CHAPTER 1 Dear God, Not Our Fathers

The clock on the wall showed 1:30 PM.

Write a comment ...

Hello my dear rival

In the ruthless world of power suits and boardroom wars, two fierce business rivals are forced into an unexpected marriage—an alliance born not of love, but of obligation. Their relationship is a battlefield of pride, sharp words, and unspoken tension, until one quiet night a careless confession about the past sparks a dangerous curiosity. What begins as a search for answers soon spirals into something far more unsettling. At an elite auction in the mist-covered hills, a rare antique neckpiece becomes the turning point. Driven by rivalry and impulse, he wins it—unaware that the moment it touches his hands, fragments of another lifetime begin to haunt him. Vivid dreams. A royal palace. Echoes of betrayal. And a woman trapped behind gilded walls. As the visions grow stronger, the line between past and present blurs. He remembers being a prince. He remembers a palace built not as a home, but as a prison. And he remembers the fire—one that the world believed to be a tragic accident. But the truth buried in the ashes is far darker. Because the flames didn’t just consume bodies… they concealed a secret that was never meant to survive. A sweeping tale of rivals bound by fate, love entangled with vengeance, and a past life that refuses to stay buried—where every memory uncovered brings them closer to a truth that could either set them free… or destroy them both.

SYMPHONY OF SECRETS

PROLOGUE Symphony of Secrets The morning sun spilled golden light across the sprawling campus of St. Thomas University, one of the most prestigious universities in the country. The red-brick buildings stood proudly against the clear blue sky, while students hurried through the corridors with books in their hands, laughter echoing from every corner. Yet amidst the ordinary hustle, there was an unusual excitement in the air. Groups of girls stood near the entrance, fixing their hair repeatedly while pretending to scroll through their phones. Boys adjusted their jackets, whispering among themselves. Some first-year students looked around in confusion. "What happened?" "Why is everyone waiting here?" A senior merely smirked. "Just wait." The distant roar of an engine broke the morning silence. A sleek black sports car entered the campus. Within seconds, another luxury SUV followed. Then another. Students rushed towards the parking area. "GenZ Ultim aa gaya!" The entire atmosphere erupted into cheers. The first car door opened. A tall young man stepped out. Aadrit Aaryavardhan. Six feet one inch tall. Perfectly styled black hair. Sharp jawline. Calm brown eyes carrying effortless confidence. Without uttering a single word, his mere presence demanded attention. The second door opened. Rivansh Rathode. Always smiling. Always charming. The prankster of the university. The boy who could make anyone laugh within seconds. Lastly... The rear door opened. Abhimanyu Singhania. Quiet. Elegant. Mysterious. Unlike the other two, he rarely smiled. His silence alone carried more authority than most people's words. As the trio walked inside together, students instinctively moved aside, creating a path for them. Girls screamed excitedly. Phones were raised. Videos started recording. --- English Narration For three years... These three boys had ruled St. Thomas University. Not because they were the richest. Not because they were the strongest. But because together... They were magic. --- Inside the auditorium... Massive LED screens lit up. A concert from the previous year's annual fest played across the screen. Thousands of students screamed as the logo appeared. GENZ ULTIM The university's most famous music band. Aadrit on vocals. Rivansh on guitar. Abhimanyu on piano and composition. They weren't merely performers. They were legends. Every cultural festival. Every competition. Every college event. The winners were almost always... GenZ Ultim. Their songs had crossed millions of streams online. Their fan clubs existed in multiple colleges. They were celebrities even before graduation. Life was perfect. Or so they believed. --- The following Monday... The administrative office buzzed with unusual activity. The Principal personally stood near the entrance. Students exchanged curious glances. "New admissions?" "No..." "I heard they're transfer students." Three expensive SUVs entered the campus one after another. The doors opened. Three unfamiliar boys stepped out. The first one adjusted the strap of his backpack before smiling politely at everyone. Abhimaan Singh Thakur. Simple white shirt. Black jeans. No expensive accessories. No arrogance. Just warmth. The second one stepped forward. Tej Veer Rajkot. Athletic. Bright smile. Eyes filled with mischief. He casually greeted even the security guards. Finally... The third boy quietly got down. Naveen Rai. Soft-spoken. Calm. Observant. He noticed everything. Yet spoke almost nothing. --- Instead of walking away... Abhimaan noticed an elderly gardener struggling to lift flower pots. Without hesitation... He placed his own bag aside. --- Abhimaan (Hindi) "Chacha, main madad kar deta hoon." English Translation "Uncle, let me help you." The old gardener smiled gratefully. Nearby... A first-year student accidentally dropped dozens of books. Before anyone else reacted... Tej crouched down. --- Tej (Hindi) "Arre sambhal ke... exam se pehle hi books se dosti tod dogi kya?" English Translation "Careful... are you planning to break your friendship with your books even before the exams?" The nervous girl laughed. Moments later... Naveen silently helped a visually impaired student reach the library without expecting even a thank you. Students observed everything. There was no show-off. No cameras. Only genuine kindness. --- Days passed. The trio slowly became familiar faces around campus. Then came the Cultural Club auditions. The auditorium overflowed with excitement. The host announced... "Next performance... Abhimaan Singh Thakur... Tej Veer Rajkot... and Naveen Rai." The lights dimmed. Absolute silence. Soft piano notes filled the auditorium. The three boys stepped forward. Then... The beat suddenly changed. A breathtaking fusion of contemporary dance, hip-hop and classical expressions unfolded before everyone's eyes. Each movement was flawless. Each expression told a story. Pain. Hope. Freedom. Loss. The audience sat frozen. Even the judges forgot to blink. As the final pose ended... Silence. Then... The loudest applause the auditorium had ever witnessed. Students stood on their feet. Teachers clapped proudly. Some girls even had tears in their eyes. Backstage... Aadrit watched everything. His confident smile disappeared. Rivansh folded his arms. Abhimanyu remained expressionless... But his fingers tightened. For the first time... Someone had stolen the spotlight. --- Within weeks... Everything changed. The campus split into two groups. One side proudly supported... GenZ Ultim. The other admired... Abhimaan... Tej... and Naveen. Social media pages compared them daily. "Who's better?" "The Kings vs The Newcomers." Music competitions. Sports. Festivals. Debates. Everywhere... The rivalry intensified. Yet surprisingly... Neither group crossed their limits. Their battles remained dignified. But everyone knew... It was only a matter of time before someone snapped. --- One afternoon... The two groups crossed paths inside the central corridor. Hundreds of students slowed down. Everyone sensed something was about to happen. Aadrit stepped forward. A confident smirk appeared. --- Aadrit (Hindi) "Naye ho... thoda dheere chalo. Yeh campus hum teen saal se chala rahe hain." English Translation *"You're new here... Take things slowly. We've ruled this campus for the last three years."* Tej was about to reply. Abhimaan lightly stopped him. He smiled politely. --- Abhimaan (Hindi) "Raaj karna aur izzat kamaana... dono alag cheezein hoti hain." English Translation *"Ruling and earning respect... are two completely different things."* The corridor became silent. Rivansh let out a small laugh. --- Rivansh (Hindi) "Interesting..." Abhimanyu merely looked into Abhimaan's eyes. Something felt strangely familiar. As if... He had met those eyes somewhere before. Neither of them understood why. The two groups walked away. But destiny had already tied an invisible thread between them. --- That night... The cheerful atmosphere vanished. Rain poured heavily. Thunder echoed across the city. That night... Rain lashed against the hostel windows as thunder echoed across the silent campus. Inside Room 307... Abhimaan quietly locked the door. He checked the windows. Pulled the curtains shut. Only after making sure no one was watching did he open an old steel trunk hidden beneath the bed. Tej and Naveen entered a few moments later. Neither of them spoke. The room was heavy with silence. Inside the trunk lay a faded photograph of an Indian Police Commissioner, stained with dried blood. Beside it rested three old friendship bands and a small silver pendant engraved with an unfamiliar symbol. Abhimaan gently picked up the photograph. His eyes lingered on the Commissioner's smiling face. For a brief moment... Pain flickered across all three of their faces. Tej finally broke the silence. Tej (Hindi) "Kitne saal aur...?" English Translation "How many more years...?" Abhimaan lowered his gaze. Abhimaan (Hindi) "Jab tak woh humein dhoondhna band nahi karta." English Translation "Until he stops searching for us." Naveen slowly folded the photograph and placed it back into the trunk. None of them noticed... Far away... Inside a lavish mansion somewhere in Russia... A massive wall of surveillance screens glowed in the darkness. A shadowy figure sat in an armchair, his face hidden. One by one, the screens displayed CCTV footage from St. Thomas University. The camera paused on three familiar faces. Abhimaan Singh Thakur. Tej Veer Rajkot. Naveen Rai. The man's lips curled into a chilling smile. He whispered in fluent English, "After all these years... I finally found you." Lightning illuminated the room for a split second, revealing only the silhouette of the man before darkness swallowed him once again. English Narration Six rivals. Three boys carrying a secret that could destroy countless lives. One ruthless Russian gangster. A murder witnessed years ago. A truth buried beneath layers of lies. When destiny begins to play its symphony... No one walks away unchanged. This... Was only the beginning.

AFTERMATH

There are families whose names are remembered because of their legacy... And then there are families whose names become legends because of their values. The Thakurs were one such family. Powerful yet humble. Wealthy yet compassionate. Respected by all, feared by none. To the world, they were the embodiment of love, unity, and honor—a family that stood together through every storm, protecting one another with unwavering trust. But every paradise has its serpent. From the shadows emerged two people driven by an obsession no one could understand. Every move they made was calculated, every step designed to shatter the Thakurs' happiness, destroy their reputation, and reduce their empire to ashes. No one knew why. No one knew what the Thakurs had ever done to deserve such hatred. As the attacks grew deadlier and secrets began to surface, one question echoed louder than ever— Why would someone dedicate their life to destroying a family that had done no wrong? Or perhaps... Some truths are buried so deeply that even the innocent begin to believe them. AFTERMATH Because every perfect story hides a forgotten chapter.

03

CHAPTER 1 Dear God, Not Our Fathers

author manasaveni

Storyteller

2 Followers

19 Following

Hello my dear rival

author manasaveni

SYMPHONY OF SECRETS

author manasaveni

AFTERMATH

author manasaveni