"Where were you from, you little bastard? I won’t let you go!"
Ravi clenched his teeth. His face burned with fury.
It was the first time anyone had ever dared to kidnap his girlfriend in broad daylight.
Inside the café, the people sitting there and having their snack were now huddled in hushed tones.
"Haha, did you see that? This is crazy. Just now, those two were on a blind date, and this guy just walked in and snatched the girl away!"
"Yeah, look at that guy’s face—dark as night."
"If you want to live in peace, better make peace with some green on your head."
Listening to the conversations around him, Ravi’s brain was about to burst.
Too humiliated to remain there any longer, he stormed out of the café.
Fuming too was Anjali—the lady who had accompanied Alex on a blind date.
She never thought Alex would actually manage to upstage her!
She was seething with rage such that it seemed her lungs would burst.
Just a minute ago, she’d declared that if Alex was able to pull off a stunt like that, she will eat cow dung.
The others in the room attempted to suppress their laughter but were unable to.
Their faces were eloquent enough.
Anjali was thoroughly embarrassed when things did not go her way.
"He’s too young," she grumbled. "Even if he’s handsome, can he actually provide her with a secure future?"
"Heh." She sneered, attempting to maintain face.
She knew that in wealth, family, and appearance, she could never match Riya.
So the only thing she could do was belittle Alex to make herself feel better.
But who would’ve thought?
The next moment, Alex walked Riya to a black Mercedes-Benz G-Wagon, pulled out the key fob, and with a click—unlocked the car.
"He drives a G-Wagon?!"
Anjali’s eyes widened, her face frozen in disbelief.
As someone obsessed with high-end lifestyles, she instantly recognized the beast of a car. A Mercedes-Benz G-Class—worth at least ₹2 crore!
Didn’t Aunt Lata say Alex was only a security guard?
How the hell was he driving a car like that?
Was this guy...perhaps pretending to be poor?
Could he really be a rich second-generation son?
Anjali suddenly felt a pang of regret in her heart.
But then she comforted herself—"Hmph, there aren’t that many rich second generations in real life. This must be rented. Yeah... totally rented."
A man in a sharp blazer appeared, a professional smile plastered on his face. It was Rajesh, the real estate executive Alex had seen earlier that morning.
He rushed over, obviously attempting to make a lasting impression.
"Mr. Carter! Mr. Carter!"
"Here are your keys to your villa. Our people have kept everything spotless—you can move in at any time tonight."
Rajesh handed over the keys politely with both hands.
Seeing the pretty girl standing next to Alex, he raised an eyebrow in quick surprise but maintained a professional tone.
A young, collected, and obviously wealthy man like Alex—wouldn’t have someone on his arm naturally.
"Thank you," Alex said, taking the keys with a nod and a courteous smile.
He valued Rajesh’s professionalism keen, respectful, and efficient. Someone he’d definitely consider working with again for future purchases.
"And this is your friend?" Rajesh asked, smiling. "She’s stunning. Easily more elegant than most film stars."
"Thank you," Alex replied.
Riya smiled and responded politely, "You’re kind, sir."
She didn’t say anything more. But the happiness on her face already gave it all away.
"We have somewhere to be," Alex said gently. "We’ll talk later."
"Of course. Have a nice day," Rajesh said with a smile. "If you need any assistance, anything at all—the villa or anything else—don’t hesitate to call me anytime."
In the eyes of the crowd, Alex got into his G-Wagon, Riya by his side, and zoomed away with flamboyant.
Far from there, Anjali’s face fell as if she had been struck by lightning.
He actually purchased a villa?
She was not distant enough to miss the entire exchange between Alex and Rajesh. Each word struck her like a brick.
"I wonder where the villa is..." she said to herself.
"If it’s in a small city, maybe just ₹1-1.5 crore."
"But if it’s in Mumbai..."
It just gave her the jitters thinking about it.
Not ready to give up, she wanted to know more than anything where exactly Alex had purchased the villa.
And so she went storming over to Rajesh, the property agent.
"What sort of villa did that gentleman just purchase?" she demanded, her tone crisp. "Where can I find one like it?"
Rajesh arched his eyebrows, then shook his head with a courteous but firm smile. "Sorry, ma’am. Due to customer confidentiality, I am not able to say.
But after one look at Anjali’s flashy but clashing attire and her hostile tone, Rajesh had already made an educated guess about the type she was.
She was obviously itching to probe into Alex’s past, likely to find out if she could try her luck.
"Come on, you’re just being obstinate," Anjali lashed out, not ready to give up yet. "If you won’t say where it is, can you at least give me an idea how much it was?"
Rajesh let out a deep breath. The woman was sticking to him like a piece of chewing gum on a shoe.
"Ma’am, I simply can’t give out personal client information," he repeated again, sounding annoyed.
But noticing she wasn’t going to release him anytime soon, and wishing to get this over with, he finally acquiesced slightly.
"Okay," he said wearily. "I won’t tell you where—but if you need to know something..."
He leaned forward slightly.
"Mr. Carter’s villa? The whole cost is around ₹10 crore. In cash."
Then he adjusted his blazer and shot her one final stare which is half pity, half revulsion—and went away.
After all, in this business, Rajesh had known it all. Gold-diggers, drama queens, pseudo influencers... nothing shocked him anymore.
As for Anjali? Not even in the same league.
She was standing there, paralyzed.
"A ₹10 crore villa?!"
"What sort of man is this Alex?!"
Tears filled her eyes.
She nearly wept right there and then.
This was not a small amount it was a ₹10 crore mistake!
No—scratch that—a billion-rupee catastrophe!
I should have been pleasant and modest! I should’ve been dignified and righteous!
She could’ve been enjoying coffee in that villa today... perhaps even filming a "rich life" reel on Instagram from the balcony.
But no. Her pride had destroyed everything.
"No... I can’t take this lying down!"
"I have to go out and find him. Apologize. Tell him everything. Perhaps, just perhaps—he’ll take me back!"
Anjali spun around and rushed off, determination blinding her like a last-resort TV soap heroine.