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Playboy vs Loveguru
Playboy vs Loveguru
Author: Chhavi Gupta

Chapter 1

Author: Chhavi Gupta
last update Last Updated: 2024-12-04 11:09:38

Roohi's POV

The shimmering lights of the Shah mansion were a dazzling backdrop to (Sangeet) one of the pre-wedding ceremonies of my friend, Mihir Shah. He looked undeniably handsome, dressed as a groom, his face radiating happiness as he prepared to marry the love of his life, Gaurvi. The air was thick with excitement, laughter, and the delicate scent of roses. The rhythmic beats of traditional drums filled the night, creating an atmosphere of pure joy.

But my mind was far from the celebrations.

As I stood there, my eyes drifted away from the dancing guests and vibrant colors, seeking out the one person I couldn’t help but look for...

 Vihan Singh Rathore. 

The man who had unknowingly held my heart captive for years. There he was, as magnetic as ever, leaning casually against the bar, his tuxedo tailored to perfection. His hair was tousled in that maddening way, like he’d just run his hand through it—a gesture that, despite myself, made my heart race every time.

He flashed that dangerous smile, the one that made every woman in the room stop in her tracks. And right now, he had a small group of them hanging on his every word. They were giggling, blushing, swooning, just like countless others before them.

I felt a familiar pang in my chest.

Unlike them, I wasn’t just another admirer. I wasn’t some random girl hoping for his attention for the night. No, I was Roohi Kapoor—one of his best friends. The one who’d been by his side since kindergarten. The girl who had stuck around through every silly crush, every attention-seeking effort, and every flirtatious moment of him that had, over time, chipped away at my own heart.

We had always been close, but I’d longed for more than just friendship for years. I wanted him to see me—not as the girl he called for advice when his latest fling didn’t work out, but as someone who could be more to him than a friend. More than the one he confided in when things went wrong. 

Tonight, though, my hope was dwindling.

I had made extra effort in getting ready for this ceremony, hoping—no, praying—that tonight would be different. That he might finally see me as something other than the girl who was always there in the background. The gown I was wearing, a rich emerald green that clung to my curves just right, had been chosen with him in mind. I had wanted his eyes to light up when he saw me, to catch him staring, maybe to make him forget all about whatever other women were around.

But as usual, he was more interested in others.

The memory of what had happened two days earlier flashed in my mind, and my frustration grew.

We’d gone shopping together for the wedding. It had been my idea, of course. I’d suggested that since Mihir and Gaurvi were getting married, we...Vihan and I should wear something special too. Something that would make us stand out as the best man and maid of honor. He’d agreed, albeit with his usual nonchalance, but I was excited. The thought of spending an afternoon with him, just the two of us, picking out clothes, trying them, and selecting them together had felt like another chance to be close to him.

We went to Mohit Uncle’s Creations, our favorite fashion designer. It had been a safe choice because Mohit uncle himself wasn’t there that day, . He was our parents' friend who loved to tease, and I knew he would’ve jumped on the opportunity to make jokes about Vihan and me if he had seen us shopping together for wedding outfits. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy the teasing—sometimes I even secretly wished Vihan would take those jokes seriously—but I didn’t want him to feel awkward or self-conscious. Not yet.

When we arrived, Mohit uncle’s assistant, Harry, greeted us and led us through a selection of outfits. I short-listed a few gowns, each one more elegant than the last, but my focus was always on Vihan. I watched his reactions carefully, hoping to see a flicker of something—anything—that showed he noticed me in a different light. 

But before we could even try on any outfit, or select something for him, his phone rang.

Oh, no!!! 

No! No! No! 

I wanted to kill the person on the other side... Especially If it is a girl. 

But I could not... and of course, it was a girl.

“I’ll be right back, Roohi,” he said, flashing me an apologetic smile. “You know how it is. Just get whatever you want.”

And just like that, he was gone.

I didn’t need to ask. I knew exactly what it was. Another girl. Some beautiful woman had probably called him, and without a second thought, he was off to meet her. Again.

He left me standing there, alone there, surrounded by elegant gowns and mirrored reflections of myself. I felt a wave of frustration washed over me. I’d taken time out of my day for this, I’d tried to make this moment special, and yet here I was—forgotten the second someone else called him.

I didn’t even bother choosing a gown after that. What was the point? I went home, tossed aside all the excitement I’d felt earlier, and pulled out a dress I already owned for the pre-wedding party. It was a gorgeous gown, no doubt, but it wasn’t the one I’d wanted to wear. It wasn’t the one I’d hoped Vihan would notice me in.

And now, here I was, standing in the middle of Mihir’s pre-wedding celebrations, watching Vihan flirt with other women while I tried to convince myself that I hadn’t expected anything different.

It had been years since Mihir and I suggested to each other that I should tell Vihan about my feelings, and he would confess his feelings for Gaurvi as he was almost in the same boat as me. 

Both Mihir and I made unsuccessful attempts to tell our love interests about our feelings. But either they were oblivious or wanted to remain that way.

Mihir and Gaurvi were now getting married, starting the next chapter of their lives together. And me? I was still standing in the same place, watching Vihan slip away from me over and over again.

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    Roohi's POVThe shimmering lights of the Shah mansion were a dazzling backdrop to (Sangeet) one of the pre-wedding ceremonies of my friend, Mihir Shah. He looked undeniably handsome, dressed as a groom, his face radiating happiness as he prepared to marry the love of his life, Gaurvi. The air was thick with excitement, laughter, and the delicate scent of roses. The rhythmic beats of traditional drums filled the night, creating an atmosphere of pure joy.But my mind was far from the celebrations.As I stood there, my eyes drifted away from the dancing guests and vibrant colors, seeking out the one person I couldn’t help but look for... Vihan Singh Rathore. The man who had unknowingly held my heart captive for years. There he was, as magnetic as ever, leaning casually against the bar, his tuxedo tailored to perfection. His hair was tousled in that maddening way, like he’d just run his hand through it—a gesture that, despite myself, made my heart race every time.He flashed that danger

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