The hallway of Rathore & Groups felt like the aftermath of a natural disaster. Employees stood frozen like statues in their doorways, their whispers dying in their throats as they witnessed the fall of the empire's golden grace.
Abhimanyu didn’t meet anyone’s eyes. He couldn’t. The stinging heat on his jaw and the metallic taste of blood in his mouth were nothing compared to the sudden, agonizing realization of the words he had just unleashed. He didn’t look at Kabir, whose chest was still heaving with a righteous, protective rage. Most of all, he refused to look at Akshita, who stood like a broken ghost against the marble.
My goal is to continue creating longer, high-quality stories with consistent updates while investing in the tools and time needed to improve my writing. Beyond that, I also hope to use a portion of the support to contribute to charity and help those in need whenever I can. Every contribution, no matter how small, helps me grow as a writer while giving me the opportunity to spread kindness beyond these stories. Thank you for being a part of this journey. 💗
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