Reyna :-
The gates of the Rathore mansion slid open with a familiar hum, the kind that usually made me feel safe.
Tonight, it didn't.
Rohan parked the car inside after dropping Maya home. The silence between us felt heavier than the Mumbai humidity clinging to my skin. My anger from the club hadn't faded- it had only settled deeper, turning into something restless and sharp.
Rohan cut the engine and turned toward me.
"Reyna," he said softly, studying my face the way he always did when he knew I was hiding something. "What night was he talking about?"
My stomach tightened.
I looked away, fixing my gaze on the windshield, on the reflection of the mansion lights. Advik's words echoed in my head- twisting, accusing, knowing.
"What night?" I scoffed lightly, forcing a careless laugh. "He's crazy. That's what happens when ego meets alcohol."
Rohan frowned. "He sounded... sure."
I swallowed.
Think fast. Lie faster.
"He probably mixed me up with someone else," I said, shrugging. "You know these mafia men. Always assuming every girl revolves around them."
It wasn't my best lie.
But Rohan didn't push.
He never did.
He sighed, leaned back in his seat, and nodded. "If you say so. I trust you."
The words landed heavy in my chest.
Trust.
Something I didn't deserve tonight.
I turned toward him, trying to smile. "Come inside for a bit?"
He raised an eyebrow. "It's late, Reyna. Your parents..."
"They won't mind," I interrupted quickly. "You've been here a hundred times. Plus..." I tilted my head, softening my voice, "I don't want to be alone right now."
He hesitated.
I knew that look. Rohan gupta- kind, decent, painfully normal in a world of monsters. He never crossed lines unless invited. Never overstayed unless begged.
So I did.
I reached for his arm, lightly at first. "Please?"
He exhaled, defeated. "You're impossible."
A small, genuine smile tugged at my lips for the first time that night.
Inside, the mansion was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of silence that echoed with things unsaid and decisions made without consent.
As we walked upstairs, my steps slowed instinctively near Ira's room.
I stopped.
Rohan noticed. "What's wrong?"
"I just..." I said quietly, reaching for the door.
I pushed it open just enough to peek inside.
Ira lay curled on her side, hair spread across the pillow, her face streaked faintly with dried tears. Even in sleep, her brows were drawn together, like she was fighting something even in her dreams.
My chest ached.
Rohan stood beside me, his expression softening instantly when he saw her. He didn't say anything. He didn't need to.
I closed the door gently.
"She didn't deserve this," I whispered, more to myself than to him.
Rohan nodded once. "No. She didn't."
We continued down the corridor to my room.
As soon as the door closed behind us, the weight I'd been carrying finally cracked.
I sank onto the edge of my bed, exhaustion washing over me all at once. The anger. The guilt. The fear. The lies.
Rohan stayed standing for a moment, unsure, then sat beside me- close enough to comfort, far enough to respect.
"You don't have to tell me everything," he said quietly. "But you don't have to carry it alone either."
I stared at the floor, my hands twisting in my lap. I had just lied to the one person who trusted me blindly.
And yet, sitting there beside him, all I could think about was Ira's sleeping face and the storm I was about to unleash to protect her.
No matter the cost.
He just shifted a little closer, close enough that I could feel the warmth of him beside me, close enough that I didn't feel alone anymore. The room was quiet- too quiet but his presence softened it, like the silence finally had somewhere safe to rest.
"You know," he said gently after a moment, "you don't always have to be the strong one."
I let out a small, humorless laugh. "If I stop being strong, everything falls apart."
He turned toward me fully now, his knee brushing mine. "No," he said firmly. "If you stop being strong, you lean. And that's allowed."
I looked at him then. Really looked.
His expression wasn't teasing or casual like usual. It was serious, warm, almost protective in a way that made my chest ache.
"You've been carrying everyone on your shoulders," he continued softly. "Ira. Your family. This whole mess. Anyone would break under that weight."
My voice came out fragile. "But I can't afford to break."
Rohan reached out slowly, like he was giving me time to pull away if I wanted to. When I didn't, his fingers wrapped around mine- secure, grounding.
"Then don't break," he said. "Just... breathe. I'm here."
That simple sentence did something to me.
I stared at our joined hands, at how naturally they fit together, and felt my throat tighten.
"You really think the plan will work?" I asked quietly. "What if something goes wrong? What if.."
He squeezed my hand once, cutting me off. "Hey. No what-ifs tonight."
I met his eyes again.
"We've thought this through," he said. "And even if something unexpected happens, we'll handle it. Together. You're not doing this alone, Reyna. Not anymore and if anything bad ever comes your way," he added quietly, "I'll take it on myself. I won't let it reach you.""
The way he said my name- slow, deliberate -sent a strange warmth through me.
I nodded, blinking rapidly. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
A small smile curved his lips. "Probably still survive," he said lightly. "But it'd be way less fun."
That earned a soft laugh from me, the first genuine one in days.
He glanced at the door, then back at me. "You should rest. You look exhausted."
He stood up reluctantly, like leaving was the last thing he wanted to do. "Try to sleep, okay?"
As he turned away, panic flared unexpectedly in my chest.
"Rohan."
He stopped instantly.
I stood up and crossed the distance between us before my mind could overthink it. I hugged him- harder than I meant to-my arms wrapping around his torso like he was the only steady thing left in my world.
For a heartbeat, he was still.
Then his arms came around me.
Not rushed. Not hesitant.
Just... right.
One hand rested on my back, the other near my shoulder, holding me like he understood exactly how much I needed it.
I breathed him in, my voice barely a whisper. "You're the only one I trust."
His grip tightened, just slightly. "Then I won't let you fall."
I pulled back enough to look at him. "Thank you," I said softly. "For staying. For not asking questions. For choosing me."
He smiled—gentle, sincere. "There's no choosing," he replied. "You're my person. That's all."
My heart skipped.
"No formalities between best friends," he added, trying to lighten the moment.
But the way his thumb brushed absentmindedly against my arm, the way our eyes lingered on each other a second too long-
it didn't feel entirely platonic anymore.
And as I hugged him once more, resting my forehead briefly against his chest, a quiet realization settled inside me:
Some bonds don't announce themselves loudly.
They grow quietly, steadily-
until one day, you realize they're deeper than anything you ever named.
Soulmates aren't always lovers. Sometimes, they're the ones who feel like home before you even know you were searching for it.
I was still wrapped in Rohan's arms when I heard it.
A very unnecessary, very dramatic cough.
I stiffened.
Rohan did too.
"Wow," a familiar voice said from the doorway. "Am I interrupting something or should I come back with popcorn?"
I pulled away instantly, my heart jumping straight into my throat.
It was Aarav. Of course.
I turned to him, mortified. "Aarav! What are you doing here?"
He leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, a wicked grin plastered on his face. "Relax, relax. I was just checking if my little sister was alive. Didn't expect to find her in a full-on Karan Johar climax scene."
"Oh my God, shut up," I snapped, my cheeks burning.
Rohan cleared his throat, suddenly very interested in the floor. "It's not- "
"Oh, I know what it is," Aarav cut him off cheerfully. His eyes flicked between us. "Best friend hugs. Very intense. Very emotional. Very... close."
I groaned. "Aarav, if you say one more word, I swear I will...."
He raised his hands in surrender but didn't wipe the smile off his face. "Okay, okay. I'm just saying- Rohan bhaiya, you've got guts. Hugging my sister in the Rathore mansion? Respect."
Rohan finally looked up, half amused, half awkward. "She needed comfort."
Aarav nodded thoughtfully. "Hmm. Yeah, she does. She's been cranky lately."
"Excuse me?" I shot him a glare.
He smirked. "See? Cranky."
I grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. "Get out of my room!"
He dodged it easily, laughing. "Fine, fine. I'll go. But," he pointed at Rohan dramatically, "I'm watching you."
Rohan chuckled. "Fair enough."
Then, to my complete shock, Rohan turned serious and looked at Aarav. "Make sure she eats something and actually sleeps. She hasn't been taking care of herself."
Aarav blinked, surprised for a second, then nodded. "Don't worry. I've got her."
Rohan looked at me one last time, his eyes soft. "Get some rest, okay?"
I nodded. "You too. And... thank you."
He smiled gently, then stepped past Aarav toward the door.
As he left, Aarav watched him go, then turned back to me with an exaggerated sigh.
"So," he said. "When were you planning to tell me you've got a heroic best friend with protective instincts?"
I groaned, collapsing onto my bed. "Aarav, I do not like him like that."
He raised an eyebrow. "Sure. And I'm Shah Rukh Khan."
I grabbed another pillow and threw it at him as he laughed and walked out.
But as the door closed and the room went quiet again, my chest felt... lighter.
For the first time in days, I felt safe.
And maybe- just maybe- not as alone as I thought.
Advik :-
The farmhouse had never felt this suffocating before.
It was supposed to be my escape- away from Delhi, away from expectations, away from people who constantly reminded me who I was supposed to be. Tonight, it felt like a cage. Every corner echoed with silence, thick and heavy, pressing down on my chest until breathing felt like effort.
I stood near the floor-to-ceiling glass wall, staring out at the dark lawn. The lights outside blurred into soft yellow smudges, but my reflection was painfully clear.
Tired eyes.
Clenched jaw.
A man pretending he didn't care.
My phone lay on the table behind me. I hadn't touched it in hours, yet my mind kept replaying the same scene like a cruel loop.
The club.
The noise. The lights.
And Reyna.
Her laughter-free, careless.
The way she leaned into him.
The way his hands rested on her waist like they belonged there.
My fingers curled slowly.
That boy.
Rohan.
Normal name. Normal life. Normal smile.
Everything I wasn't.
Rudra's mocking voice echoed in my head.
"Look, your sister-in-law is enjoying with her boyfriend."
Boyfriend.
I let out a sharp breath, my chest tightening unexpectedly.
Why did that word sting?
She wasn't mine.
She never had been.
She never would be.
And yet-
The memory of her lips inches away from his burned behind my eyes. The way she hadn't pushed him away. The way the world around them had disappeared.
Just like it had disappeared for us that night.
My jaw clenched harder.
Fuck.
I grabbed the glass from the table, the amber liquid sloshing dangerously inside. I didn't even realize how tightly I was holding it until the glass cracked under my grip.
Before I could stop myself, I hurled it against the wall.
The sound of shattering glass sliced through the silence.
Shards scattered across the floor like broken thoughts.
I stood there, chest rising and falling, knuckles white, pulse roaring in my ears.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" I muttered to myself.
Why did it matter who she danced with?
Why did it feel like betrayal when she smiled at someone else?
This marriage meant nothing to me. I had said it myself.
So why did the idea of Reyna with another man make my blood boil?
A knock interrupted my spiral.
Once.
Twice.
I didn't respond.
The door opened anyway.
Kabir chachu stepped inside, his presence calm, controlled-annoyingly composed compared to the storm raging inside me. His gaze briefly flicked to the broken glass, then back to me.
"Advik," Kabir chachu's voice followed. Calm. Controlled. As always. "Where were you for the last two days?"
I scoffed softly. "Out."
"That's not an answer," he said, stepping inside.
I turned then, eyes cold. "I didn't know I needed to give you a report."
Kabir studied me for a second-really studied me. Then his gaze softened, but only on the surface.
I said, irritation flaring. "Why do you care? Since when do I need to report my whereabouts?"
Kabir sighed. "Since you're about to get married."
There it was.
The trigger.
"I told you," I snapped, "this marriage means nothing to me."
Kabir's eyes hardened slightly. "You can keep lying to yourself, Advik, but don't lie to me."
"You said yes to the marriage," he said slowly. "And then you disappeared. Do you think responsibility works like that?"
I laughed, sharp and humorless. "Responsibility?"
I stepped closer. "You want to talk about responsibility now?"
Kabir frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I said yes because it benefits us," I snapped. "Because it gives me power. Because it gives this family Mumbai. Don't dress it up like some emotional sacrifice."
Kabir's eyes darkened. "So you admit it. You agreed out of greed."
"Yes," I shot back without hesitation. "Because that's how this world works. That's how you taught me."
"You think I don't know what you all are doing?" I shot back. "You're using this marriage to chain me down. To control me."
Kabir stepped closer, his voice lowering. "We're trying to protect you."
"By forcing me into a marriage I don't want?"
Silence stretched between us, thick with unspoken truths.
Kabir finally spoke, softer now. "I know you're angry."
I laughed, hollow and sharp. "Angry? No. I'm just tired. Tired of being told who to marry, how to live, when to breathe."
He placed a hand on my shoulder.
I shrugged it off immediately. "Don't."
Silence fell between us, heavy and dangerous.
Kabir exhaled slowly. "And do you know what your grandfather would've said if he heard this?"
That hit. Harder than I expected.
I looked away.
"Don't," I muttered.
"He built this empire with blood and discipline," Kabir continued quietly. "Not recklessness. Not confusion. And certainly not letting emotions rule decisions."
My chest tightened.
"He wanted you to take over one day," Kabir said, voice lower now. "He believed you had the fire to lead. Do you want him remembered as a man whose grandson ran away from responsibility?"
I clenched my fists.
"Don't use him against me," I said hoarsely.
Kabir stepped closer. "I'm not using him. I'm reminding you."
For a moment, I couldn't breathe properly.
I remembered my grandfather's voice.
His hand on my shoulder.
Power demands sacrifice, Advik.
My throat burned.
Kabir again placed a hand on my shoulder, firm but grounding. "You're not weak for feeling conflicted," he said. "But you don't get to abandon the path once you've chosen it."
I closed my eyes for a second.
When I opened them, the anger was still there but buried under something heavier.
Resignation.
Kabir gave a small nod, like he'd won something invisible. "Day after tomorrow," he said gently, "we leave for Udaipur."
I looked at him. "Why?"
"Udaipur?" I repeated.
"Yes," he continued. "Destination wedding. Everything's finalized."
My stomach dropped.
Two days.
That was it.
No escape.
No delay.
No choice.
Kabir watched me carefully. "Whether you like it or not, Advik, this is happening."
I turned back toward the glass wall, my reflection now fractured by the broken shards behind me.
Udaipur.
Marriage.
Chains disguised as celebration.
Kabir squeezed my shoulder once more. "Get some rest," he said. "You'll need clarity from now on."
He turned and left.
The door closed behind him with a soft click.
I stayed where I was, staring at nothing.
Greed had made me say yes.
Power had kept me silent.
But jealousy-
Jealousy was what was tearing me apart.
And I didn't know how long I could keep pretending this marriage meant nothing...
Reyna's face flashed in my mind again- defiant, angry, laughing with someone else.
My fists clenched.
If this was my fate, then fine.
But I wouldn't walk into it blind.
And if Reyna thought she could play games-
so could I.
The silence of the farmhouse closed in again, but this time, it carried a promise.
This wedding wasn't just a ceremony.
It was the beginning of a war.