the faint sound of his teeth grinding in frustration. “Why haven’t you come home? It’s been weeks.”
Khushi’s gaze hardened. Her voice dropped an octave, colder and sharper. “Let’s not play games, Mr. Singhania. We both know you don’t care about me. If I were to vanish tomorrow, it wouldn’t bother you in the slightest. So drop the façade and get to the point. Why did you call?”
Her words hit like daggers, and for a moment, he was silent again, his anger barely contained. Finally, he spoke, his voice tight. “It’s about the company. Oberoi has been interfering with our deals, creating problems in our operations.”
Khushi let out a soft, humorless laugh. “Ah, so the great Mr. Singhania finally admits he only calls when he needs me. Tell me, what happened to your useless, good-for-nothing son? Can’t he fix your problems?”
“Shut up, Khushi!” he barked, his anger boiling over. “I didn’t adopt you so you could disrespect me like this!”
At that, Khushi’s eyes flashed with fury. She stepped forward, her presence commanding even through the phone. Her voice rose, cutting through his anger like steel.
“And I tolerate you because of that very word—adopted. If it weren’t for that, I’d have walked away from this pathetic charade long ago. Now, lower your voice when you speak to me, or I’ll show you what shouting really sounds like!”
She paused, her breath steadying. Then, with a deliberate calmness, she added, “As for Oberoi, I’ll deal with him myself tomorrow. Don’t call me again unless it’s something that actually matters.”
And with that, she ended the call, not waiting for his response.
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Khushi stood there for a moment, the phone still in her hand. Her chest rose and fell steadily, her expression unreadable.
But beneath her cold exterior was a storm—a storm of anger, pain, and an unspoken truth that gnawed at her. Why did she hate the man who claimed to be her father? And was it true that she was adopted?
Who was Khushi, really?
To unravel the mystery, keep reading ....
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- Writer
