Reyansh’s POV
“I am not the murderer of your sister, Mr. Rout, I was the victim who was framed for the murder of your sister,” Aanya explained calmly, her voice carrying a mix of sadness and determination. With an air of composure, she reached for her handbag and deftly extracted a document from it.
“These are the property papers of the orphanage land. You can review them, and if they meet your requirements, I will obtain the owner’s signature by the end of the week to transfer the land under your name,” she said, her unwavering gaze fixed upon me. The emotions I had earlier glimpsed had now given way to a poised and professional demeanor.
She slid the document across the table with an air of confidence, every movement deliberate. My eyes scanned the papers meticulously, searching for any discrepancies or loopholes that might hint at foul play. The authenticity of the transfer was of the utmost importance, and I was determined to leave no stone unturned.
As I glanced up from the documents, my attention was caught by the business card that she had casually placed alongside the papers. It read “Aanya Miller, Attorney-at-Law,” offering her contact information, including her phone number and email address.
Intrigued, I raised an eyebrow in question, and she explained with a hint of a smirk, “This is my contact information, in case you have any questions or need clarification. I’m more than happy to provide any assistance you may require. But remember, the nature of humankind is rooted in the principle of give and take. We each have our own roles to play in society.”
Her words lingered, leaving me with a sense of unease. Aanya was undoubtedly a person of substance, but she also seemed to hold cards close to her chest, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to her than met the eye.
Seizing the opportunity, she extended her hand for a shake, and after a momentary pause, I reciprocated. “Here’s to a productive and mutually beneficial partnership,” she replied in her professional tone, as if sealing an unspoken agreement.
Just as she turned to leave the room, she halted abruptly, turning back to face me. There was an air of wisdom in her words as she imparted some advice, “I don’t interfere in anyone’s life or decisions, but let me offer you some guidance. Choose your alliances wisely and consider the consequences of your actions. The tale of Karan in the Mahabharata holds a valuable lesson. It underscores the importance of making ethical choices that align with your values, as those choices can shape your destiny. Karan, though more powerful than Arjun, chose to stand on the wrong side and met a tragic fate. Remember the importance of righteousness in your decisions,” she explained, drawing a parallel to the ancient Indian epic Mahabharata.
Aanya’s wisdom was captivating, and the lesson she shared from the Mahabharata resonated deeply. As she departed the room, I found myself pondering the weight of her words and the insight she had offered. Though I couldn’t yet fathom her true motives, one thing was clear – Aanya possessed a maturity far beyond her years.
Each person is born innocent and pure, shaped by the experiences and choices life presents. Destiny and circumstances play pivotal roles in defining who we become. As I looked towards the door, I couldn’t help but wonder about the enigmatic layers that comprised Aanya. To form conclusions about her story based solely on her words and actions would be premature. My curiosity was piqued, and I resolved to understand her journey and the factors that had contributed to her wisdom and maturity.
Aanya presented an intriguing challenge, a puzzle waiting to be unraveled. With every interaction, I found myself growing increasingly admiring, curious, and yes, perhaps even a little obsessed with this captivating enigma.
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The sun dipped below the horizon, casting an ethereal glow over the landscape. The sky painted in vibrant hues of orange, pink, and purple served as a stunning reminder of the beauty and complexity of the world. It was as if nature itself mirrored the enigmatic layers of Aanya – a woman whose depths were yet to be fully explored. The very atmosphere seemed conducive to introspection and contemplation, as if urging one to dive deeper into the mysteries of life.
Aanya had unknowingly set in motion a whirlwind of emotions within me. I found myself consumed by the desire to unravel her secrets, to discover what made her the intriguing person she was.
Letting out an exasperated groan, I increased the speed of his car, attempting to divert my thoughts from the alluring enigma that was Aanya. However, by the time I reached my destination, my energy and mental faculties were drained. The events and encounters of the day had left me feeling exhausted and bewildered.
Entering Rout mansion, I was met with an unusual sound that disrupted the usually silent walls. The halls echoed with the voices of a news channel, broadcasting the latest updates and current affairs. The noise drew me towards the living room, where I was surprised to find Hridhan sitting on the couch, completely engrossed in the news.
Next to him, my dear Retriever pet dog, seemingly content, rested his head on Hridhan’s lap, both thoroughly absorbed in the latest news stories. A playful comment escaped my lips, “Looks like you’ve found yourself a new companion, Retriever. Forgotten your owner already?” I raised an eyebrow, grinning mischievously.
At the sound of my voice, both Hridhan and the dog turned their gaze towards me. However, instead of a lighthearted response, I was met with an unexpected flash of anger in Hridhan’s eyes.
“Who the hell claims to be the owner of a living being? Just because we provide for animals doesn’t give us the right to treat them as possessions,” Hridhan retorted, his voice charged with passion. My playful comment had unwittingly struck a nerve.
Hridhan’s frustration continued, “And what’s with naming him ‘Retriever’? It’s reducing his identity to a mere label, as if his species defines him. How would you feel if I called you a ‘human being’ or ‘Homo sapiens,’ overlooking your unique individuality and worth as a living being?” His tone was firm, refusing to back down.
“Umm… sorry for my insensitive comment earlier. But I was just joking and as for his name, I just got him from the shelter day before yesterday and haven’t had the time to give him a proper name yet,” I explained apologetically.
He switched off the TV and turned to move away from me without saying another word.
Determined to understand what had caused Hridhan’s emotional outburst, I followed him, seeking to mend any hurt feelings. Breaking the silence, he probed gently, “There must be something more to this that got you so worked up.”
Hridhan sighed, visibly deflating. “Sorry… I didn’t mean to come off so strong,” he sighed, his anger visibly deflating, “It’s just that it reminded me of her. She was so passionate and loved the animals so much,” a smile appeared on his face, tinged with sadness, “She always advocated for their rights and believed that they shouldn’t be treated as property. I couldn’t control my emotions as it reminded me of her and her love and compassion for them. The topic struck a chord and stirred up emotions tied to her love and compassion for animals,” he explained, a bittersweet smile playing on his lips.
The pieces of Hridhan’s past began to fall into place, and my heart softened. The loss had shaped us both, leaving indelible imprints on our souls.