Reyna :-
The car slowed in front of the Rathore mansion, but my mind was still miles away. College felt like a blur- laughs that didn't reach my chest, lectures that passed without meaning. Everything inside me was heavy, tangled, restless.
As soon as I stepped inside the house, my phone vibrated.
Rohan:
Did you talk to them?
I leaned against the cold marble wall, staring at his message.
Me:
Not yet.
Three dots appeared almost instantly.
Rohan:
Reyna... you can't keep avoiding this. Go talk to your parents. You deserve answers.
I closed my eyes.
You deserve answers.
The words echoed.
I took a deep breath and started walking- slowly, deliberately- toward my parents' room. Every step felt like I was walking into a storm.
The door was half open.
Inside, Aarav sat on the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, head bowed. Maa stood near the window, her back stiff, hands clenched tightly in front of her.
They were already talking.
I knocked softly.
Maa turned immediately. Her expression changed the moment she saw me.
"Reyna beta," she said gently. "Come in."
She sat down on the bed and patted the space beside her. "Come, sit."
I obeyed, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure they could hear it.
"Maa..." I began, my voice trembling despite my effort to sound calm. "I need to ask you something."
Maa nodded, though her eyes looked tired. "Ask."
The dam broke.
"Why are you doing this to Ira di?" I asked, my words rushing out. "Why are you marrying her into a mafia family- another cage- when you know how much she hates this life?"
Aarav looked up sharply.
"Maa, she loves someone else," I continued. "He's a good man. At least talk to him once. For Ira di's happiness. Just once."
My throat burned.
"Have you even seen her today?" I asked. "She hasn't come out of her room. She didn't eat. She didn't talk to anyone. She's breaking, Maa."
Devika's lips trembled.
"And yesterday..." My voice cracked. "You slapped her. So hard. She didn't deserve that. She's your daughter."
Tears spilled from my eyes before I could stop them.
"You should apologize to her," I whispered. "Please."
Silence swallowed the room.
Then I saw it.
Maa's eyes filled- slowly, painfully with tears.
My heart dropped.
She had always been strong. Controlled. Unshakeable.
Seeing her like this scared me more than any gun ever had.
"Reyna beta..." she said softly, her voice breaking. "Do you really think I would throw my daughter into a well with no bottom... without a reason?"
I shook my head, unable to speak.
"If it were in my hands," she continued, tears rolling freely now, "I would rather die than do this to Ira."
Aarav's voice trembled. "Then why, Mumma? Tell us."
Devika took a shaky breath.
"We are under attack."
The words felt unreal.
"What?" I whispered.
"The other mafia group in Mumbai," she said. "They've been planning something for months."
She looked at me, her eyes filled with fear I'd never seen before.
"They tried to kill your father. They tried to shoot your dad," she said, her voice shaking. "During a meeting."
I froze.
"What..."
"One of our most loyal bodyguards took the bullet instead," she said softly. "He died saving your father."
The room spun.
"We are being followed every day," Devika added. "Watched. Tracked."
My mind flashed instantly to the black car.
"One of our most loyal bodyguards pushed your father away," she whispered. "He took the bullet."
Her voice cracked completely.
"He died, Reyna."
My breath left my lungs in a sob.
"We are being followed every day," Devika said. "Watched. Tracked."
A memory hit me like a slap.
The black car.
Outside our house.
Near college.
On roads I took daily.
"I thought..." I whispered. "I thought I was imagining it."
Devika shook her head slowly. "You weren't."
She wiped her tears and held my face in her hands.
"Only the Raichands can protect us now," she said. "When your father spoke to Kabir and Shamsher Raichand for help... they agreed."
Hope flared- then died.
"But they demanded something in return."
My chest tightened.
"They want Advik to be the next heir," Devika continued. "Shamsher believes marriage will make him responsible. Stable. Ruthless."
She swallowed hard.
"So they demanded an alliance."
Aarav clenched his fists. "So you're sacrificing Ira di?"
Devika broke down completely.
"Yes," she sobbed. "I am sacrificing my daughter to save my family."
I hugged her tightly as she cried into my shoulder.
Aarav wrapped his arms around both of us. "Don't worry, Maa," he said fiercely. "We're with you. Reyna, me, Papa- we'll fight this together. Nothing will happen to us."
I held her, but inside me, something dark and furious was awakening.
Because now I knew the truth.
This wasn't a marriage. It was a war and my sister was being sent into it as a shield.
Maa pulled back slowly, wiping her tears as if reminding herself she still had to be strong.
"Listen to me," she said, her voice suddenly firm. "What I told you both today- this stays between us."
Aarav frowned. "Maa..."
"No," she cut him off gently but decisively. "Ira must not know. Not now. Not ever, if possible."
My heart clenched. "But Maa... she deserves to know the truth."
Maa shook her head, pain flickering across her face. "If she knows, it will break her even more. She's already drowning, Reyna. This truth will only pull her under."
She took a deep breath, then added softly, almost like she was trying to convince herself, "And Advik... he will be a good husband."
The words hit me like a slap.
"I saw it," Devika continued, her voice almost hopeful now. "On the roka day. When he was sitting beside Ira. There was something soft in his eyes. Something steady. I believe he will take care of her."
I went still.
Soft.
My fingers curled into my palms.
If only you knew, Maa, I thought bitterly.
That softness wasn't for Ira.
It wasn't born from responsibility or destiny or some divine match written in the stars.
It was because of me.
Because of the locked room.
The stolen breath.
The kiss he shouldn't have taken and the pull neither of us could deny.
I swallowed hard, forcing my face to stay neutral.
A man like Advik Raichand, I thought, anger simmering beneath my skin, who plays with emotions, who crosses lines and then hides behind duty...
He can never be a good husband.
Not to Ira.
Not to anyone.
Devika reached for my hand. "Please, Reyna. Be strong for your sister. Help her. Protect her."
I nodded slowly, even as something inside me hardened.
I will protect her, I vowed silently.
Even if I have to protect her from the very man fate is forcing into her life.
.
NEXT DAY...
The college canteen smelled like over-fried samosas and bad decisions. Someone was laughing too loudly near the juice counter, and a group of juniors kept sneaking glances at us like we were some kind of campus celebrities.
I stabbed my straw into the cold coffee a little too aggressively.
"They're discussing it like it's some Netflix wedding special," Maya muttered. "Raichand–Rathore alliance. Guns. Gold. Drama. People are literally taking bets on how grand the lehenga will be."
I scoffed. "Great. While they're fantasizing about outfits, my sister's being sent to a slaughterhouse."
Rohan nearly choked on his burger. "Whoa. Dark. But... accurate."
"I'm serious," I snapped. "I don't want my sister traded like a contract. I want her alive. Happy. With the man she loves- not locked in a mansion with a mafia heir who looks like he'd solve arguments with bullets."
Maya nodded solemnly. "Valid. Very valid trauma."
Then she tilted her head and said, deadpan,
"So... let's murder Advik Raichand."
I blinked. "Excuse me?"
Rohan grinned. "Bold opener."
"No!" I hissed. "We are not killing anyone. I don't want jail, blood, or a Netflix documentary titled 'The Rathore Daughter Who Snapped.'"
Maya shrugged. "Worth a thought."
I groaned. "I need a clean solution. No bloodshed. No death. Just- escape. Ira di needs to be free."
Rohan leaned back dramatically, crossing his arms like a villain about to monologue.
"You mentioned your family is under attack, right?"
"Yes," I said cautiously.
"What if," he said slowly, eyes lighting up, "the wedding day becomes... chaotic?"
My heart dropped. "Absolutely not. I'm not planning an attack on my own family."
"Relax, Miss Gun Range," he waved me off. "Not a real one."
Maya snapped her fingers. "Fake attack."
I stared at them. "Both of you need therapy."
"Think about it," Rohan continued. "Two or three fake gunshots. Screaming. Security going mad. Aunties fainting. Pandit ji dropping his thali...."
Maya giggled. "Iconic."
"In that mess," Rohan said, pointing at me, "you grab Ira and vanish."
My brain screamed no while my heart whispered what if.
"But these are real mafias," I argued. "Real guns. Real psychos."
Rohan smirked. "Lucky for you, I know actors. Very dramatic ones. Did background work in films. Fake blood. Fake fear. Full performance."
Maya clapped. "Oh my God, I love theatre kids."
I rubbed my temples. "This is insane."
"But effective," Maya said sweetly. "Also, imagine the headlines: 'Wedding Cancelled Due to Sudden Chaos.' Very classy."
"And Ira walks free," Rohan added softly.
That image hit me like a punch.
Ira laughing again.
Ira choosing her own life.
"What if it fails?" I whispered.
Rohan leaned forward. "Then we improvise. Like every exam we ever passed."
Maya grinned. "Worst case scenario-we run. I already have a fake name picked."
I snorted despite myself. "Of course you do."
She shrugged. "You never know."
The noise of the canteen faded again. All I could hear was my heartbeat and the echo of my sister's silent tears.
I looked at them. At my chaos-loving, reckless, loyal idiots.
"Okay," I said slowly. "We do it."
Maya gasped dramatically. "Operation Wedding Disaster is officially on."
Rohan raised his juice like a toast. "To fake bullets and real freedom."
I clinked my cup against his.
And somewhere deep inside me, I felt it-
the moment fate leaned in closer...
grinning like it knew exactly how this would end.
After coming home, I was in my room.
My room was unusually quiet for a Rathore house that thrived on chaos. Ira di hadn't come out since morning, Maa was pretending everything was normal, and Papa was locked in meetings like bullets weren't hovering over our lives.
I lay flat on my bed, phone hovering above my face, staring at the ceiling fan like it might magically solve my problems.
Spoiler: it didn't.
So I did the most dangerous thing possible.
I opened our group chat.
"The Unstable Trio 💀🔥"
Yes. Maya had named it.
No regrets.
I typed.
Reyna:
So... what's the plan?
Have you found anyone for the fake attack or were you just high on canteen samosas yesterday?
Three dots appeared almost instantly.
Of course.
Rohan:
Excuse you. My genius works faster than your overthinking.
And yes, I've found someone.
I sat up straight.
Reyna:
Wait- seriously?
Rohan:
Very seriously, Miss Mafia Princess.
He'll come with 5–6 other guys. Proper setup. Proper noise.
It'll look REAL real.
I could practically hear Maya gasping through the screen.
Maya:
OH MY GOD.
So this is actually happening?
We're really executing the plan?
My heart started pounding. This was no longer some half-baked joke.
Rohan:
Correction.
MY plan.😎
There it was.
The ego.
Maya:
🙄
Reyna:
🙄🙄
Maya:
Pendu.
One more word and I'll leak your childhood dance videos.
Rohan:
Low blow. Very low.
I rubbed my forehead, trying to bring the conversation back before Maya actually did something unhinged.
Reyna:
Okay, mastermind.
Tell me what I need to do next.
There was a pause.
Longer this time.
Then-
Rohan:
Small issue.
He's asking for advance money.
I didn't even blink.
Reyna:
How much?
Rohan:
Enough to make you sigh but not enough to bankrupt Rathore Industries.
I smirked despite myself.
Reyna:
Don't worry about it.
I'll handle the money.
Maya instantly jumped in.
Maya:
Of course you will.
Because rich trauma comes with rich solutions.
Reyna:
Shut up.
Rohan:
Okay, but listen carefully now.
No one else can know about this.
Not a soul.
And after this conversation- delete the chats.
My fingers tightened around the phone.
Reyna:
Agreed.👍
Maya:
Already paranoid.
Love this era for us.
Rohan:
I'm serious.
Phones are risky.
Chats are risky.
From now on, we only talk in person about this.
For once, none of us joked.
I typed slowly.
Reyna:
Okay.
Maya:
Okay.
A strange silence followed, heavy with the weight of what we were planning.
Then Maya, being Maya, broke it.
Maya:
Just saying- if we survive this,
we deserve a vacation.
Somewhere without guns or pandits.
Rohan:
Agreed.
Maybe Goa.
If we're not dead or jailed.
I huffed a laugh.
Reyna:
First we save my sister.
Then we plan vacations.
Rohan:
Deal.
I glanced at the clock.
Time was ticking.
The wedding was getting closer.
And fate-cruel, twisted fate was watching us play chess with loaded guns.
Reyna:
We'll talk tomorrow in the canteen.
Decide where and when I meet him.
Maya:
Copy that, future criminal mastermind.
Rohan:
Good.
Now delete the chat after this.
Reyna:
Already on it.
Maya:
Bye, idiots.
And Reyna- don't chicken out.
I stared at the screen for a moment longer before typing the last message.
Reyna:
I won't.
For Ira... I'll burn the world if I have to.
Seen.
Seen.
Then-
the chat disappeared.
I dropped my phone on the bed, heart racing.
This wasn't a joke anymore.
This wasn't a plan scribbled between lectures.
This was war.
And I had just taken the first step-
against fate, against mafias,
and unknowingly...
against Advik Raichand himself. 🔥🖤
.
Raichand house, Delhi
The Raichand house in Delhi breathed power.
Not warmth.
Not comfort.
Power.
The kind that settled into the walls after decades of blood, betrayal, and ambition.
Shamsher Raichand stood near the tall glass windows, his hands clasped behind his back, gazing at the city lights below as if Delhi itself bowed to him. The reflection in the glass showed a man untouched by age-his eyes still sharp, calculating, burning with the same hunger that had built this empire from dust.
Behind him, Kabir Raichand poured himself another drink, the ice clinking softly in the silence.
Kabir chuckled, breaking the silence.
"Papa," he said, shaking his head in amusement, "your plan was absolutely top-notch."
Shamsher smiled.
Not the warm kind.
The kind that came from winning wars without firing a bullet.
"Beta," Shamsher said calmly, his voice heavy with authority,
"I didn't build the Raichand empire by accident."
He leaned forward slightly, fingers tapping the armrest.
"I've made sacrifices you can't even imagine," he continued in English, his tone turning colder.
"People, emotions, morals-everything was left behind on the way to power."
Kabir nodded, admiration clear in his eyes and broke into a satisfied laugh.
"You should have seen Rajveer's face, Papa."
Shamsher didn't turn.
"He was terrified," Kabir continued in English, leaning against the table.
"Completely shaken. For the first time in his life, Rajveer Rathore realized he is not untouchable."
A slow smile curved Shamsher's lips.
"That fear," he said calmly,
"is exactly what I wanted."
Kabir raised his glass in mock salute.
"He's begging for protection now. Talking about security. Family safety. His daughters."
Kabir chuckled.
"The great Rathore lion has turned into a scared animal."
Shamsher finally turned around.
"You know why fear works better than bullets, Kabir?" he asked.
Kabir smirked. "Because fear stays longer."
Shamsher nodded.
"And because," he added, voice turning colder,
"fear makes men surrender without a fight."
Kabir's eyes gleamed.
"That shot at Rajveer," Kabir said casually, as if discussing weather,
"perfect execution. The angle, the timing, the escape route."
Shamsher walked toward the sofa and sat down slowly.
"Of course it was perfect," he said.
"It was planned."
Kabir's smile widened.
"He still thinks some rival gang is after him," Kabir said.
"He doesn't even suspect us."
Shamsher let out a low, humorless chuckle.
"Rajveer was always blinded by pride," he said.
"Just like his father."
The name carried weight.
Kabir straightened slightly. "You still hate him."
"Hate?" Shamsher scoffed softly.
"No, Kabir. I respected him."
His eyes darkened.
"Rajveer's father was the only man who stopped me from taking Mumbai."
Kabir stayed silent, listening.
"For years," Shamsher continued,
"Mumbai's underworld slipped through my fingers because of him. He was smart. Ruthless. Strategic."
Shamsher's jaw tightened.
"But fate finally did what bullets couldn't."
Kabir nodded. "He died two years ago."
"And the moment he did," Shamsher said, leaning forward,
"I knew my time had come."
Kabir took a slow sip of his drink.
"Rajveer doesn't have his father's spine," Kabir said.
"He has power, yes-but no vision."
"And no patience," Shamsher added.
Kabir laughed.
"So we created the perfect illusion."
He raised his glass again.
"A fake attack. Controlled chaos. Enough blood to scare him... not enough to kill."
Shamsher's gaze sharpened.
"The moment he believed his family was in danger," Shamsher said,
"he walked straight into my trap."
Kabir smiled.
"And agreed to the marriage."
"This marriage," Shamsher said slowly, each word weighed and measured,
"is not an alliance."
The room seemed to shrink around them.
Kabir's lips curved into a smile that held no warmth.
"It's a move."
Shamsher's gaze sharpened, cutting through the air like a blade.
"A trap," he corrected.
Kabir nodded, swirling the whiskey in his glass.
"Using Advik to gain the Rathores' trust."
"And using the Rathores to shape Advik," Shamsher replied calmly.
Kabir tilted his head, studying his father's face.
"Do you really think Advik can handle this kind of responsibility?"
For the first time that night, something shifted in Shamsher's eyes.
Not doubt.
Recognition.
"He has fire," Shamsher said quietly.
"The same fire I had when I was his age."
Kabir exhaled slowly.
"That fire also makes him reckless."
Shamsher leaned back, fingers interlocking.
"Fire is dangerous only when it's free," he said.
"Marriage is a leash."
Kabir let out a short laugh.
"So you're sacrificing your own grandson."
Shamsher's gaze snapped to him- hard, unforgiving.
"I am forging him," he said sharply.
"There is a difference."
Silence followed.
Thick. Heavy. Final.
Kabir broke it carefully.
"And Ira?"
Shamsher waved his hand as if dismissing a minor inconvenience.
"She's collateral."
Kabir's brow lifted.
"And Rajveer's other children?"
Shamsher's eyes turned glacial.
"They are obstacles."
A chill ran through Kabir, but he said nothing. He had grown up around this man. He knew better than to challenge decisions already carved in stone.
"So this is the endgame?" Kabir asked finally.
"Marriage, trust, power?"
Shamsher shook his head slowly.
"No."
Kabir leaned forward.
"Then what?"
"This," Shamsher said quietly,
"is only the setup."
Kabir's grip tightened on his glass.
"After that?"
Shamsher's voice dropped.
"After the marriage," he said, "the Rathores will have to be eliminated."
Kabir froze. "You mean-"
"Yes," Shamsher interrupted calmly. "Rajveer. His wife. His son and younger daughter."
Kabir swallowed.
"And Ira?"
Shamsher smiled.
Not kindly.
Not proudly.
"She lives. The only Rathore left standing."
Kabir's breath slowed as the pieces locked into place.
"So, all Rathore power," he said carefully,
"passes to her."
Shamsher nodded once.
"And when she is Advik's wife," he added,
"everything becomes ours."
Kabir let out a low laugh.
"One stone."
"Two birds," Shamsher finished.
Kabir leaned back, admiration undisguised.
"You're ruthless, Papa."
Shamsher's expression didn't change.
"I am necessary."
Kabir hesitated before asking the question that had been gnawing at him.
"And if Advik refuses?"
Shamsher stood up slowly, towering over the room.
"He won't."
Kabir frowned.
"And if he loves someone else?"
Shamsher paused.
For a heartbeat, the city lights reflected in his eyes like distant fires.
"Love," he said quietly,
"has never survived power."
Kabir nodded, accepting the truth as it was meant to be accepted.
Outside, Delhi slept peacefully.
Inside, destinies were being rewritten.
Shamsher picked up his cane and turned toward Kabir.
"Tomorrow morning," he said, voice turning purely business,
"take the first flight to Mumbai."
Kabir straightened instantly.
"To meet them?"
"Yes," Shamsher replied.
"One of the attacker."
He fixed Kabir with a warning stare.
"Give him the advance money. Enough to keep him loyal, not enough to make him greedy."
Kabir nodded.
"And the details?"
"The location and venue will be sent in a few days," Shamsher said.
"When everything is perfectly aligned."
He took a step closer to Kabir.
"And make one thing very clear," Shamsher added coldly.
"No Raichand blood is to be spilled."
Kabir's jaw tightened.
"If they touch even one of our men," Shamsher continued,
"it will be their last attack."
Kabir inclined his head.
"I'll handle it."
Shamsher turned back toward the window, the city bowing beneath his shadow.
Somewhere far away, unaware of the storm being engineered-
Advik Raichand believed he was choosing duty.
Reyna Rathore believed she was choosing rebellion.
Neither knew that the game had already been decided.
And this time, fate was not watching.
It was participating. 🖤🔥
.
.
👉 "Comment your reason 👀👇"