The Mahindra Thar rolled to a gentle stop outside the newly furnished Andheri Phase II apartment, its sleek frame catching the soft glow of Mumbai's evening lights. Shalini Patel shifted in the passenger seat, her sprained ankle still tender, the faint scent of antiseptic lingering from the day's earlier events. Arjun Sharma turned off the engine, the city's distant hum of rickshaw horns and street vendors fading into a quiet murmur. The emotional weight of Smita Nair's outburst at the hospital still hung in the air, but the system's recent favorability boost and apartment reward had steadied his resolve. As they stepped out, Shalini's phone buzzed with a message from Smita.
Smita's text read: "Shalini, I'm sorry for the outburst at the hospital. I was emotionally unstable—please ask Arjun Sir to forgive me." Shalini's lips tightened, disgust flickering across her face. The sudden shift from insults to groveling, spurred by the sight of Arjun's Thar, felt hypocritical. "She's only sorry because of his car," Shalini muttered, then lied, "He left already—to avoid more trouble." Her priority was protecting Arjun's peace, her loyalty to him deepening.
Arjun, overhearing, waved a hand dismissively. "No need to bother with her apology. I remember her from a few months back, obsessed with marrying rich." His tone was calm, his maturity unshaken by Smita's antics. Shalini's admiration grew, and his youthful vigor—despite a slight balding patch—made him an ideal partner in her eyes.
Feeling guilty about Smita's behavior, Shalini hesitated, then asked softly, "Arjun Sir, could you massage my leg? It's still sore." Arjun nodded, guiding her to the sofa in the apartment. For half an hour, his gentle hands worked on her injured calf, the intimate silence broken only by their quiet breaths. The closeness deepened their connection, though the system noted no favorability change, the moment a tender pause in their journey.
Returning to his Andheri home later, Arjun noticed unfamiliar tire tracks in his parking space, suggesting an intrusive BMW X5. Frowning, he posted in the community group: "Anyone know about a BMW X5 in my spot?" Responses trickled in, hinting it might be an outsider's vehicle. As he mulled this over, Mr. Daksh approached, envy in his eyes. "Arjun bhai, that gym life—Fitzon, right? I'm thinking of joining for health, maybe to catch someone like Shalini's attention," he said, grinning. Arjun chuckled, "It's worth a shot, Daksh bhai."
Inside, Ananya, greeted him with a cup of mountain tea, its earthy scent a nostalgic comfort. His daughter, Priya , hunched over an Xbox, ignored him, lost in a game. Arjun joined Ananya, instead, suggesting they Play together, then switched to a cooperative Xbox game, "It Takes Two." The game required teamwork, their chemistry improving in the second round as they laughed over missed moves, symbolizing a growing bond.
Meanwhile, Rohan Malhotra, who'd parked his BMW X5 in Arjun's space, texted Priya: "Did your dad notice my car?" Guilt laced his words. Priya, oblivious, replied, "Nope, come play 'It Takes Two.' with us!" The invitation hung in the air, unaware of the brewing parking dispute.
From: Aurthor Nikhil T.
Subject: Please check out my new novel, Asura: The Hunter
Hello,
I've recently published my new novel, titled Asura: The Hunter.
I would appreciate it if you could give it a read.
Thank you very much for your time and consideration.
Best regards,
Nikhil T. (Author)