As they emerged from the jungle path onto the lonely road, Yuvaan raised his hand. Shadows rippled along the ground, swirling into form until a sleek black car materialized before them — its surface glinting under the moonlight like obsidian.
Kiara took a hesitant step forward, but winced sharply. "Ah—" She stumbled slightly, clutching her ankle. Yuvaan's eyes darted down; a thorn, long and jagged, had lodged itself deep into her foot.
"Kiara," he said, his tone instantly shifting from composed arrogance to alarm.
"I'm fine," she snapped, limping back. "Don't touch me."
But he ignored her, his expression tightening with frustration. "Stop being stubborn." He knelt swiftly before she could retreat and held her ankle, his grip firm but careful.
"Let go—" she began, but her breath caught as he pulled the thorn out in one swift motion. The pain made her clutch his shoulder, nails digging into him as tears pricked her eyes.
For a fleeting second, they were frozen — his head bowed near her knee, her fingers trembling on his shoulder. The closeness burned with unspoken chaos.
Then, a faint glow shimmered from his palm. Before her eyes, the blood vanished, the wound sealed itself as though it had never existed.
Kiara drew back, her chest heaving. "You healed this wound," she said bitterly, her voice trembling. "But you can't heal the one you've left in my heart."
Yuvaan looked up at her — his crimson eyes flickering with something she couldn't name. Guilt? Pain? Or the illusion of it?
Without another word, he stood, opened the car door for her, and said quietly, "Some wounds are meant to stay… to remind us what we can never undo."
He opened the car door for her, but Kiara stepped past him and sank into the backseat, pulling the door shut with a soft click. Yuvaan slid into the driver's seat, hands steady on the wheel. For a few beats the only sound was the engine waking, then the car eased forward into the wet night.
He glanced at the rearview mirror, meeting her eyes for a moment. "My mother doesn't know the truth about me," he said quietly. "Nor does the rest of the Pratap Singh family. You have to keep that secret."
Kiara's fingers twisted in the edge of her shawl. She swallowed, the careful composure she'd forced on herself cracking at the edges. "I can't refuse," she said, voice small. "I know what's at stake."
"Exactly." He kept his gaze on the road, the headlights carving a pale path through the darkness as the car carried them toward a home that would never be the same.
The car came to a stop before the sprawling Pratap Singh mansion, its marble walls glistening faintly under the silvery moonlight. Kiara's heart thudded as she stared at the towering gates — the home of the man she now called her husband, a title that still felt like a wound.
Before she could take a step across the threshold, Yuvaan caught her wrist gently.
"Not so fast," he said with a teasing calm. "A bride should be welcomed properly… but for that, my sleeping family needs to wake up."
He strolled toward a small podium near the entrance, picked up an announcer, and cleared his throat.
Then, with a smirk curving his lips, his voice thundered through the silent mansion:
"Announcement! Announcement! Let the Pratap Singhs rise from their deep, blissful slumber!"
A series of doors creaked open upstairs. Lights flickered on. Grumbling voices filled the vast corridors as the family began to descend the grand staircase.
Vinod Pratap Singh, Yuvaan's strict uncle, came first, adjusting his robe with irritation. Behind him followed Susheela, his sharp-tongued wife, her expression already sour. Riddhi, their daughter, trailed behind with a sleepy scowl, while Aakash and Angad appeared last, trying to make sense of the midnight commotion.
Vinod frowned deeply. "Yuvaan, have you gone insane? What's this nonsense?"
Susheela glared. "You've disturbed the entire household! What could possibly be so important?"
Yuvaan leaned casually against the banister, mischief dancing in his eyes. "How can the great Pratap Singh family sleep peacefully without performing a welcoming ceremony?"
"Welcoming ceremony?" Susheela snapped. "For whom? You live here! Who else is left to welcome?"
He chuckled softly. "You're right, Chachi. Not for me…"
He gestured toward the doorway. "For her."
Everyone turned toward the threshold — and froze.
There, half-hidden by the shadows of the porch, stood Kiara Shetty, rain-soaked and trembling. Her crimson sindoor glimmered faintly beneath the dim chandelier light.
For a moment, nobody recognized her. Then Angad's eyes widened.
"Kiara?" he breathed.
Riddhi blinked, stunned. "Wait… isn't that Varun Shetty's sister?"
Vinod's face darkened. "Yuvaan, what is this girl doing here?"
Yuvaan descended the last step, his boots clicking against the marble floor. He reached the entrance, took Kiara's hand with deliberate poise, and turned back toward the stunned family.
"Allow me to introduce her properly," he said with a victorious calm.
"Meet my wife — Kiara Pratap Singh."
The words struck like lightning. Gasps filled the hall. Kiara stood frozen beside him, her hand trembling in his, while the Pratap Singh family stared at her as if the ground itself had shifted beneath their feet.
Vinod's face was stormy, his hands clenched at his sides. "Yuvaan… are you trying to ruin our reputation by getting married overnight? If you were so desperate to marry, you could have begged me first! I would have gladly thrown a luxurious party for this occasion."
Susheela's lips twisted into a sharp scowl. "This boy… Yuvaan is not only a curse on this family, he will also ruin our family name!"
Kiara stood quietly, taking in the cold, judgmental stares, the clipped tones, the icy glares. Her chest tightened. This was the other side of Yuvaan — the one she had never seen: the rigid, disapproving, unforgiving Pratap Singh family.
Aakash, unable to hold back, muttered under his breath, "He only knows how to do shameless things…"
Yuvaan's dark eyes glinted, and a slow, amused smirk appeared on his lips. "Of course, I'm not shameless… like all of you," he said effortlessly, his tone icy yet controlled.
Vinod's jaw tightened. "Yuvaan! Mind your tone!"
Yuvaan's smirk deepened, his voice sharp and commanding. "This isn't done. None of you are behaving properly… in front of my wife. And I don't like it."
Angad, sensing the tension and wanting to ease it, stepped forward with a bright smile. "Brother… I mean, Yuvaan, I knew some chemistry was brewing between you two, and honestly… I'm super happy for you both! And…" He turned to Kiara, bowing his head slightly with a teasing grin, "Sister-in-law, welcome home."
Kiara blinked, caught between embarrassment, shock, and the strange comfort of Angad's warmth, and could only stare blankly.
Yuvaan, seeing her hesitation, placed a hand lightly on her back, guiding her forward. "Angad, fetch my mother," he instructed calmly. "It's time she performs the welcoming ritual for her new daughter-in-law."