Okay besties π, buckle up! π’ This chapter is going to be a rollercoaster-full of drama π, emotions, and chaos π₯. Are you ready to dive in? π Keep your snacks ready πΏ, and let's jump right in! π If you enjoy my story, please don't just read and leave-drop a vote π, give a follow π, and share your feedback π.
β π¦Ή β‘ π¦Ή β
"Some people walk into our lives quietly... But their presence changes everything.
This chapter is about moments that speak louder than words."
The club was buzzing with energy when they arrived. Music pounded through the speakers, flashing lights illuminating the dance floor. But the moment Aadhya stepped inside, everything seemed to slow down.
Every eye turned to her.
She was drop-dead gorgeous tonight-dressed in an elegant yet bold outfit that screamed confidence and power. Heads turned, whispers spread, and some even forgot how to breathe.
Kiara whistled, leaning closer to her ear. "Damn, woman! If I weren't straight, I'd have married you already."
Aadhya smirked, flipping her hair dramatically. "Too bad you're not my type, Kiara."
Kiara placed a hand over her heart. "Ouch. That hurt."
Laughing, they joined the others, enjoying drinks and dancing. Everything felt light, fun. Until-
Aadhya sat at the bar, swirling a glass of water in her hand, her expression blank.
Then, a man-dripping in arrogance and lust-swaggered toward her. His gaze roamed her figure, filled with nothing but hunger.
"Hey, gorgeous. Join me for a drink?" His voice was thick with entitlement.
Aadhya didn't even look at him.
"Stay. Fucking. Two meters away from me."
Her tone was colder than ice. A warning.
But men like him never listened.
A sick grin curled his lips as he stepped closer, reaching out-
CRASH!!!
The entire club went silent.
A broken wine bottle. Blood dripping.
The man screamed, clutching his head as he collapsed to the floor, blood oozing from the gash. He hadn't even processed the pain before a sharp heel pressed against his throat.
Aadhya stood over him-calm. Unshaken. Ruthless.
"I warned you, didn't I?" Her voice cut through the music, louder than the music.
The crowd held its breath. Eyes wide.
Shock rippled through the club. Everyone froze-except one person.
Kiara.
She didn't even blink-just smirked, sipping her drink. Her best friend was being her best self.
A girl rushed forward, pushing through the crowd, rage burning in her eyes.
"How dare you do this to my brother?"
The girl's hand swung through the air, aiming straight for Aadhya's cheek.
Bad move.
Before it could land, Aadhya's grip tightened around her wrist, twisting it sharply, mercilessly.
A painful cry escaped the girl's lips, her face contorted in agony. Gasps echoed through the club.
Aadhya leaned down, her voice icy.
"I warned your brother." Her tone was calm, controlled-lethal. "But he didn't listen. Now bear the consequences."
Then-a voice.
"You've made a mistake."
A bulky man in a suit, clearly a bodyguard, stepped forward. His smirk was filled with arrogance.
"The police are outside." He crossed his arms.
Silence. Dead silence. Eyes widened.
Shock. Horror. Fear.
But Aadhya?
She let go of the girl's wrist, letting her fall to the floor. Then, she turned.
Without a single word, she walked toward the exit. Not a flicker of fear. Not an ounce of hesitation.
And behind her-everyone followed.
Aadhya sat on the car's hood, crossing her legs as she took out a mint from her pocket, casually popping it into her mouth. Her expression was cold, unimpressed, as if the entire situation bored her.
The police officer approached, trying to assert authority. "Ma'am, step down. You've committed an act of violence. That man didn't even touch you."
Aadhya raised an eyebrow but didn't move. Instead, she tilted her head, eyes glinting with sharpness.
"Should I have waited?" Her voice was calm, but there was a deadly edge beneath it.
The officer cleared his throat. "Do you know who he is? A businessman's son. Who gave you permission to injure him?"
At that, Aadhya let out a low chuckle, shaking her head.
"Who gave me permission?" She leaned forward slightly. "Who the fuck gave that bastard permission to touch a woman without her consent? Who gave that bastard permission to violate a woman's space? Who gave him the right to put his filthy hands where they don't belong?"
A thick silence settled over the scene.
The officer hesitated but still tried to maintain his stance. "But he didn't actually do anything to you."
Aadhya's lips curled into a smirk, but her eyes were pure steel.
"And that's why we're standing here, officer. Otherwise, we'd be standing at his funeral instead. You'd be investigating his murder right now."
Gasps rippled through the crowd. The officer visibly swallowed.
"When a woman stands up for herself, it's called violence. But when a monster rapes her, you all call it just a mistake."
Her voice was louder now, clear and unwavering.
"For your kind information, sir, that is not a 'mistake.' That is a fucking sin. And the only punishment for it should be death."
The officer's confidence wavered. "You-you can't just say-"
"Tell me, officer," she cut him off, her gaze sharp enough to cut glass. "If your daughter were raped... would you say it was her fault?"
The officer's face paled instantly.
"Would you protect the rapist because he has power? Would you let him walk free while your daughter suffers?"
His hands clenched into fists, his breathing uneven. "I-"
"You failed your daughter today." Her words were slow, deliberate. "Not just the day she was admitted to the hospital, but today-by standing against a woman instead of protecting her."
His eyes widened in shock. "How do you know about my daughter?"
Aadhya finally stood up, stepping off the car. Her expression was unreadable.
"Because, officer..." She took a step forward. "The doctor who saved her life that night-was me. If I stood there and listened to officers like you, your daughter would be in heaven right now. Not standing in front of your eyes."
Dead. Silence.
The officer staggered back. His lips parted in shock, realization crashing over him like a wave.
Then-without hesitation-he dropped to his knees.
His head bowed as he touched her feet, his voice breaking. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."
Aadhya didn't move. Didn't speak. She simply watched as he trembled in shame.
Then she made her stand and said, "Be a man-at least for your womens."
He stood up, turned toward his men, and said firmly, "Take him away."
Then he asked her, "What's your name, ma'am? I need to know your name for the case."
She replied with strength and confidence:
"Aadhya Raichand."
The once-arrogant man screamed, begged-but no one listened.
She is not just a woman. She is a storm.
Everyone stared at Aadhya in admiration, their expressions filled with awe and respect. That girl, fuming with fury and humiliation, stormed away-but no one spared her a glance.
Kiara, grinning like a devil, threw an arm around Aadhya's shoulder. "Damn, woman! You really put them all in their place."
Aadhya turned to Kiara. "Let's go." Her voice was casual, but there was finality in it.
As Aadhya turned to leave, a strange stillness settled around her.
And then-she felt it.
That gaze.
Burning. Heavy. Familiar.
Her steps slowed, her breath caught. Slowly, she turned.
Across the crowd, leaning against a black SUV, stood a man.
Shadowed in darkness. Drenched in silence.
But those eyes.
Ocean-blue eyes locked on her like a predator that never forgot its prey.
Her breath hitched.
Unforgettable.
The same ones from that night.
He stared at her like he'd been waiting. Like he'd found his answer.
And when he smirked... it wasn't curiosity.
It was recognition. Possession.
Aadhya blinked, heart racing, pulse screaming. But she didn't flinch. She turned away-composed, cold.
Still, her chest burned.
Because deep down, she knew-
This wasn't the end of it.
This... was just the beginning.
She walked away. Untouched. Unbothered. Unshaken.
But me?
I stood frozen-my fists clenched, heart pounding like a war drum inside my chest. The crowd still buzzed behind me, whispers rising like smoke, but I couldn't hear a damn thing.
All I saw...was her.
That voice, sharp as a blade.
That fire, unapologetic.
That name-
Aadhya Raichand.
It echoed like a gunshot inside my skull.
I had seen madness. I had caused chaos.
But she-
She was control wrapped in fury. Stillness born of storms.
She was not delicate. Not soft.
She was rage. Fire. Fury wrapped in elegance.
And when she turned... when her eyes met mine for the briefest second before disappearing into the night- Something inside me shifted.
I lit a cigarette, letting the smoke blur the city lights outside my window. The air was silent. Still.Except for the storm she left behind in my mind.
The only thing I could taste...was her name on my tongue.
Why her?
Why the hell does she haunt me like this?
I collapsed onto the bed, fully clothed. My hand rested on my chest like I could slow the storm inside.
But I couldn't.
Because every time I closed my eyes-
I saw her standing on that car like a queen of carnage,
I heard her voice slicing into that officer like judgement,
I felt her eyes pierce through me like fate.
Sleep never came. Just the sound of my own breathing-ragged, heavy- And a name echoing in the silence of my room.
Aadhya.
A name that should've meant nothing. But it clawed at something in me. Something old. Something feral.
I hated women .They ruin everything.
I'd seen it. Lived it. My mother's betrayal still rotted inside my chest, and since then, I learned one truth: Women lie. Women manipulate. Women destroy.
So why the fuck was I still thinking about her?
I took a slow drag, watching the ember burn like the memory of her eyes-wild, untamed, burning. And I should've walked away.
But I didn't.
Even now, lying in my bed, eyes closed, I saw her again.
Standing above a man, heel pressed to his throat. Not trembling. Not hiding. Commanding. I didn't want her.
I wanted to get her out of my head. She wasn't important. She was just noise. A flicker.
I downed the last of my drink, hoping the burn would erase the taste of her voice. It didn't.
I told myself it was just curiosity. Nothing more.
She was reckless. Bold. Dangerous. But that didn't mean I wanted her.
Hell no.
And I knew one thing.
Even if I never saw her again... She had already started a war inside me.
And I hated her for it.
Mornings are supposed to be peaceful.
But clearly, my life doesn't believe in peace.
I was driving toward the hospital, lost in my own thoughts, when a sleek black car suddenly swerved in front of me. Brakes screeched. My heart skipped. It stopped-just in time. But not before scratching the side of my car.
I inhaled sharply, gripping the steering wheel tight,trying to keep my temper in check.
The driver stepped out and approached my window. "I'm so sorry, ma'am. Please move your car-sir is in a hurry."
Oh, hell no.
"Oh really?" I snapped. "Does this look like your sir's personal highway? Call your SIR out here right now and tell him to apologize."
The car door opened, and out stepped a man straight out of a billionaire magazine spread. Expensive suit. Ocean-blue eyes. Arrogance dripping from every inch of him.
My heart stilled for half a second. The same eyes. The same man. The one from that night.
He glanced at his watch, bored. "Look, I'm running late. It's just a scratch. No point overreacting."
"Oh really? Then how about this..." I stepped closer, voice sweet as venom.
"Let me scratch your car and see if you overreact or not."
His lips twitched, slightly amused.
"You think that's the same?"
"Why not?" I raised a brow.
"Being rich doesn't mean the rules only apply to the rest of us."
He checked his watch again.
"I really don't have time for this. Just tell me how much you want. I'll transfer the money."
Without another word, I walked toward his car-and CRACK!
His side mirror shattered into a thousand pieces.
Silence.
He turned slowly, jaw clenched.
"You-"
"Yes," I said calmly, brushing my elbow. "That was me. Oops. Just a tiny little glass piece. Don't overreact now."
He stepped forward slowly, eyes dark with disbelief. "You're insane."
"You are shameless."
"You have no idea who I am," he growled.
I stepped closer, matching his energy. "I don't care who you are, Mr. Shameless. Money doesn't give you the right to drive like a maniac."
His jaw clenched. "You're unbelievable."
"And yet, here I am-very much real," I smiled sweetly, sliding into my car.
I rolled the window down. "Next time, keep your car's airplane mode off. You might own a few buildings, but you don't own the damn road. And yeah-send me the bill. Let me know how much you want me to transfer."
I didn't wait for his response.
I drove off, leaving Mr. Arrogant in the dust.
β§ο½₯οΎ: *β§ο½₯οΎ:* β§ *:ο½₯οΎβ§*:ο½₯οΎβ§
AT KIARA'S CABIN
There are two things I don't tolerate-careless drivers and arrogant rich men. And today, I had the misfortune of meeting both in one single jerk.
Still seething, I stormed into the hospital and straight into Kiara's cabin. I needed coffee-and a vent session.
But the moment I opened the door, I stopped.
Sitting across from Kiara were an elderly couple-my grandpa's best friends, Mr. and Mrs. Rathore.
Great. Time to put on my sanskari filter.
"Aadhya beta!" Dadi ji beamed. "Come here!"
I smiled, slipping inside. "Namaste, Mr. and Mrs. Rathore . How are you both?"
Mr. Rathore huffed playfully. "Don't call us that formally. We're not strangers.We're like your grandparents too."
I laughed. "Okay, Dadu. Dadi."
He grinned. "And do I look as old as your grandpa?"
"Of course not," I said with a grin. "You're easily the most handsome patient we've ever had."
Kiara choked on her drink.
"And me?" Dadi asked, arching a brow.
"You?" I placed a hand over my heart. "You're the heart of this hospital."
Dadu ji pouted. "Not 'young'?"
"If I say 'young,' every nurse will start flirting with you-and Dadi ji will murder me."
Everyone laughed.
But Kiara narrowed her eyes at me. "Now tell me... why are you still burning with rage?"
I sighed and collapsed into the chair. "Met the most arrogant jerk this morning. Almost crashed into my car and tried to pay his way out of it."
Kiara leaned forward like a gossip-loving grandma. "And?"
I grinned and pulled out my phone. "Then I cracked his side mirror. Just like this."
She gasped. "You what?!"
"Just a tiny piece of glass. No big deal," I said smugly.
Dadu laughed. "Beta, I'm proud. Girls today usually back off. But you-you fought back."
"And how," Kiara added. "Poor boy must still be standing there, wondering what tornado hit him."
"I warned you all," I flipped my hair. "My car is my first love. Scratch it, and I'll scratch your ego."
Dadu laughed harder. "So no space for men in your heart?"
"None," I winked. "Love and boys don't exist in my dictionary."
"Until a handsome one shows up," Kiara teased.
"Then he better have good insurance," I smirked.
We were still laughing when Dadi ji spoke again. "Beta, we wanted to invite you both. Our anniversary is coming up-there's a grand puja at the mansion. You must come."
Kiara immediately nodded. "Always, Dadi ji."
I hesitated.
But one look at their warm smiles, and I couldn't say no.
"I'll come," I said softly.
Dadu winked. "Now it's a party."
"The meeting got cancelled."
Ayansh's voice was low, restrained-deceptively calm. But the way his jaw clenched as he stood by the glass wall of his office told another story. Below, the city roared like it always did, unaware that the man who ruled half its underworld had just had his rhythm thrown off.
I never missed meetings.
I never let chaos interfere with control.
Until today.
The Milan deal-months of silent arrangements, untraceable negotiations, and power games-was gone. All because of a delay. A delay caused by her.
The door creaked open, and Advay strolled in, raising an eyebrow as he looked at his friend. "Heard about Milan. You missed it?"
Ayansh didn't respond immediately. His fingers tapped against the cold glass.
Advay smirked. "Also heard your car had a scratch. What happened, bro? Your Rolls-Royce met its match?"
Ayansh turned slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching-but not in amusement. "A woman with more attitude than sense."
Advay chuckled. "Feisty. Sounds like your nightmare. Or your type."
Ayansh's jaw twitched. "She stood in the middle of the road like she owned it. Then lectured me like I was some fucking intern. She shattered my side mirror."
Advay burst out laughing. "God, I wish I had seen that! Who is she? Should I run a check?"
"No." Ayansh cut him off sharply. "She's not important."
"Oh?" Advay raised a brow. "Then why are you pacing like you're seconds away from burning the city?"
Ayansh finally turned to face him. Calm. Precise. But his gaze carried the heat of barely restrained violence. "Because I don't like being thrown off schedule. And I don't like being talked down to. Especially not by someone who doesn't even know who I am."
"Then let it go." Advay shrugged. "One woman with a death wish isn't worth your empire's attention."
There was a beat of silence.
Then Ayansh said flatly, "Reschedule Milan. I want the new meeting set in Zurich. On my terms. And this time, we're not waiting for anyone."
Advay nodded, already pulling out his phone. "Noted. Try not to get into any street fights before takeoff."
With one last smirk, he walked out.
Ayansh remained still, his expression unreadable. Only when the door shut behind Advay did he let out a slow breath.
He closed his eyes for a moment-and her voice came back, sharp and smug, echoing like a siren:
"Scratch your car and call it overreacting, huh?"
His fist curled at his side.
Her audacity. The way she didn't flinch, didn't care, didn't back down.
He hated people who wasted his time.
He hated being challenged.
But most of all-he hated that he still remembered her face.
But somehow, her laughter still echoed louder than the boardroom silence.
And that... irritated him the most.
Ayansh exhaled slowly, voice low, venomous.
"You should've walked away quietly, Miss Aadhya Raichand."
His eyes narrowed as he turned back toward the window.
She wasn't important. But she made a mistake.
And in his world, mistakes had consequences.
Today felt different. It was Dada ji and Dadi ji's anniversary puja, and saying no wasn't even an option.
As soon as I stepped into Rathore Mansion, I sensed a shift in the air. The grand hall was beautifully decorated, filled with soft music and scattered conversations. But what caught my attention the most... was how everyone suddenly turned to look at me.
Eyes widened. Conversations paused. A few people whispered to each other.
I internally groaned. Great. Here we go again.
Beside me, Kiara stifled a laugh. "Looks like an angel fell straight into Rathore Mansion."
I shot her a glare. "Shut up. You know I hate attention."
Then a warm, familiar voice called out, "Oh, Aadhya beta, you've arrived!"
I turned to see Dada ji and Dadi ji walking toward me with bright smiles.
I greeted them politely, "Namaste, Dada ji, Dadi ji."
Dada ji made a dramatic face. "Not again?"
I understood and smiled. "Hello, handsome. Hello, my sweetheart. You both are looking wonderful today."
Dada ji puffed his chest proudly. "We always look good!"
Dadi ji rolled her eyes and lightly smacked his arm. "Enough with the praise. Everyone is clearly looking at Aadhya today more than us."
I sighed. "Dadi ji, not you too."
Before she could respond, a deep, amused voice chimed in, "Well, if you look this beautiful, people will stare, Miss... or should I say, Dr. Gorgeous?"
I turned to Kiara. "Who's that?"
Kiara leaned in and whispered, "Looks like the head of Rathore Mansion's flirt department."
Dada ji chuckled and introduced him. "Meet Advay."
We walked inside, and I spotted Trisha-one of the junior doctors from my hospital-staring at me like I had descended from a mythical cloud. She was smart and hardworking, but honestly, terrified of me. Probably because I'm strict at work.
Kiara giggled. "Poor girl just lost all her courage."
I walked over and smiled warmly. "Hey, do I really look that scary?"
Trisha gulped. "No ma'am, you look like an angel. You're my girl crush and my biggest inspiration. I'm so happy to see you here."
I pouted. "No 'ma'am' today. Just call me Aadhya."
She blinked, then smiled. "Yes... Aadhya di."
I nodded. "Now that's better."
Just then, Dada ji introduced me to Aayan.
Everything felt easy, warm-until it didn't.
A sudden shift in the air settled over the mansion. Laughter faded, conversations died mid-sentence.
Footsteps echoed-slow, firm, dominant.
Laughter stopped. Conversations died. People stood straighter, all heads turning to the entrance.
I frowned. What the hell just happened?
I followed everyone's gaze and saw a man entering. Not walking-commanding.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Sharp features. And those ocean-blue eyes, as cold as they were piercing.
The silence was deafening. No one dared speak. It was like the air itself bent to him.
But me?
My blood boiled.
It was him.
The guy who scratched my car.
My hands curled into fists. My precious car-my first love-wounded because of his idiotic driving. I had tried to stay calm earlier... but seeing him now, looking like he ruled the damn universe?
That was it.
While everyone stood like respectful statues, I stepped forward, heels echoing against marble.
"You? What are you doing here?"
My voice sliced through the silence.
"Came to learn traffic rules? Because you clearly need them."
He blinked. Once. Twice. Like he couldn't believe I was here, genuinely shocked.
Ayan choked. Kiara grabbed my wrist in panic. Advay froze.
But I wasn't done.
"First, reckless driving. Then scratching my car. And now walking around like some royal villain. Are you here for an apology? Or to collect payment for your poor car's side mirror?"
Dead silence.
The room was stone silent. Eyes wide. Mouths open.
And THIS MAN just stared at me, arms crossed.
Advay stared like I had lost my mind. Aayan looked like he was witnessing a world war. Kiara? Whispering prayers under her breath.
And Dada ji?
He blinked between us. Then-grinned.
Then Dadaji stepped in, smiling awkwardly.
"Beta, do you even know who you're yelling at?"
I folded my arms. "Dadu, you don't know him. But I do know he's that shameless man who ruined my car's paint and walked off like he owns the road."
Ayan gasped. "Shameless?!"
Advay turned away to hide his laugh. "Idiot!"
Advay snorted. "This is... gold."
Kiara whispered, "Are you insane?! That's Ayansh Singh Rathore!"
I blinked. "So? He's not a god."
"No," Dadaji said, trying not to laugh, "he's the eldest son of this mansion. Ayansh Singh Rathore."
Pause.
Silence.
Oh. Crap.
I stared at Ayansh-battameez incarnate-and realization smacked me.
Well, this just got awkward.
So, he wasn't just some road-raging lunatic. He was a road-raging, rich lunatic.
Everyone stared, waiting for me to back down.
But I didn't.
I tossed my hair and said, "Still scratched my car though."
Ayan collapsed on the couch laughing. Advay looked like he couldn't breathe. Kiara facepalmed.
Ayansh just raised an eyebrow, those icy eyes glinting with amusement.
The war had begun.
Ayansh finally spoke, cool and calm.
"You seem to have a serious issue with my car."
I raised a brow. "No, I have an issue with you."
"So, you're saying it was my fault?"
"I'm not saying it. I'm confirming it."
Ayan: "Someone get popcorn."
Ayansh stepped closer, voice low. "Do you always talk this much?"
I smirked. "Only when someone forgets how brakes work. Mr. Blind."
Advay choked. "She called him Mr. Blind. Oh my god."
Ayansh's jaw tightened. "You've got quite the attitude."
I stepped closer. "And you've got quite the EGO. We all have our talents."
Kiara was literally whispering prayers now. Dadaji looked like he was regretting every life choice. Ayan was wiping tears.
Ayansh: "You think you can speak to me like this?"
"Oh, I know I can."
He stared.
I smirked.
Checkmate.
Dadaji clapped his hands. "Okay! Let's all breathe before the mansion burns down!"
Ayansh muttered, "Unbelievable."
I turned, tossing one last glare. "Tell your grandson if I see him near my car again, he'll be paying my repair bills."
As I walked away, heels clicking, head held high, the room finally exhaled.
But I could feel those ocean-blue eyes burning into my back.
LATER...............
I had just turned to leave when Dadaji called out, "Wait, beta!"
I turned, sighing. "What now? Filing a case on Mr. Blind?"
Ayan choked again. Advay laughed like he'd aged ten years in two minutes.
"Bhai, she is unbeatable!"
Ayansh muttered, "This woman's insane."
Ignoring him, I focused on Dadaji. He held out a beautifully wrapped box.
"A small gift. A lehenga. Everyone's wearing new clothes today. You should too."
"I have clothes-"
"Not a debate," Dadiji said sweetly. "Just love."
I sighed. "Okay. Thank you."
As I walked away, I still felt that same gaze follow me.
Burning. Watching.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
I never took long to get ready.
But today?
Even Kiara was speechless when I stepped out.
"Damn, Aadhya..." she whistled, scanning me from head to toe. "You literally look like a royal princess today."
I shrugged. "Don't exaggerate. It's just a lehenga."
But even I had to admit-this wasn't just a lehenga.
It was a masterpiece. Deep red, covered in intricate golden embroidery, hugging every curve perfectly like it had been made for me. The long, sheer dupatta trailed behind me like a whisper of elegance. The delicate jewelry Dadi ji insisted I wear completed the transformation.
I never cared for appearances-but this... this made me feel something else. Powerful.
I didn't crave attention. But today... I owned it.
And as we walked into the hall, the world stilled again.
Except this time, it wasn't fear.
It was admiration.
She tensed for a second. Attention wasn't her thing. But, as always, she squared her shoulders and raised her chin.
Let them stare.
And in the center of it all?
The only gaze that mattered-the only one she truly felt-was his.
Ayansh Singh Rathore.
Standing tall near the front, dressed in a regal sherwani, radiating power. His piercing blue eyes were locked-only-on her.
Unblinking. Unmoving.
His gaze locked on mine.
No anger. No mockery.
Just something unreadable.
Rathore Mansion had hosted many grand events, but today felt different.
The golden glow of diyas, the scent of fresh marigolds, the soft chants of the pandit-everything was perfect.
And then... she walked in.
And my world stopped.
Draped in deep red and gold, her steps weren't just graceful-they were a declaration. The sheer dupatta flowing behind her, the confidence in her walk... she wasn't just beautiful.
She was fire. Fierce. Untouchable.
A living storm wrapped in elegance.
My fingers curled at my side. I'd seen models, royals, and business tycoons at global summits. But this?
This was something else entirely.
And then it happened-soft, unspoken, unintentional.
"My Queen."
The words echoed in my mind before I could stop them.
And I hated it. Because she wasn't my queen.
She was the sharp-tongued woman who had insulted me, challenged me, and given me that ridiculous nickname.
But as she stood there, proud, unafraid, eyes blazing with defiance... No one had ever looked at me like that. No fear. No hesitation.
Only war.
And then, so quietly that no one else could hear...
"My Queen."
He didn't say it out loud. He thought it.
But I felt it.
A shiver ran through me. But I didn't acknowledge it. No way. If he thought one intense look could erase what he did to my car, he was delusional.
Dadi ji suddenly beamed and rushed toward me.
"My child looks just like Goddess Lakshmi today!" She cupped my face lovingly, then took a bit of kajal from her eye and placed a small dot behind my ear. "To keep the evil eye away!"
Everyone around nodded in agreement.
I smiled politely and gave them a soft nod. But then, I turned-and there he was again.
Ayansh.
Still watching. Still unreadable. Still processing something he didn't want to admit.
And me?
I just smirked and raised an eyebrow as if to say-
"What happened, Rathore sahab? Breathe."
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
The puja had been going smoothly-everyone was taking their turn for the aarti, the soft chants of the pandit filling the air with calm devotion.
And then came a moment I wasn't prepared for.
"Ayansh beta, go ahead and do the aarti," Dada ji said.
At the exact same time, Dadi ji turned to me with a sweet smile.
"Aadhya beta, you should go too."
I stepped forward. So did he.
And then-
Our hands touched on the aarti plate.
I froze.
He stilled.
For a moment, neither of us moved. Our fingers barely brushed, but it felt like static had sparked through the air.
My first instinct? Pull back. Disinfect my hand later.
But before I could, Pandit ji spoke up firmly.
"Do the aarti together. It is the will of the gods."
I blinked. Excuse me? What now?
I looked up at Mr. Blind, who seemed just as horrified.
"Pandit ji, I think there's been a little confusion-" I began, but everyone around us was already nodding with approval.
"It'll be wonderful if you both do the aarti together," Dada ji added with that dangerously persuasive smile.
I glanced at Ayansh. He was already staring at me, unreadable.
I sighed. Of course.
Reluctantly, we both held the plate together, fingers brushing once again. The fire flickered, the scent of sandalwood and camphor wrapping around us.
I tried very hard to ignore the heat of his hand so close to mine.
The hall was too silent. Every eye was on us.
Ayansh was still. His jaw tight. Eyes fixed ahead.
As soon as the aarti was done, I dropped the plate like it was radioactive.
"Done. Over. I can finally-"
"Aadhya beta, wait," Dadi ji's voice interrupted my mental escape plan.
I turned to her, confused. "Yes?"
She smiled, holding the tilak plate in her hand. "Every year I put tilak on Ayansh's forehead, but this year, I want you to do it."
I blinked.
Wait, what?
Even Ayansh straightened beside me, as if someone had said something outrageous.
"Are you sure, Dadi?" Ayan asked, barely hiding a grin. "They can't even stand each other and you want her to do tilak?"
"Exactly!" I said quickly. "Is this really necessary?"
Dada ji gave me one firm look.
"Aadhya, do it."
That tone meant there was no arguing.
I sighed. Great. Can't even escape with dignity.
Turning to Ayansh, I hesitated, then muttered, "Should I?"
He didn't say anything.
Just gave a tiny nod.
A nod so brief, it was like even he hadn't meant to do it.
I raised an eyebrow, but didn't question it. Instead, I stepped forward and slowly placed the tilak on his forehead. Our eyes met for a second-deep, intense.
His gaze didn't waver. Mine nearly did.
His eyes held something else now. Something... unspoken.
The room had gone completely still.
I added the rice grains and quickly whispered in my mind,
Dear God, please ensure this man stays far, far away from me. Like across-the-continent kind of far.
But the universe had other plans.
I wasn't a man of rituals. I believed in strategy, in power, in silence that commanded more than a thousand prayers ever could. But when Dada ji called my name and told me to step forward for the aarti, I did. Not for tradition-but for him.
And then, she was called too. Aadhya.
The moment she stepped beside me, I felt it.
That pull. That unholy, unwelcome pull- like a spark trying to catch fire inside a cold-blooded storm.
And then it happened. Our hands... touched.
The moment her hand brushed against mine over the aarti plate, something strange rippled through me, -something deeper. Like the air shifted. Like the universe paused just long enough for me to feel it. But it sent a jolt through me, straight to the center of my chest-a place I had long ago trained to feel nothing.
I should've pulled away. I've never liked unexpected closeness, especially from someone who constantly tests my patience.
But I didn't. Instead, I stayed still.
Our fingers barely touched, yet the heat spread like wildfire-subtle, persistent, impossible to ignore.
And then the priest's words echoed: "Do it together. It's God's will."
God's will?
I didn't believe in divine will. I believed in mine.
And yet, I didn't protest.
Not when her hand remained near mine.
Not when her scent-soft, cherry and defiance-invaded my senses.
Not when the fire flickered before us and our hands moved in sync, as if we were born to do this together.
I couldn't help the thought that crept into my mind-
Why does this feel... right?
How ironic.
The girl who had insulted me, challenged me, broke my car mirror and my ego, was now standing inches away from me, unknowingly slipping past my defenses.
I didn't like it. I hated that my heart beat differently around her. That the moment our hands moved together in front of the flame, it felt like something ancient was binding us-something I didn't choose.
Everything around me blurred. The sounds of the puja, the murmurs, the glances-they all faded into nothing. There was only her.
And this silence between us.
Not empty. Charged.
Not calm. Tense.
But not uncomfortable either. Strange.
I've done aarti hundreds of times. Mechanically. Out of duty. Tradition. Ritual.
But this?
This felt... real.
And that scared me.
Because nothing about her should feel like home. Nothing about her should make my chest tighten or my mind quiet down.
But it did.
And I hated it.
Because losing control was not in my nature.
I don't lose control. I don't get affected.
But Aadhya...
She made me feel things I wasn't meant to feel.
Not after everything I've buried. Not after what I've done.Not after what I've become.
And as I stood beside her, her bangles lightly clinking with every movement, her face glowing in the firelight- a storm stirred inside me. One I couldn't name. One I wasn't ready for.
But deep down, one I knew would burn through everything if I let it.
"Aadhya beta, you do the tilak of Ayansh."
Dadi's voice cut through me like a blade.
What?
I turned, eyebrows furrowed.
Her? She was going to do my tilak?
This wasn't just ritual. It was personal. Tilak meant respect, protection, reverence.
Why her?
I should've said no.
But then... she turned to me.
Eyes hesitant. Voice softer than I'd ever heard.
"Should I...?"
It wasn't the fire I was used to. It was quiet. Almost unsure. That vulnerability-it slipped past my defenses like a thief in the night.
Before I could even process it, I nodded-before my mind could catch up. Instinct. Not logic. Never logic with her.
What the hell was I doing?
I didn't blink.
Didn't breathe.
And then she stepped closer. Raised her hand.
Her fingertips brushed my forehead. Warm. Careful. Light. Our eyes locked.
And in that one, unguarded moment-I saw something in her gaze. Strength, yes. But softness too. A softness she'd never shown me before.
The rice grains touched my skin. The sandal paste cooled my forehead.
The air felt heavier. Thicker. The silence between us louder than any chant echoing through the hall.
Something in me shifted. And I hated that I didn't want to stop it.
And when she tried to turn away- I moved.
She was chaos.
But maybe... she was my kind of chaos.
My hand closed around her wrist. She gasped, startled, eyes flashing with that familiar storm.
But I didn't let go.
I leaned in, voice low and lethal. "Everything with you is war, Miss Raichand." A pause.
"A fight I didn't start... but one I don't mind finishing."
She glared. "What's your point?"
I dipped my fingers into the kumkum- slow, deliberate.
My way. My rules.
"You marked me."I stepped forward. "Now it's my turn."
She froze.
And I placed the tilak on her forehead. Slow. Controlled. Intimate. My thumb lingered longer than it should have.
Her breath hitched. Her eyes didn't leave mine.
Confusion. Anger. Something else. A pulse. A tremor.
The same electricity I'd felt the first time she screamed at me. I didn't look away. Didn't smile. I just whispered, "Now we're even, Miss Angry Bird."
But the truth?
Even this... wasn't enough.
Not yet.
Because something about her made me want more.
More fire.
More defiance.
More her.
And that's the most dangerous thing of all.
β½βββββββββββββ§βββββββββββββ½
Thank you for staying with me through Chapter 2.
What did you feel while reading? Did something stay with you?
I'm always waiting to read your thoughts. Let's talk in the comments.
Until Chapter 3... stay close. The story is just beginning.
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see you soon π.
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