Cool water trickled between my fingers as I swirled them in the flowing stream. The waterfall roared ahead, mist rising in the air, catching the sunlight in tiny, shimmering specks. I sat on a smooth rock, my feet dipped in the water, feeling the soft current against my skin. Everything was peaceful, effortless, like time had slowed. The mist rose around me, cool and refreshing, blurring the edges of reality.
Laughter echoed around me loud, carefree voices bouncing off the rocks. I turned to see my family scattered across the waterfall. My cousins waded through the water, splashing each other, their sneakers and sandals carelessly tossed onto nearby rocks.
My Attya's (Aunties/ father's sisters), all dressed casually in kurtas and jeans and t-shirts with leggings, stood chatting, some dipping their feet into the water, others leaning against the rocks. My uncles, dressed in shorts and polos, were further down, trying to find the perfect spot to stand without slipping.
It was one of those rare moments when everyone was together, no work calls, no schedules, no toxicity just the sound of rushing water and the easy chatter of family.
"Samiksha, come on! We're heading out," Pradnya Attya called over the noise, adjusting her watch as she spoke.
My clothes clung to my skin, drenched from the waterfall, but no one seemed to mind. There was no rush, yet there was movement like a gentle force pulling us forward.
I shook off the water from my hands and stood up, making my way toward the parked cars.
There were three of them, all big SUVs, their doors open as everyone started piling in. With so many of us, it was a scramble to get seats. I ended up in the back, squeezed into the dicky seat with one of my cousins, while a few others took up the middle row. My cousin who sat across from me, grinning as the car rumbled to life The engine rumbled to life, and we pulled onto the road.
At first, it was smooth wide, paved, familiar. But soon, the landscape changed. The trees grew denser, the air slightly cooler. The road beneath us became uneven, a kaccha stretch cutting through the hilly terrain. The conversation inside the car was easygoing, mixed with random jokes and updates on whose startup was failing and who had just returned from a Dubai trip.
The trees grew taller, their thick branches intertwining overhead, filtering the light into strange, shifting patterns. It wasn't quite a jungle, but the deeper we went, the wilder it felt.
Then we stopped.
As soon as I stepped out, I noticed the silence. The world outside the car felt different still, expectant. We had stopped near what looked like an old pathway, leading into a dense forest. But it wasn't the trees that caught my attention.
It was the bridge to my right. It was around seven or eight feet wide, stretching across a shallow, slow, moving stream. The structure wasn't a well built concrete bridge, but rather a sturdy kaccha one, the kind that seemed reliable enough but still felt oddly out of place in the middle of nowhere.
The river beneath wasn't exactly a river the water beneath it was... red.
Not blood red, but tinged like rust, like something had mixed with it over time. It was more of a shallow stream, with large, scattered rocks breaking through the surface. At most, it was ten or eleven feet deep, but with the water level so low, it seemed more like a forgotten path of nature than a living waterway.
Beyond the bridge, a narrow dirt pathway continued into the forest. It wasn't a dense jungle, but it wasn't exactly open land either. The trees stood close together, their thick trunks forming natural pillars, their branches intertwining overhead. It gave the feeling of being enclosed; like a quiet, untouched place where time had slowed. There weren't any visible houses or signs of human presence. It was the kind of place where animals could be lurking, unseen but aware.
The silence was unsettling. Not eerie, not threatening just... heavy. Like the world had held its breath.
My family, as usual, didn't seem to notice anything unusual. They moved around, stretching, adjusting their sunglasses, checking their phones. Someone made a joke, someone else laughed, and it felt like just another stop on the trip.
But I kept looking at the bridge.
The way it stood there, leading into something unknown. The way the water barely moved, the rocks looking more like stepping stones than part of a river.
And the way something about it felt... off. Not wrong. Just off.
Like a place I had been before but couldn't remember.... but I shaken it off my mind. Maybe I was just over thinking, being mentally dramatic.
"Samiksha, come on!"
Vinit Kaka's (uncle) voice pulled me out of my thoughts. I had been staring at the bridge for a while now, something about it making me pause. It wasn't particularly unusual; Still, there was something unsettling about it.
I shook off the thought and followed my family as they started moving ahead.
My cousins, five in total, were scattered between them, laughing and nudging each other as we crossed the bridge. They we're younger than me.
A gentle breeze carried the scent of damp earth, blending with the faint rust like smell of the water below. The bridge creaked softly under our weight, but it held firm.
Beyond the bridge, a narrow kaccha pathway stretched into the forest not too wild, but dense enough to block out any sign of a populated area. Tall trees loomed over us, their branches tangled overhead, allowing only patches of sunlight to filter through. The ground was uneven, scattered with dried leaves and roots protruding like twisted veins.
To my left, just beyond the river, lay a small clearing, a break in the dense foliage. The grass was sparse, the land uneven. The river continued beyond it, vanishing into the woods.
"Ajit Kaka," I asked, falling into step beside him, "where exactly are we going?"
"Just a bit ahead," he replied with an easy smile. "There's a temple."
A temple.
Something about the way he said it; so casual, so dismissive, made the unease in my chest tighten.
As we walked, I noticed the pathway wasn't just a straight trail. Every few meters, there were old, mud built steps worn, cracked, and uneven. Two or three at a time, then a flat stretch, then more steps. The incline was gradual, barely noticeable, yet I could feel it in my steps.
The silence around us grew thicker. But there was still the rustling of leaves, the occasional chirp of bird's.
"Why would anyone build a temple here?" I mumbled, more to myself than anyone else.
"Mandir's would probably be at such place," Ajit Kaka responded, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
I glanced at him. He wasn't looking at me. His gaze was fixed straight ahead, walking with the same ease as before. Like this was just another family trip.
There was no birdsong anymore. No distant rustling of animals in the underbrush. Just the wind, whistling softly through the trees.
I looked back at my family. My cousins were still chatting among themselves, my aunts and uncles moving at a leisurely pace, unfazed.
Only I seemed to feel it; The invisible weight pressing against my skin.
I turned my eyes forward again.
As we finally stepped past the last stretch of the ascending path, the temple revealed itself-small, unassuming, yet strangely powerful in its presence. It stood in a clearing, embraced by the thick embrace of towering trees, their branches forming a half-dome above, filtering the light into scattered golden patches on the ground. The air here was cooler, almost damp, carrying the scent of wet earth and aged stone.
Descending the five or six worn out steps, my eyes were drawn immediately to the pond at the center. It was large and square, its surface eerily still, reflecting the temple with unsettling clarity. But it wasn't the pond itself that unsettled me, it was the perfectly circular depression in the middle of it. A deeper pool within the pond, almost like a submerged well, at least 8-9 feet deep. The water here was darker, revealing nothing beneath.
Beyond the pond stood the temple itself. Two distinct sections were visible from the front. The left portion was the larger of the two, its sanctity evident even from here. Inside, I could see the idols; Lord Shiva's Shivlingam, Lord Ganesha's serene form, and Maa Parvati, standing in quiet divinity. Their presence gave the place a sense of peace, yet something still felt... off.
It was the right side of the temple that caught my attention next. Unlike the other side, this part wasn't adorned with deities or offerings. Instead, nestled within the massive rock formation behind the temple, a small cave mouth yawned open; dark, uninviting. Its entrance was uneven, naturally formed, as if the mountain itself had chosen to split apart just enough to allow passage.
I swallowed, my gaze lingering on the shadowy void within.
Standing before the temple pond, everyone instinctively joined their hands, heads bowing in silent reverence. The stillness of the place settled over us, the soft rustling of leaves and distant calls of unseen birds the only sounds breaking the quiet. The idols of Lord Shiva, Ganesha, and Maa Parvati stood solemnly inside the left portion of the shrine, their presence commanding devotion.
But then, as the prayers faded into a lingering hush, something shifted.
Aarnav, my cousin. Two years younger than me, began moving towards the cave on the right. He wasn't alone. Sheetal Attya, his mother, walked beside him, her steps steady and unhesitant. My brows furrowed as I watched them approach the shadowy opening.
"Where are you going?" I asked, my voice laced with confusion.
Before either of them could answer, Vinit Kaka spoke instead. "That's where the main temple is," he said simply. "Inside the cave."
I blinked, staring at the dark, gaping mouth of rock.
Inside?
I glanced at the temple again, then back at the cave. The idea of a sacred space hidden in such an ominous place made no sense. The entrance was narrow, barely large enough for one person to step through comfortably. Where did it even lead? How could something so unlit, so secluded, be the main shrine?
But no one questioned it. One by one, they began stepping inside. Sheetal Attya. Aarnav. Vinit Kaka. Then the others.
I hesitated only for a moment before following, Ajit Kaka right behind me.
The moment I stepped inside, the light behind us dimmed, swallowed by the cave's tight walls. The air grew heavier, tinged with the scent of damp stone and earth. I could hear faint echoes of footsteps ahead, the uneven crunch of shoes over loose pebbles. The passage wasn't much long just about 11 or 13 feet; but in that brief walk, it felt like the world outside had been completely left behind.
Then, suddenly, the darkness gave way to dimmer light.
Stepping out, I found myself in a more densely forested area. The trees here were taller, their branches entwined, casting deep shadows across the ground. It wasn't an open clearing like before; this place felt untouched, secretive, like it had existed for centuries without intrusion.
A narrow stone pathway stretched ahead of us, winding deeper into the forest. The stones were uneven, worn with age, and damp with moss. It looked old-too old. The kind of path that had been walked upon long before we ever came here.
The pathway stretched ahead, old and untamed.
It wound through the dense jungle, hidden beneath a canopy of towering trees, their branches tangled like skeletal fingers grasping at the sky. The scent of damp earth and moss lingered in the cool air, while the distant sound of rustling leaves and chirping birds was the only company to our footsteps. Each step I took on the uneven stone sent an echo through the stillness, as if the very mountain was listening.
Then, the silence broke.
A deep, resonating roar, not of an animal, but something far more powerful.
The sound wasn't just loud. It was alive.
As we moved further, the sound grew deafening, vibrating in my chest, consuming the very air around us. And then, emerging from the thick foliage, we saw it.
A colossal waterfall, cascading from the heavens themselves.
The water didn't just fall; It plummeted, crashing with an earth shaking force into a vast pool below. A mist of fine droplets rose from its impact, refracting the sunlight into shimmering rainbows that danced in the air. The source of the waterfall was completely obscured by the dense clouds above, as if the mountain extended beyond the sky itself.
I stood frozen for a moment, staring in disbelief.
How high was this mountain?
The sheer size of the waterfall made everything else seem insignificant. The pool below was dark and deep, rippling violently under the force of the endless downpour. The edges were lined with moss-covered rocks, smooth from centuries of being kissed by the mist.
But my awe quickly faded when I noticed something.
The path continued.
Not away from the waterfall, but beside it.
The trail snaked along the edge, clinging to the mountainside before curving sharply to the right, following the base of the waterfall's source. There were no stairs, just a narrow, well worn trail carved into the mountain's body, a ghat-like path, but not a grand one.
I blinked up at the towering mountain before us.
On one side, the violent rush of water crashed down just a few feet away. On the other, a sheer rock face loomed high, rugged and untouched. The path twisted and turned, disappearing behind the waterfall before sharply veering to the right; leading further into the unknown.
I glanced swallowing a bit. "We have to climb this?"
"Yes, the temple would be at the mountain top, I guess," Tushar Kaka replied as he was in middle of captured pictures with his camera.
A sudden gust of wind sent a spray of cold mist onto my face, grounding me back to reality. There was no turning back. We had to keep moving.
Step by step, we advanced along the perilous path, the sound of rushing water an ever present force beside us. The ground was uneven with slick stones threatening to shift underfoot. But I was unyielding, but curious with a hint of nervousness creeping under my skin.
And then, the path turned sharply.
We emerged onto a vast tabletop of grass, stretching across the mountain's crest. It felt surreal, like stepping into another world, untouched by time. Below, nothing could be seen, no trees, no valleys, only an endless ocean of white clouds. It was as if we had left the earth entirely, standing on a floating island suspended in the sky.
For a moment, I thought we had reached the end of our climb. But I was wrong.
Because the mountain continued....
Ahead of us stood a staircase. Not just any staircase; this one was carved directly into the mountain itself. Stone steps, ancient and narrow, rising impossibly high.
They weren't ordinary steps. They were small, only about 3-4 feet in width, with jagged edges that had eroded over centuries. Cracks ran along their surfaces, some steps slightly tilted, as if time itself had tried to reclaim them.
And they didn't stop. They rose higher. Higher than the clouds. Higher than my eyes could see.
The end of the staircase was completely hidden in mist. It was impossible to tell where it led, or if there even was an end.
I felt a shiver crawl up my spine.
Maybe, this wasn't a place meant to be found.
I turned to my family, my breath still unsteady as I was tired too. "This... is where the temple is?"
No one answered immediately. Then Anagha Attya said, "it'll be up there, on the top after we'll climb the steps."
Maybe she didn't know exactly either.
It was strange, this entire place felt like a forgotten sanctuary lost to time. It wasn't just a temple on a mountain. It was buried within the heavens themselves.
How many people had ever set foot here? Could anyone, even from ancient times, truly know what lay beyond those clouds? And more importantly...
Why had my family come here?
I exhaled, looking up at the endless stairway vanishing into the sky. There was only one way to find out.
The climb felt never-ending. Each step on the ancient stone staircase was a battle against gravity, exhaustion, and the sheer terror of knowing that one misstep meant plunging 17,000 feet into the abyss below. The narrow, damp steps had been carved directly into the mountain centuries ago, their edges worn smooth by time but still treacherous underfoot.
Ahead of me, Ajit Kaka and Tushar Kaka led the way, their footsteps steady. Vihaan and Arjun, my younger cousins, practically bounced up the steps, their excitement outweighing any sense of caution. Behind them, my two aunties climbed carefully, their sarees gathered to avoid tripping. I followed, my breath heavy, my heartbeat hammering against my ribs. Five more family members trailed behind me.
The air grew thinner. The world below disappeared beneath a dense blanket of swirling clouds. The higher we climbed, the more isolated this place felt, like we were ascending beyond the mortal world. And then...
We reached the door.
It was massive. A towering structure of stone, ornately carved, yet open. My uncles and cousins had already entered, disappearing inside. As I stepped onto the third step from the top, my breath hitched, caught in middle.
They were gone. I froze. Looking ahead into the doorway, I saw nothing, no movement, no figures, just the dimly lit entrance beyond.
I turned back instinctively, expecting to see my aunts and uncles just behind me. But they weren't there. The staircase was empty.
Only clouds remained, stretching endlessly in every direction. I was alone.
I swallowed hard, my fingers curling into fists. This wasn't possible. They had been right behind me. There was nowhere for them to go. Had they vanished? Had I?
A cold wind rushed through the entrance, pulling my attention forward.
The doorway stood open, silent, waiting. There was no turning back now. So, I stepped inside.
The air inside was thick with age, the scent of damp stone and something unnameable clinging to the walls.
A small courtyard stretched before me, enclosed by towering stone pillars that reached toward the darkened ceiling. The architecture was a fusion of Nagara and Hemadpantti styles, its carvings narrating forgotten myths. Gods, goddesses, celestial beings: Each frozen in stone, their expressions hauntingly lifelike.
Yet... there were no idols. Only silence.
At the far end of the courtyard, a second massive door loomed. I pushed against it.
The moment the doors creaked open, my breath caught. This was no ordinary temple.
Beyond the threshold lay an enormous courtyard, its size impossible to measure. The walls stretched far and high, enclosing a space so vast it felt like an entire kingdom had once existed here.
And in the center of it all stood the enormous, grand temple.
Temple towers dozens of them, pierced the sky, each adorned with carvings of divine tales. But it was the one at the back that held my gaze a monolithic tower, 40+ feet tall, its peak lost within the mist above.
It felt... untouched. Preserved by time itself.
I climbed another flight of stairs, each step pulling me closer to the temple's entrance. The carvings grew more intricate, more alive. Artifacts, old chests, and relics littered the passageways. Some chests remained shut, their locks rusted. Others lay open, revealing gold and gemstones glinting in the dim light.
But I didn't care about treasure. I cared about the mystery of this place. I moved deeper.
The temple's corridors twisted like a labyrinth, but I followed the main path, each step echoing against the stone. The silence was unnatural, heavy, as if the walls themselves were listening.
Finally, after what felt like hours, I reached the final door. This one was different.
Smaller than the others but big enough, yet its presence was overwhelming.
I pushed it open, revealing the last chamber.
The room was massive, though not endlessly so. It was an enclosed space, yet the carvings here were unlike anything in the temple before. They weren't just ancient. They were... perfect.
On every wall, depictions of gods and goddesses covered the stone, each with their hands raised in a gesture of blessing. Their expressions were ethereal so lifelike that for a second, I felt as if their eyes were watching me.
In the center of the chamber stood a stone Havan Kund; a fire pit, untouched by time. The air held an indescribable energy, as if the embers of a past ritual still lingered in the space.
But my gaze was drawn to the final door. It was not like the others. This one was not to big either in comparison, yet its presence was overpowering.
The doorway had an arch unlike anything else in the temple.
At the very top, flame like carvings wrapped around the curve of the arch, their patterns intertwining like tongues of fire. Along the sides, rows of small platforms were carved, holders for oil lamps/diyas, lined from top to bottom. Each holder bore a different flower design, unique in its detailing, as if each had been hand carved by a different artisan. My fingers hovered over the cold stone.
The moment my fingers curled around the cold, weathered stone handle, I knew something was different. Unlike the other doors I had pushed open, this one required a pull. A strange shift in the air made me pause, a silent warning from the temple itself.
With a steadying breath, I pulled the door open. A gust of freezing air rushed past me, sharp and biting against my skin. The world beyond the door was... empty.
For a terrifying moment, I thought I had opened a gateway to the sky itself. No ground. No walls. Just an endless expanse of swirling white clouds. Then, I saw it; A pathway.
Not a road, nor a proper bridge, but two long, narrow slabs of stone, extending forward into the mist. Each slab was barely a foot wide, smooth and perfectly cut, as if they had been placed there by some ancient force beyond comprehension. Seventeen thousand feet in the air.
There were no railings. No safety barriers. Nothing but open air surrounding them.
The two stone slabs were separated by a narrow gap just a few inches wide. Not large enough to step through, but just wide enough to see the abyss below. Even with the thick clouds swirling underneath, I knew, there was nothing beneath them. The land had simply... ended.
I turned my gaze back to where the slabs originated. They weren't connected to the temple itself. Instead, they seemed to be jutting out from beneath the structure, extending from the mountain's edge.
I squinted my eyes to see into the mist, following the slabs as far as I could. But there was no end in sight.
The path simply continued, disappearing into the white void. Where did it lead? Did it lead anywhere at all?
The air here was different, thinner, colder. My lungs struggled to draw in a deep breath, the oxygen at this altitude barely enough to sustain me.
Silence surrounded me, as if this place existed outside of time itself. No sound at all except for my own heartbeat, pounding in my ears. A single step onto that path could mean death.
I stood still at the threshold, my hands gripping the rough, weathered stone of the open doors.
I didn't step forward. And then; A whisper.
Low. Soft. Almost-loving.
"เคชเฅเคฐเคฟเคฏเคพ เคตเคฟเคเฅเคฐเคฎเฅเคถเฅเคตเคฐเฅ... เคตเฅ เคเคช เคนเคฎเคพเคฐเฅ เคธเคพเคฅ เคเคเคเฅ เคจเคพ? เคชเฅเคฐเคพเคฃเคตเคฟเคเฅเคฐเคพ , เคฎเฅเคฐเฅ เคธเคฎเคฟเคเฅเคทเคพ |"
("Beloved Vikrameshwari [Vikram's Queen/ Vikram's Goddess].... won't you come with me? Pranฤvikrฤ [Vikram's life], My Samiksha.")
The voice slid through the air, curling around my name with an unsettling familiarity. It was neither a demand nor a question. It simply... was.
My heart pounded. My breath caught.
Who was it?
I turned my head sharply to the right. No one.
Swallowing, I turned to the left; And there he stood.
A figure, towering at least a feet above me. Gazing at me with those unreadable-Amber eyes. Sharp brows and lashes, his lips.
I gasped.
โโโโโขโโง Dream Ended โงโโขโโโโ
My eyes fluttered open.
Sunlight. A golden beam cutting through my window, burning against my lashes.
I blinked rapidly, the remnants of the dream clinging to me like mist. My chest felt heavy, my limbs exhausted, like I had truly been there.
The dream *if it was a dream*clung to me, thick and heavy, like a second skin I couldn't shed. It was probably like some Oneiric Fatigue stuff.
I blinked rapidly, the sunlight cutting through my window, setting my room aglow in amber hues. The same color as-let it be...
I sat up, my head spinning as I checked the time. 11:00 AM.
"What the hell?!" muttered, rubbing my temples.
I slept at 9 PM last night. That meant I had been unconscious for fourteen hours. Yet, I felt like I had just run up a thousand-year-old mountain.
I exhaled sharply, pushing the thought away. It didn't matter. I had other things to deal with.
A knock on my door. I sighed. Right on time. Mammi was also out from the morning as she was gonna be, as she told me last night. And so I invited Arya over to discuss.
I opened the door, and Arya waltzed in like she owned the place.
Binder in one hand, a bag of snacks in the other.
She looked at me and smirked. "Good morning, Sleeping Beauty. Or should I say Sleeping Demon?"
I groaned. "Shut up."
Arya plopped onto my bed, tossing the thick file of rental listings onto my desk.
"My dad's friend hooked me up with a broker. I got all the best rental listings in Mumbai," she said, looking smug. "And guess what? I already found a few good ones."
I raised an eyebrow. "Damn, you work fast."
"Unlike someone who spent half the day in a coma," she teased.
I rolled my eyes but picked up the binder anyway. Flipping through the pages, I scanned the listings, flats across different areas, various price ranges.
I had done my own research last night. I wasn't about to throw money into something overpriced just because I could afford it.
And then; Both Arya and I stopped on the same page.
A listing. A flat. The same one. We looked at each other. "This one?" Arya asked. "This one," I confirmed. It was perfect.
After narrowing down our options, Arya and I focused on gathering comprehensive details about the 1 BHK studio apartment we were interested in. The property was listed with Vandevar Real Estate, a reputable and well-established agency in Mumbai known for its extensive portfolio and trustworthy dealings. This association provided us with a sense of security regarding the property's legitimacy.
I popped open my laptop and Arya on her phone, we went on the official Vandevar Real Estate website for details.
The apartment was listed at a monthly rent of โน57,000/-, Colaba, Bombay. Close enough to Arya's dance studio, and near places where I had already received high-paying job offers.
"That's the one," Arya said, tapping her nail against the page. "It's in a good area, near everything we need, and we can split the rent easily."
"Not that I'd have a problem paying the whole amount," I casual said incase if she had any issue.
She rolled her eyes. "I know, but let me do my part, yeah?"
Fair enough. I respected that. We weren't doing this out of necessity-we had money, connections, and careers lined up-but we were playing smart. Spending wisely, investing in the right places, and most importantly, keeping a low profile. This apartment wasn't about luxury. It was about strategy.
But apparently on the website there were no reviews. That was odd.
"Maybe it hasn't been rented out before?" I said, scrolling through the details.
"Maybe," Arya replied, looking at her phone. "Or maybe people just don't bother leaving reviews. Either way, we should check it out in person before deciding."
I nodded. "We'll set up an appointment with some broker of Vandevar Real Estate."
I leaned back, exhaling slowly. This was it. The first step. Getting the apartment, setting up a base, and then... everything else would fall into place.
For now, we were just two ambitious young women moving into a rented apartment in Mumbai. No one had to know what came next.
.
.
.
.
.
The cab ride through Mumbai's busy streets was nothing unusual, chaotic yet rhythmic, the kind of disorder that somehow always made sense. Arya sat beside me, scrolling through her phone, while I gazed out the window, watching the towering buildings shift into more compact, older structures as we neared Colaba.
As the cab pulled up near the building, we stepped out and took a good look at it.
The structure was modern yet modest, standing as tall as a four-story building but with only two actual levels. Each level had five studio apartments, each a duplex. That meant each unit had its own internal staircase, giving it a more independent feel compared to regular flats. It wasn't some towering skyscraper, but it wasn't a cramped chawl either. It was the perfect middle ground.
Arya glanced at me. "Looks nice."
I nodded. The beige and grey tones gave the building a neutral, welcoming look. Large glass windows reflected the afternoon light, and the overall structure looked well-maintained and spacious.
We didn't have to wait long before a voice called out from nearby.
"You must be Ms. Samiksha Sawant and Ms. Arya Shinde."
At 6'6 ft, he easily towered over both of us, including me at 5'11ft. His build was strong, dressed in a crisp button-up and dark trousers, formal enough to look professional but relaxed enough for a real estate showing.
His presence was collected, professional, but not forced. He carried himself with the ease of someone who knew exactly what he was doing.
His honey-brown eyes flickered between Arya and me before settling on me. Sharp, assessing, but not unfriendly. His features were well-defined-a strong jawline, neatly styled hair, and an expression that held just enough detachment to keep things strictly business.
"I'm Rahul," he introduced himself, extending a hand. "Vandevar Real Estate. I'll be showing you around today."
Arya shook his hand first, then I did. His grip was firm, professional, giving nothing away.
"Nice to meet you," Arya said. "We've seen the pictures, but we wanted to check the place in person before deciding."
"Of course," Rahul nodded. "The layout is exactly as described, but seeing it for yourself always makes a difference. Follow me."
As he turned, leading us toward the entrance, I exchanged a glance with Arya, not out of suspicion, just the usual silent conversation we had when checking out a place together.
So far, everything looked good.
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