Abhay Verma Family Man Novels & Stories

Their faces twisted in confusion, anxiety flickering in their eyes. Whenever they wanted me to give something up, they’d slap me with one hand and offer candy with the other. It never failed to work. All they had to do was take the first step and reach out, and I’d cave every time. This time, no one was on the other end of the call, eagerly calling them “Mom” and “Dad.” “Honey, Laura’s not exactly the sharpest at work, so why do you keep spoiling her? When we’re gone, she’ll burn through the family’s fortune in no time.

’ It was Abhay who came back from morning walk and found a small figure standing playing with her dupatta. ‘Wo wo .. I .. baby .. hungry.’ She stammered and looked down. Abhay felt sad seeing his daughter stammering in front of him. ‘That’s great, my grandchild his hungry. Tell me what he wants to eat.’ Siya looked at the man, who is none other than Abhimanyu Singh Raizada India’s richest man, and one of the top 10 rich men in the world. ‘Sweetpea what do you guys want?’ Again he mentioned about her baby. She came out of trance and replied.

He is in a relationship with the daughter of the Ahuja family Riya Ahuja. Alia Rawat - the one and only daughter of the Rawat Family, she is also a spoiled brat but loves her family and brother a lot and can do anything for them, she do not like middle class people and poor people because she always lived in luxury and never witness a life of a middle class people. she only knows what her brother Sameer told her but she is more close to her Ranvijay Bhai who is ready to anything for her and pampered her a lot. ........................................................................................................................................................................................

INow Abhi uncle trusted him so much that he never try to know how he becomes so rich in a short period of time. When I grew up and took all the responsibility about our business from Abhi uncle, Viraj Khanna was already a rich man with many properties. As he was my father's friend I didn't doubt him. I also believed him as my father and uncle. I never imagine that he is the main culprit!! After my conversation with Ahmed Ullah, I sent Amaan to New York to check this bastard's all old documents about his business.

“You and your cricket stories! You’re going to make Bhabi crazy with them too.” Abhishek turned to greet the other family members — his mother, who looked at him with tears of joy in her eyes, and a few close relatives who showered him with congratulations. He was the golden boy of the Rathore family — the one who brought pride and headlines, the perfect contrast to Avyaan’s shadowy world of power and control. But then, his eyes landed on someone unfamiliar.

Armaan asked sarcastically. “Richer man? My father is a middle class man, Mr Verma. My father is a psychiatrist who works in a small clinic in the outskirts of Mumbai. We live in a single storeyed house. And my momma is very happy in that household. The only thing that she lacked is her two sons” Aaru said. Armaan and Aadesh frowned. “And you know what the most important part is? Mrs Durga Verma was my father’s patient when he first met her.” Aaru said and Armaan and Aadesh stared at her in horror.

I couldn’t watch anymore. Outside the courthouse, reporters were already waiting. “Miss Reyes! Is it true your father stole millions from Vale Holdings?” “Do you admit your family fled to avoid responsibility?” “Where is your mother now?” Their voices blended together until all I could hear was the pounding in my head. My fingers curled into fists, nails biting into my skin, but I kept walking. If I stopped—even for a second—I knew I would fall apart right there on the pavement. They didn’t call my father a criminal to his face.

I mutter, rubbing the back of my neck. His jaw tightens. “Don’t ‘I know’ me. You think I don’t see it? That girl—she didn’t just walk into this for money or convenience. Whatever arrangement you’ve got going, she’s still a person. She deserves the truth.” I stare at the floor, silent. He doesn’t know that Mom doesn’t even realize the woman I married isn’t Eva. That the girl sitting upstairs with her right now—laughing, talking, being hugged like family—is not the one my parents thought I’d bring home.