"I accidentally walked inside. Holy shit. There he was, wet from his curly black hair to his masculine chest, and then his abs, and lastly, his shaft. I couldn't ignore how his eyes gave me a clue. I didn't know why I was feeling restless; goosebumps appeared on my arms. I wanted him so bad; honey of sensations was dripping from my rosebud. I wanted to feel the hardness of his body on my right soft corner, near my clitoris. There, the devil damned in lust, grabbing me by my waist, he pulled me towards him. His eyes were full of hunger; he grabbed my ass. Slowly, he started undressing me with his soft, cupid lips. The sensation was even hotter when my flesh was set free. He sucked and dug his teeth into me, and I moaned, "Aah, Mahiran, stop it. Mahiran putted a black gun inside my mouth, which stopped me from screaming." He murmered, "My sweet little angel, forgot your manner? Be a good girl.". I pushed Mahiran away. I was scared to witness this side of Mahiran. He replied, "I was just messing with you, Rory; you even know I need the gun for safety purposes."
******
I sat on the shore of majestic Magma Beach. The sea appeared darker and denser at night. I wondered if there was a world beyond luxurious apartments and dreams. My gaze fell upon the small buildings in the distance, about a kilometer from the beach. My cottage, Mehrotras, was among them. As Rory Mehrotra, a 20-year-old journalist and aspiring actor, I had lost hope. Rejections due to my red hair color had taken a toll. One last chance remained; I had to fight for my dreams. Like the relentless waves, I needed to shine upon the dense and dark sea.
The anxious night passed, and I drove my Swift to Magma Station for the audition. Submitting my side profiles, I stated: "Name: Rory Mehrotra, Age: 20, Height: 5'5"." I wasn't hopeful, having stayed awake late into the night. My face looked duller than usual. My thoughts were interrupted when I saw almost ten cars lined up in the parking lot; it was obvious a VIP had arrived. First, I saw suited bodyguards with guns, about five or six, and then my eyes landed on a man wearing black ravishing shoes, black formal pants, and a tucked-in grey shirt, accentuating his abs and inverted triangle silhouette.
His elongating torso, jawline, and seductive eyes captivated me. Small, long emerald eyes on a dusky skin canvas, plump lips, and messy black hair completed his look. Every model present stood up; I did too, in the hustle and bustle. I noticed he was around 6'2". Despite feeling barely visible, I knew my appearance would draw attention. My black mini skirt and crimson shirt were stunning. He introduced himself: "Mahiran Kashyap, executor of Miraba Textiles, the reason for today's audition." Three hours into the shoot, newcomers emerged, complaining about the experience.
As my turn arrived, I confidently walked onto the set, wearing a Miraba black dress and high heels, set against a vampire-themed backdrop. Mahiran's eyes locked onto mine. Flaunting my curves in the body-hugging dress, I knew I could grab attention as an hourglass. Mahiran approached me, guiding my poses. "Wear this lace top and shorts for the next Miraba shoot," he requested. Relieved to have passed the first trial, I noticed the Miraba team was absent. Only Mahiran remained, which felt alarming. "Ms. Rory Mehrotra, Miraba is interested in you," Mahiran said in his deep voice. "I'd like to do a shoot with you." "Thank you, Mr. Mahiran Kashyap," I replied, my voice shaking.
"May I know why you need to be in this shoot with me?" "It's getting late, Rory. Just a pairing test," Mahiran said, his hand on my bare waist. Mahiran stopped the shooting and asked me to accompany him to a meeting. I changed back into my black mini skirt, crimson shirt, and boots. Mahiran's bodyguards dropped us off at the "Ruffle Trouble" coffee shop, another Miraba-sponsored venue. As we entered, everyone smiled at Mahiran, and he waved back. His warm demeanor surprised me, given his rudeness towards the modeling team. Mahiran secured a cozy corner seat, surrounded by lilies and lilacs, amidst modern gray architecture with a hint of darkness. As I accidentally dropped the menu, Mahiran picked it up and ordered two lattes.
"So, Ms. Rory, tell me about yourself. How did you start modeling?" he asked. "I was sixteen when I did my first ramp walk for Cilory, a local brand. Since then, I knew what I wanted," I replied. Mahiran's neutral tone cut me off. "That's enough, Ms. Rory." Under the table, his leg brushed against mine, sending shivers down my spine. As a clumsy person, I felt embarrassed, hoping Mahiran saw it as an accident. But his focused expression suggested otherwise. He presented me with a one-year contract for Miraba. I hesitated, wanting to keep my options open for other brands. However, when Mahiran offered to cover my living expenses and provide a luxury flat for a year, I couldn't resist. "Alright, that's it. I'm in," I agreed. As Mahiran handed me the contract, his eyes locked onto mine, and I sensed a hidden agenda.
Was this a genuine opportunity or a clever trap? . Mahiran went by to attend a call. Author's pov Mahiran seemed intrusted and seamlessly happy when Roy accepted his proposal. Mahiran went away from Roy to attend a call, Ethan. "Did you find a catch?" Mahiran smiled at Roy and replied back. "Yes, II will see you soon.". Soon the order bell rang for the number 21, which was of mahiran.
He went to take the order. Mahiran added his own special secret to the coffee, whispering to the female worker. As soon as Roxy sipped coffee, an electrifying shock was felt in her tongue. Rory exclaimed, "Isn't the taste strange, mahiran "? .
Mahiran replied, "No, sweety, that's what we call strong. He said cheers. After sipping the coffee, Mahiran fixed a date for the legal framework and documentation of the contract. Roy had only one day to break this news to her parents, meeting her ex-lover Julian. Whom she parted ways on a mutual consent. Mahiran walked, and his footsteps gave a kind of echo to Rory's ear. Finally, Rory got her very first project. She decided to break the news to her parents. She called Mrs. Rama Mehrotra, Rory's loving mother, who was a housewife by profession. Rory exclaimed with excitement, "Mom! Guess what?" Mrs. Rama replied, "Yes, yes, Rory, what's up, honey? I'm a little busy."
Rory exclaimed, "I got my first project, Ma! I'm moving to the Miraba apartments." Mrs. Rama congratulated Rory, and the phone disconnected. Rory's father was the last person on earth she wanted to call, as he was a proud businessman who never had time for Rory and her mother. He lived in Goa and came to Mumbai only during festivals. Rory's childhood felt incomplete due to her father's absence. She believed in fluidity and freedom in relationships, having seen her dad's pictures with other women and the constant stream of men visiting her mother, Rama. This deeply wounded her, making her hesitant to fall in love again. Rory met Julian in her teenage years, and their pure friendship eventually turned into romance. Julian started liking Rory, and she agreed to his proposal to avoid breaking his heart.
However, their long-distance relationship ended after two years. Julian came to Mumbai for his holidays, and luckily, he was in the city. As Rory entered Mahiran's world, it seemed vibrant from afar. His dad, Raghav Kashyap, was an influential politician who ran Miraba with an iron fist, boasting millions in net worth in Mumbai. Mahiran's mother, Mrs. Tara Kashyap, was the original face of Miraba, renowned for her stunning features and silhouette. When Mahiran stepped into the Miraba garage, the 12-kilometer-long entrance seemed imposing. The black building with 158 rooms and 10 floors exuded luxury, with "Miraba" written in white paint over a black background—classic, simple, and eye-catching.
Without a word to the staff, Mahiran entered the garage, which was the last floor. The corridor had dull yellow lights and was silent. As Mahiran walked on the wooden floor, his footsteps echoed: thud, thud, thud! The dorm corridor soon bustled with activity, shrill voices of sewing, and cries of agony. Two women whispered, "I think the master has arrived; we'll mourn a death even on Diwali." The second woman replied, "Hush, that's Mahiran." Marrie and Maria, twin sisters and former Miraba models, tried to break their contract but resented paying taxes to the "master."
theywere forced to work without pay, and their disappearance went unreported by the media. They ran towards Mahiran, asking, "Did my leave letter get signed? Will I get a holiday?" Mahiran put his hand on Maria's shoulder and said, "There are no holidays in Miraba." The desperate voices crying "Save me, ahh!" caught Mahiran's attention. Marrie stopped him from entering the punishment room. The corridors smelled like new leather, and there in a room far away, the last room of the corridor, Mahiran entered. "Yes, master," " mahiran exclaimed. Ethan, a man with small cuts on his cheeks, blue eyes, and a heavy beard, walked in, standing tall in front of Mahiran.
He asked to show the pictures of his new model, which he had been waiting to see. Mahiran agreed to do so if he exchanged the legal documents of Miraba, which stated that the company has legalized imports, which was false. Ethan patted on Mahiran's face.
Mahiran shoved Ethan's mouth, and the force gathered, then Ethan stopped his army. He promised to hand over those papers when Rory Mehrotra would complete her first 3 screenings of Miraba. Mahiran recorded it secretly. Mahiran before walking away patted ethan's croch before going. Before going, Mahiran picked a pink packet that had Miraba written over it. Mahiran made a call to Rory to let her visit Miraba homes and to complete the documentation. Rory was sitting next to her mother, Rama Mehrotra. Mrs. Rama said, "So, finally, my baby doll has grown up." Rory smiled and replied back, "Grow up to find a job and an apartment too." "What, seriously,rory are you serious?". Of course you are capable, but a property this soon.. Rory replied, "Mom, it's Miraba.". Mrs. Mehrotra wished Roy all the best, and she asked to thank Julian for suggesting that photoshoot for Miraba. Julian knocked at the door and entered inside, giving a warm hug to Roy. Mrs. Rama left and gave them some privacy.
Rory's pov:
I was feeling a strange giggle in my stomach. I hope it was just a friendly hug by Julian. We haven't gotten along in a while. Anyway, I had to pack and pack for moving to Miraba. I have never been this happy, which also raises a concern in my heart. I was missing my dad so much; something distressing was turning this moment of happiness to be unbelievable. I wasn't able to sense this feeling.
Anyhow, I picked Mahiran's call, "Hey, Roy. What's up"? . I replied, "All good, mahiran, mahiran." I just need a little bit of time before I sign your contract.
" Mahiran teased, "So you want to keep your dish waiting?". Rory says, "Excuse me, please." Mahiran asks Roy to show her the flat; she could sign the contract days later.
I get ready in a vow of excitement. I wear a casual chic crop top with blue jeans and heels. Mahiran picks me up at the same coffee shop we met earlier. Against the hot waves of Mumbai, we leave behind streets, housing boards, and then we see a board hanging up there, Miraba, housing 1 km away. My heart beats louder. Mahiran offers me a bottle of water. I sip a few drops and accompany him. The watchman acknowledges Mahiran, and a female checks me. Then we enter inside; there were lined up Mercedes, Porsches and Bentleys among Mahiran's Bentley.