1. Ugh. Monday. Again.

Okay! First things first - where are you right now!?

Welcome to my new book, Bulletproof my heart - A Bodyguard Romance!

Who's ready to smile, laugh, cry and fall in love with fictional characters that will scar you for any future real relationships? Me!!

You can stalk me on Instagram - @womanonrampage and @poojaamritkar . Drop a message or a comment #WattpadFam so I know it's you! Would love to connect with my gorgeous readers over social media too!

©฿©

The following story is due to my imaginative mind. Any reference to anything hurtful is a pure coincidence and certainly not intended. Every word hereafter is under the protection of every continent, country, state, city's copyright laws. I take lots of efforts in thinking, editing and actually typing down my thoughts until my fingers hurt, so please don't copy anything. If you do, well, I can be a very very mean woman - you have been warned!

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. COPYRIGHT 2023 BY ME. ©

There will be a few mistakes, you are warned. So correcting them is fine but flat out insulting isn't. This is a community of readers, please be respectful to each other.

A few kisses and cuss words here and there and everywhere. You are warned. Proceed accordingly.

I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I loved writing it. 

I would love to know what you think of the story and these characters, so please vote and comment? Pretty please? I am always grateful for your sincere thoughts. They make me feel amazing and it boosts my confidence. So thank you!

*Drum roll please*

~~~

Chapter 1: Ugh. Monday. Again.

There are some stories that are best kept unwritten. There are some secrets best kept hidden.

This is neither of them.

There it is, the deafening sound of gunshots echoing through the once peaceful living room. The smell of gunpowder hangs heavy in the air, mingling with my fear. I am terrified and I am not ashamed to say that I am very close to just peeing in my pants! My heart is pounding against my chest like a caged bird, desperate to escape this horrifying situation.

The living room is completely transformed into a battleground, with overturned furniture and shattered glass scattered across the marble floor. Dim light filters through the bullet-riddled curtains and the more I look at it, the more I want close my eyes and hope that this is all a dream.

I am crouched low behind an expensive couch, the cushions barely a managing to act like a shield for the chaos happening around me. I put my trembling hands to my mouth, attempting to stifle my ragged breaths and unsteady gasps. I peek cautiously over the backrest, gasping when a bullet whizzes past me, splintering the wooden frame of the door behind me.

"Get the fuck down!"

I quickly duck down, my dark black hair cascading around my face like an armour. My pulse is racing a million times faster than normal, pounding in my ears like a war drum. How did my life take such a terrorizing turn? One minute I am sipping wine with my crush and the next I am behind a couch, praying that I get to see another day.

One week before...

I stretch my hands above my head, blinking several times to adjust my eyes to the light sunlight seeping through the open window. My feet twist under the blanket and I heave out a breath of frustration. "Ugh. Monday. Again."

I grab my phone and turn it to check the time – 6.28 AM – two minutes before the alarm goes off. My body has been so accustomed to the routine by now that it wakes up before the alarm. I let my eyes flutter close for 2 minutes, granting myself a few more minutes of blissful rest before having to face the dreadful day.

Within seconds, the alarm goes off – shrill, loud, blaring, annoying. With a huff, I turn it off and force myself to wake up, not at all looking ahead to the busy schedule of college classes and assignments. Who likes studying and actually going to college? No one. But apparently you need to have a decent degree...otherwise, what will people think and say about you? It's like we are living for the opinions of strangers and not for our own happiness.

It's a different thing that I don't really hate studying. I am actually pretty good at it. And it keeps my mind sharp, else I'd bored and annoyed all the time.

I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and straighten my back, stretching my arms above my head in an attempt to shake off the last traces of drowsiness and dreamless slumber.

I lower my hands and rub my neck, the red tank top that had ridden up during sleep, showing off my rose tattoo on the left hip, falls back into place and I thread my fingers through my open black hair, weaving out any knots. It's easy considering how silky my hair is – styling it is a headache – nothing ever stays put – one headshake and it comes spiralling down till my waist. I am every hairdresser's nightmare.

There's a light knock at the door and my eyes sweep towards the shut door, I already know who it is but that still doesn't make my heart beat any slower – it races in my chest, pounding frantically with anticipation, and I swallow hard, adjusting my SpongeBob shorts. I lick my dry lips and slap my cheeks to add some colour to them. A lame attempt to look minutely attractive. I quickly sneak a glance into the tall mirror to the side of the room and once satisfied that I don't like a lost mermaid thrown on the dry sand for the first time, I clear my throat and cross my ankles. "Come in." My voice comes out all squeaky instead of the expected sexy tone.

The door opens and my breath gets caught in my throat – like every single morning. I still can't believe that he is a bodyguard – Nimit Verma - a combination of power, grace, arrogance and confidence. He could have been a male model, or an actor, or just stand on the roadside and people would still pay to stop and stare at him. But here he is, guarding me, tolerating me, protecting me. Lucky me!

His features are a captivating blend of strength and softness. A chiselled jawline and a hint of stubble giving him an air of rugged charm. Usually, he is clean shaven but these days he keeps a light beard and I don't complain about it. It makes him look more... mysterious and magnetic.

I vividly remember the first time I saw his piercing hazel eyes, 6 months back – I almost tumbled down the stairs in a trance. My first thought was - Is he real? Or did my imagination create a sexy Prince Charming who will save me and take me away from this sheltered castle?

Of course, the reality is nowhere that inciting.

Right now, his neatly combed dark hair fall gracefully over his forehead, adding to his irresistible allure. He is dressed in his usual black tailored suit. In fact, I don't think I have ever seen him in anything other than a suit. And it fits his muscular athletic build perfectly. When does he wake up to be this skilfully dressed by 6.30 AM? Does he ever sleep?

A surge of warmth spreads through my body as my eyes trace the curves of his face. The perfect nose and his tempting lips, straight, stiff, unsmiling – like always. Unwillingly, my mind begins to wander, imagining what it would be like to be the one to make him smile. Would his laugh be as infectious as I imagine it to be? Would his touch send shivers down my spine? Would his lips be as soft as his gaze?

"Good morning." His voice is effortless, like honey dripping from a golden spoon. Deep and resonating, commanding attention but not demanding it. His expression impassive and formal yet polite.

I smile at him, hoping to get a smile back in return but nothing – expressionless. I mentally sigh and wish him back. "Good morning."

"Ready for Monday?"

"Never."

His eyes quickly scan the room – as if a burglar would be hidden somewhere – it makes me chuckle. He passes me a look of amusement but doesn't step inside the room. "You'll need 30 minutes to get ready?"

"Like always."

This is the routine now; my bodyguard knocks on the door to make sure I am awake – scans the room once – and then waits outside until I am dressed and ready to leave for college. And then he follows me around the campus and everywhere I go, until I am back safely inside the bedroom – alone and miserable. And not once has he attempted to cross the professional boundary. Always maintaining distance, always nodding politely, always keeping a neutral face.

It's not like I made an attempt to hit on him either but still, he's a guy – isn't he affected by my womanly charms?

Or am I just not pretty enough for him? The thought makes me scowl and glare at Nimit.

"Is everything okay?"

"Just peachy." I mutter, looking away from his insanely attractive self. How is a woman supposed to have self-control around him? "I'll be right out."

"Okay." He bows respectfully and shuts the door back.

I look at the empty space previously occupied by him and let out a heavy sigh. "Only if he wasn't my bodyguard and I wasn't the daughter of an infamous politician. Maybe then we could have a chance. Maybe we could be something more than... whatever this is now."

I move towards the washroom, thinking about how different and crazy my life is from normal people. My father is a renowned politician – Shaan Mehta – you'll find his posters all over the city, even the country. He is on his way to becoming the Prime Mister – at least that is his end goal. He is on the news at least once a week and usually involved in every high-profile issues. Of course, with this fame comes constant media scrutiny – every word, action, and statement are closely examined and subjected to criticism or praise. And then there are threats, many of them, constantly. It's scary.

My mother – Kiana Mehta – died in an accident when I was only 6 years old. My father believes that it wasn't an accident, he claims that it was a premeditated murder but there has been no proof to support his theory to this day. And even though he hasn't given up looking for clues – the police have closed the case.

And I am Aisha Mehta, their one and only daughter who has lived under sharp scrutiny and powerful security for the past 22 years. Since my father faces various threats frequently, my life has been a mix of being followed around by bodyguards, abiding to hundreds of security protocols, facing restricted access to certain areas and barely being able to live my life on my own terms. Honestly, I'd give anything to have a normal life – just go to a coffee shop without having someone follow me, place my own order and sit by the window instead of the seat closest to the exit. I'd love to go to a club and get drunk without fearing the consequences. I'd love to have a relationship without it being covered in the news as 'Find out who Shaan Mehta's daughter is currently dating'.

Don't get me wrong, I have spent all of my teenage years hating my father, trying to escape through the windows, throwing pool parties and getting caught, sneaking out in the middle of the night to meet a boy and even threatening to leave home and never come back. And as you can probably guess – it's been highly unsuccessful. My father is patient, stern and always manages to foul my plans.

So, once I turned 17, I pretty much gave up on it and decided to accept this as my life. It's not been fun but at least my father is more accommodating, now that he knows he can trust me to not run away every chance I get.

That is until half a year back. Before, I only needed a bodyguard when I left the house, to an event or to a campaign. But since the past 6 months, since Nimit has come into the picture, the security has increased tenfold. I have constantly been under protection and I can't go anywhere without having my dear bodyguard follow me like a lost puppy. Something has changed, maybe there's a dangerous threat, or just plain insanity – it is probably because of the upcoming elections. Why else would I need a bodyguard in my own house?

There is obviously no threat to me. I, as an individual, am a nobody.

I quickly brush my teeth and take a quick shower and change into comfortable light blue denim jeans and a red t-shirt. I had to take a makeup course when I was only 13 so I am pretty good at it but I don't do it often. Who's going to see me anyway? The guy I want to get noticed by doesn't even spare me a glance. I apply light lipstick, some mascara and brush my hair into a ponytail.

I grab my bag pack, make sure the laptop and assignment papers are in there and then put on my white sneakers. I still remember the first time I had met Nimit Verma – it's one of my favourite memories. He was waiting outside my father's office and I stood frozen at the top of the stairs – just staring at him, unable to look away. He looked so commanding in the navy-blue suit, handsome enough to take anyone's breath away. My heart pounded, wondering who he was and why he was here. And when our eyes met, I could swear there was a sizzling spark in the air. His hazel eyes pierced right through my soul, rendering me speechless. We couldn't look away and for the first time ever, I felt alive... I felt desired... I felt seen. I had never wanted a man so intensely before. And I knew I had to get his number... at the very least.

Until he entered my father's office and came out 15 minutes later as my bodyguard. Forbidden and totally off the market.

I could hardly believe my tragic fate – it sends me one sexy guy, only for him to be close but not intimate. What a tease!

I pause at the door, Nimit's muffled voice coming in through it. I frown and lean a little closer, pressing my ear against the door, eager to hear what he is talking...and to whom. Maybe a girlfriend? I hope not!

"Has there been any new information?... Nothing? Even now?" His sounds a little frustrated. "Yeah... just work on it...we should have something, anything... I know. I am handling it. She doesn't know."

My frown only deepens at hearing his one-sided conversation. None of it makes any sense and I know that it's not a personal call, it's a professional one. And thus, of zero use to me.

He does his job and I don't care about it.

I open the door and Nimit straightens, his eyes widening a little and he cuts the call without even saying goodbye, stuffing the phone into his pocket. His arms come to his side and his shoulders stiffen. "Ready?" I wonder if he ever just relaxes on the couch, in his shorts, watching a romcom and stuffing popcorn into his large mouth. The thought makes me grin and he raises an eyebrow. "Something funny?"

"Hilarious, actually."

"Care to share?"

"Not really." I give him the bag and he inspects the contents in it. "I don't have drugs." I make a joke, chuckling lightly but Nimit doesn't respond. He shuffles through the books, papers, laptop and then zips the bag. "No, you don't."

One of these days, maybe I'll stick a condom in my bag – just to watch his reaction. Would he be jealous?

Rolling my eyes, I go down the stairs, ignoring my father's door. He's away somewhere in Austria, I think. I gave up knowing about his whereabouts long back, it became such a hassle. He's away so frequently and travels to so many different places, it's hard to keep track. Plus, Nimit always knows where he is so if I ever want to know – I just ask him.

Well, if we are being candid, I don't care where my father is. To the world, he's a perfect dad but to me – I would trade him in a heartbeat.

"Breakfast? The usual?"

"Yes, please." I sit on the counter, putting my elbow on the table and resting my chin on it. Our cook – Marina, has made banana pancakes and Nimit tips four pancakes into a plate, layering them with maple syrup and sliced Apple pieces. He places the plate in front of me and I beam at him. "Thank you."

Somehow the food tastes better when he is the one serving it.

He makes his own protein shake and egg salad bowl – health freak. I start to eat once he is seated in front of me. It took me over a month to persuade my father and Nimit to let him eat with me at the same table instead of him disappearing into a corner. It wasn't easy but luckily, it worked.

Making light conversations has never been his forte and on most days, I have to be the one initiating any casual talk. So I glance him through half open eyes. "So, you got any plans for today – other than following me around?"

"No." His eyes are fixated on the salad and my shoulder slump in defeat. Would it kill him to actually formulate a sentence?

"Will you be staying the night here?"

"Yes. Your father is out of the country so I'll be in the next room."

My stomach clenches at the thought, he's just a door away, so close... and yet so far. I take a bite of the pancake and glance at him. How can someone look so attractive while chewing a cucumber? Who are his parents? Damn, his genes!

Suddenly, my phone rings and I rush to get it out of my jeans pocket. It's Ryan, one of my school and college mates and my boyfriend, if I had ever said yes to him. "Hey Ryan!"

That gets Nimit's attention. His head snaps up to face me and his eyes narrow ever so slightly. If I wasn't so observant, I would've missed it easily. It makes me smirk a little, the notion that Nimit might be jealous is rather exciting. But deep deep down, in the part I choose to ignore, I know that he has no reason to be jealous.

"Hey! You left?" Ryan asks and I can hear him starting his motorbike.

"Not yet." I reply, chewing the pancakes and glancing at Nimit through the corner of my eyes.

"You got the software assignment ready?"

"Yeah, wasted my weekend on it." I grumbled, hating the fact that most of my weekend went in curating a 10-page software assignment. Not that I had any other plans, my most thrilling evening is swimming in my private pool with Nimit keeping watch from the poolside. Because God forbid, a crow shits in the pool – who will save me from that then?

"I know right, I had to skip a party for it. Ugh! Hurt my reputation." Ryan complained, making me chuckle lightly. Ryan is the son of a famous movie star, so he is always invited to parties, media events and famous gatherings, and he tries to attend them all. A complete extrovert, unlike me.

His idea of fun is dancing at a club, drinking alcohol, and partying hard until the wee hours. My idea of fun is going to a nice café, having a long chat with someone special and then talking a walk on the beach.

"Anyway, you are coming to the fab event tonight?"

Fab event is the well-known fashion show for national lingerie brands, showcasing their new collections. Which means there will be tons of sexy women dressed scantily and handsome men wearing tight boxers. And it's an event that my conventional and oppressive father will never allow me to attend. His only daughter, attending a panties event – the headline writes itself, doesn't it? "Ryan, it's a Monday."

"Come on, we'll be done by 11. That's still early."

I sigh and shake my head, I hear the sound of his horn and scowl a little. "Are you riding the bike? How many times have I told you to not talk while driving?"

"Relax, mom." Ryan mutters through the wind. "I am not holding the phone, I am wearing a Bluetooth earpiece."

"You are still distracted."

"That's only because it is you, you are the distraction."

By now I should be used to his sudden flirty lines but I am not, some make me smile and feel special but most make me feel guilty and dismayed that I can't return his feelings. "Ryan..."

"It's just a line, Aisha. Relax." I can see Nimit visibly straining to listen in the conversation. "Anyway, you'll come, right?"

"I'll have to ask dad."

"Your dad is away."

Crap, how does he know that? "I'll still need to ask him, inform him. You know the drill, Ryan."

"Fine." Ryan grunts, the disapproval clear in his tone. "But you are 22, how long are you going to stay at your father's place and abide by his rules? You have a bodyguard, bring him with you. It's an event with top security, if you can't even attend this then what life are you living? Do you not get a say in where you want to go and what you want to do? Come on, Aisha, live a little, won't you? Your happiness isn't in those four walls your father has built for you, you need to get out, meet new people, share some laughs, have a fun time. And it's not like you'll be surrounded by strangers, I am there, Beth, Sania, Kelly, Imran, Krish, all will be there." He sighs audibly. "Just think about it, okay? Aren't you bored, it's been months since you have come out anywhere with us. Live a little, can't you?"

His words sting my heart and tighten the knot of shame in my belly. He is right, I did mature and obey my father but at what cost – losing all rights to my freedom and independence. I always do what my father say, go where he tells me to go, study what he expects me to – it's a disastrous cycle. A newfound sense of determination washes over me and I feel a renewed energy coursing through my veins. That urge to challenge and rebel is back again and it's stronger than ever. "I'll think about it."

"Good, I'll see you in 20 minutes."

"Okay." He cuts the call and I keep the phone back in my pocket, ignoring Nimit's questioning gaze. After a few seconds, Nimit clears his throat, demanding attention. "What did Ryan want?"

"Nothing."

"That didn't seem like nothing. It was a rather lengthy talk."

I lick my dry lips, suddenly feeling nervous. I have to go to the event tonight but how can I persuade Nimit – or how can I sneak out without him? Both are equally impossible. And Nimit, being the perfect bodyguard he is – will never let me leave without causing a scene.

Nimit stands up, tall and dominating, my eyes widen at his formidable glare. "I don't know what you are thinking but I wouldn't do anything stupid." It a clear warning.

If I wanted to do something stupid, I'd be kissing you right now. Of course, I keep that reply all to myself. "Noted. Can we leave now? I don't want to be late to college."

Nimit gives one last lingering look, scanning my face and I try my best to mask my expressions and keep my face neutral. After a few long seconds, he shakes his head and keeps the empty plates and bowls into the sink. "Let's go."

I breathe out a sigh of relief and follow him outside, towards the car. He knows I am up to something and if he's as good as I think he is – he will find it out.

Think Aisha, think, how can you persuade Nimit to let you go to an event that your father will never allow you to attend?

~~~~

Here you go - the first chapter of Bulletproof my hear!

Do you like it? Do you? Do you? Do you? Please tell me you do. Vote if you want to read more about this sizzling but forbidden chemistry between Aisha and Nimit!

I'll also be dedicating chapters to awesome people who are constantly voting and expressing your thoughts!

Xoxoxo~

Bạn đang đọc truyện trên: AzTruyen.Top