"The Blazing Heiress" crossed 50K+ views. I never really thought it would. Thanks to everyone who gave this book a shot, despite the poorly crafted characters and poor writing in the initial chapters❤️
Sorry for taking a while with this update. Writing these three characters with their whirlwind of emotions and opinions got a lot tricker than I expected.
This chapter is nowhere near perfect and definitely not what I wanted it to be. I may have made mistakes while switching between POV and showing their conflict. So your feedbacks are very much welcome.
Alexa play "Arcade" by Duncan Laurence 🎶
Happy Reading❤️
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"Guilt, regret, resentment, grievances, sadness, bitterness, and all forms of NON-FORGIVENESS are caused by too much past, and not enough presence."
— Eckhart Talle
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An ice-like astonishment seized Avni, her breath freezing in her lungs and the searing coldness sluicing in her veins, seeping into every cell of her body until it encased her whole body in a glazy iceberg.
Her gaze locked on the flickering ambers as they studied her rigidly, the iceberg melting in the leer.
The heat of Viransh's presence wasn't the customary, pleasant warmth that would permeate into her body, caressing her with its tenderheartedness—the one she was accustomed to. Instead, it was the one that even brushed gently against her, was smoldering, wanting to scorch her with its unrelenting fervor.
How? The question rushed to the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed it down. Puzzlement wore off and the realization sunk in.
Viransh Malik was no fool. Surrounded by impassive board members once every quarter and fawners brown-nosing around him, it was no secret he was trained to read people's expressions while being taught the ropes of how to lead the company.
And it wasn't like Avni carried herself well in the past hour. She was awkward. Appalled. And ashamed.
Something shifted in the air. It grew heavier, more languid with the weight of the unpicked motif. The soft-hued walls rang with profuse voices. Tablewares clinked, fluctuating decibels of waiters' and guests' timbres buzzed into the dining area, welting and whirring from the slightly unlatched kitchen door fusing into—along with the soft, melancholic melody playing through the mount speakers. But everything attuned noiselessly around the three adults, an abysmal silence isolating them from the merry world.
Viransh's head titled a smidge, the starchy white napkin sliding from his calloused fingers and collapsing on the hardwood—soundless. His broad shoulders flexed into an even position parallel to the white tabletop. For the better part of five minutes, it seemed no closer to tiring as he interlocked his fingers, tucking them against the smooth curve of his neck and the strong, chiseled jaw. His elbows reclined on the flat table, and his wide tapered frame hunched forward as he imprisoned the young woman in his jarring scrutiny.
The afternoon sun probed through the floor-to-ceiling window pane, encasing a golden glow on his fairly clean-cut profile. Such a rare sight to behold in a spectator's life that doing so now felt sinful to the dazed heiress. However, the flicker of his eyes unfurled a different story. They unyieldingly flared as if the puddle of molten amber crackled with thousand shimmering stars, the intensity in them matching that of the scorching, valiant sun in the unclouded sky.
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The Blazing Heiress
عاطفيةᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇɪʀꜱ' ᴄʜʀᴏɴɪᴄʟᴇꜱ ʙᴏᴏᴋ - ɪ 𝐀𝐯𝐧𝐢 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐚𝐢 is like a crimson rose, a captivating allure to gaze at from afar, yet with thorns that can prick if touched. To the world, she is an enigmatic and vaguely threatening heiress, relentless in pursui...
