Reyna :-
The next day arrived faster than I wanted it to.
Too fast.
The Rathore house buzzed with controlled chaos- suitcases being dragged across marble floors, staff rushing around with last-minute instructions, elders discussing rituals, dates, venues, guest lists. Everything sounded distant to me, like I was underwater, hearing the world through muffled echoes.
The wedding was in Udaipur.
Udaipur.
The city of lakes.
The city of palaces.
The city where my sister's fate was being sealed.
The wedding was in Udaipur.
A destination wedding because of course it was.
The Rathores had their ancestral haveli here. A place soaked in history, pride, blood, and legacy. After one long discussion between both families, it was decided that the marriage would happen here itself. Grand. Royal. Untouchable.
Just like the alliance.
Somewhere between packing my clothes and pretending everything was normal, I had made a decision-
I was done.
Done with whatever stupid feelings I had once felt for Advik Raichand.
Done with overthinking his touches, his silences, his anger.
Done with questioning why he did what he did.
Because the truth was brutally simple.
He was going to marry my sister.
And no matter what had happened between us, no matter how confusing or intense it had been, it didn't matter anymore. I had buried all of it. Locked it away. Forced myself to.
At least, that's what I kept telling myself.
Still, the thought of facing him again made irritation crawl under my skin.
Not pain.
Not longing.
Just... annoyance.
Like an old wound you swear has healed but still burns when pressed.
A convoy of luxury cars rolled toward Udaipur, engines humming in perfect sync- power, tradition, and secrets packed inside tinted windows, all heading toward a wedding that felt more like a war in disguise.
I sat by the car window as we drove out, watching Mumbai slowly disappear behind us. Buildings turned into highways, highways into open roads, and with every mile, my chest felt heavier.
I had invited Maya and Rohan.
Maya and her family were travelling with us too. She was practically vibrating with excitement, constantly updating her Instagram story like "Road trip with my bestie, wish me luck". I let her be. At least someone was enjoying this madness.
Rohan wasn't.
That thought pinched somewhere inside me.
He had called me early morning.
"I'll join in two days," he'd said softly. "Dad needs me for something important. I promise, Reyna."
I'd smiled and told him it was okay.
I'd told him not to rush.
But now, staring at the road ahead, I wished he was sitting next to me instead of empty air.
Maya nudged my arm. "Stop zoning out. You look like you're attending a funeral, not a destination wedding."
"Feels like one." I shot her a look, but before I could say anything, she leaned in closer, her voice dropping even more.
"And please," she added urgently, lips barely moving, "pretend to be happy. If you don't want us to get caught and everyone to find out about our plan before this wedding, you need to start acting normal."
Her words hit me like a cold splash of water.
I straightened my shoulders, forced my lips into a smile, and inhaled slowly.
Happy.
Normal.
Wedding guest mode.
I nodded at her slightly. "Got it."
Maya smiled back, satisfied. "Good. Because one suspicious face in this wedding full of mafias and relatives is all it'll take for everything to blow up."
I clenched my jaw, pasted the smile back on my face.
She glanced at me, understanding flickering in her eyes, but she didn't push.
My gaze drifted toward the other car ahead.
Ira's car.
Curtains drawn. Silence wrapped around it.
My heart twisted.
I hadn't really spoken to her since that night. Since the slap. Since the engagement. Since everything broke into pieces no one wanted to acknowledge.
Ira di-the girl who used to hum while cooking, who laughed too loudly at silly jokes, who believed love was supposed to be gentle.
Now she was quiet.
Too quiet.
I wondered what she was thinking as the wheels carried her toward a man she hadn't chosen, a life she hadn't wanted.
Did she feel scared?
Resigned?
Or had she already accepted that sometimes love doesn't matter when families, power, and fear get involved?
I pressed my forehead lightly against the glass.
I promise you, I thought, my chest aching.
I won't let this happen to you. Not completely. I don't know how yet-but I won't.
Somewhere between cities and promises, between plans and lies, I felt it again that uneasy pull in my stomach.
Like fate was tightening its grip.
Udaipur waited for us with open arms, grand palaces, shimmering lakes...
and secrets that were already moving faster than any of us realized.
And all I could think was..
Please, Ira di. Hold on just a little longer.
And then there was one thing-one small thing that genuinely made me smile.
I was going to meet my cousin after years.
That thought alone lifted something heavy off my chest. Childhood memories, shared secrets, stolen snacks, late-night laughter in this very haveli-it all came rushing back.
As our cars entered Udaipur after a long road trip, the air itself felt different. Calmer. Older. Regal.
And then-
We reached.
The Rathore Haveli stood tall and proud, carved in golden stone, balconies stretching out like open arms, history breathing through every pillar and arch.
Maya literally gasped.
"Oh. My. God," she whispered dramatically. "Reyna... this is not a house. This is a freaking palace."
I stepped out of the car, my feet touching the stone pathway I had once run barefoot on as a child.
Nostalgia hit me hard.
For a moment, I wasn't someone's sister, someone's problem, someone stuck between mafias and marriages.
I was just... Reyna.
Papa and Maa walked ahead, greeted by my chacha and chachi. Warm smiles, polite words, formal hugs. Everything looked perfect on the surface.
As soon as we stepped inside the massive courtyard of the haveli, I spotted them-
Chacha sa and Chachi sa-standing near the entrance, waiting with warm, familiar smiles.
Something inside me softened instantly.
I walked forward, instinct taking over, and folded my hands.
"Namaste, Chacha sa. Namaste, Chachi sa."
Chachi sa's eyes lit up when she saw me. "Reyna beta," she said lovingly, pulling me into a brief hug, while Chacha sa placed a gentle hand on my head in blessing.
Behind me, I felt Maya freeze.
She quickly joined her palms too, slightly awkward but earnest.
"Namaste," she said, then added politely, "Chacha... sa? Chachi... sa?"
The moment they moved ahead to greet my parents, Maya leaned toward me, whispering urgently, eyes wide.
"Wait. What is sa?"
I blinked at her. "What?"
"Sa," she repeated, pointing vaguely in their direction. "You keep adding it after their names. Is it, like... a surname? Or a title? Or some royal thing?"
I smiled faintly. "It's a mark of respect. In Rajasthan, we add sa after elders' titles. It's a way of showing honor."
Maya's mouth fell open.
"Oh."
Then wider.
"So basically," she whispered dramatically, "everyone here speaks in respectful royalty mode?"
I shrugged. "Pretty much."
She looked around the haveli at the carved pillars, the jharokhas, the high ceilings, the echoing footsteps- like she was absorbing every detail.
"This place," she muttered, half to herself, "this culture... these rules... bro, you weren't lying. You are a princess."
I didn't answer.
I just looked at her- so fascinated, so excited, so untouched by the weight this place carried for me.
Because to her, this haveli was beautiful.
To me?
It was history.
It was responsibility.
And now... it was the setting of a wedding I was trying desperately not to think about.
Inside the haveli, everything smelled like sandalwood and memories.
Maya leaned closer to me, eyes wide, voice full of awe.
"Wow, Reyna... you're literally lucky dude."
I let out a small, breathless laugh.
If only she knew.
That palaces don't always protect you.
Sometimes, they cage you.
And somewhere in this grand haveli, fate was already setting the stage for confrontations I wasn't ready for, and feelings I pretended no longer existed.
I was still taking in the familiar arches of the haveli when I heard soft footsteps behind us.
I turned instinctively.
Ira was entering.
She walked in a few steps behind the elders, her posture straight, her lips curved into a polite smile- perfect, practiced, convincing. Anyone else would have believed it. Anyone except me.
Because I could see it.
The way her eyes didn't shine.
The way her shoulders seemed heavier than usual.
The way her smile never quite reached her soul.
It was the kind of smile you wear when you're tired of fighting and have decided to surrender quietly.
My chest tightened.
Before I could go to her, a familiar voice echoed through the hall.
"IRA! REYNA!"
A blur of colour came running toward us, bangles clinking, laughter ringing off the old stone walls.
"Kavya!" I breathed.
My cousin practically crashed into us, wrapping her arms around both of us at once. She was all warmth and excitement, smelling like attar and home.
Kavya is a beautiful teenage girl ( 18) with a lively, carefree aura. She had long, jet-black hair, big expressive brown eyes, and a warm wheatish complexion that glowed under the Udaipur sun. Her smile was bright and infectious, often revealing faint dimples, and her laughter echoed through the haveli like music.
"I missed you both so much!" she exclaimed, squeezing tighter. "You have no idea. This haveli was so boring without you."
I hugged her back, genuinely smiling for the first time since we arrived. Ira hugged her too but her arms felt loose, like she wasn't fully present.
Kavya pulled back, eyes sparkling. "And oh my God, Ira, I still can't believe you're getting married here. A proper royal wedding! I'm so excited!"
I watched Ira carefully.
She smiled again.
That same fake, careful smile.
"Me too," she said softly.
The lie sat heavy between us.
Before I could say anything, Kavya's gaze shifted to Maya, who was standing beside me, wide-eyed and clearly overwhelmed by everything.
"And who is this?" Kavya asked, grinning. "She looks... dangerous. In a cool way."
Maya straightened proudly. "I'll take that as a compliment."
I chuckled. "Kavya, this is Maya. My best friend."
Kavya's smile widened instantly. "Best friends of Reyna are always welcome here." She leaned in conspiratorially. "Anyone who can tolerate her attitude deserves respect."
"Excuse me?" I shot back.
Maya laughed. "She's not wrong."
Kavya laughed with us, then looped her arm through Maya's. "Come, I'll show you your room. You'll love it. This haveli has the best views and the worst gossip."
She turned to us again. "You both must be tired. Travel drains the soul."
Her eyes lingered on Ira for a second longer than necessary, as if she sensed something was off-even if she didn't understand what.
As we followed her down the long corridor, I walked beside Ira, stealing glances at her face.
She looked beautiful.
Elegant.
Broken.
And in that moment, standing inside the walls of a haveli that had witnessed generations of love and loss, one thought burned painfully clear in my mind:
This place was meant for celebrations.
But for my sister-
It already felt like a cage.
Advik :-
Rudra's farmhouse was loud in the way only careless nights could be- music thumping through glass walls, laughter spilling into the poolside, bodies moving without purpose. Rudra had invited a few familiar faces, some men, some women, all people who knew how to forget without asking questions.
The living room was crowded, loud, and buzzing with the kind of excitement that felt completely misplaced in my life.
I stood near the center table, a stack of wedding cards in my hand.
Wedding cards.
Rudra was the first to grab one, flipping it open dramatically. "Well, well," he whistled. "Look at this. Advik Raichand- finally settling down. Should we cry or throw a bachelor party?"
One of the guys laughed. "Bro, destination wedding? Udaipur? You really went full royal."
"Didn't know you were the shaadi types," another friend teased. "What happened to 'marriage is a trap'?"
A girl from the group leaned in, smirking. "So who's the unlucky bride? Does she know what she's signing up for?"
I forced a smile, handed out the remaining cards, nodded through the jokes like they didn't scrape something raw inside me.
Rudra clapped me on the back. "Relax. We're just jealous. But seriously- congrats, man. You're officially becoming boring."
Boring.
If only they knew.
As the laughter continued, my eyes drifted toward the glass doors.
That's when I saw her.
Kiara.
Standing by the pool, black dress, unreadable expression, watching everything from a distance. She hadn't said a word. She didn't need to.
The jokes around me faded into background noise.
Rudra followed my gaze and lowered his voice. "You want me to invite her over? Or is that... complicated now that you're almost a married man?"
I didn't reply.
My grip tightened on the last remaining card.
I walked toward her, every step heavier than the last. Pulled the invitation card from my jacket and held it out. "You should have this."
She took it slowly.
Read it.
Out loud.
"Advik Raichand weds Ira Rathore."
Her laugh was sharp, hollow. "Wow. Even the font is boring. Couldn't you at least pick something dramatic?"
"Kiara-"
"So," she cut me off, eyes burning into mine, "this is it? You play husband with everyone and then go marry the nice girl?"
"That's not fair."
She looked at me like I was stupid. "Nothing about you is fair."
Before I could stop her, she turned, walked to the edge of the pool, and threw the invitation card into the water. It floated for a second... then sank.
I exhaled slowly.
She walked away toward one of the rooms.
I followed. I locked the door behind us.
She turned around instantly. "What now, Advik? Damage control?"
"This marriage isn't my choice," I said. "You know that."
"Oh please," she snapped. "You always have a choice. You just choose power over people."
"If you want," I said quietly, stepping closer, "we can still meet. Nothing has to change."
Her hand came out of nowhere.
Slap.
My head turned slightly from the force.
She grabbed my collar, eyes wet but furious. "I am not your slut," she hissed. "I'm not your side option. I'm not something you hide while you get married with someone else."
"I never said you were...."
"I will not third-wheel your fucking marriage."
Something snapped in me.
I kissed her.
Hard. Desperate.
Like it would shut her up and myself with her.
For a moment, she froze.
Then she broke.
Her hands fisted in my shirt, her body shaking as she pulled away, tears spilling freely now. "I love you," she cried. "And you stand here telling me I'll still be the only girl in your life while you marry someone else?"
I cupped her face, wiped her tears with my thumb. "You will be," I said softly. "Marriage doesn't change that."
It was a lie.
I knew it.
She knew it.
But we both held onto it like it was oxygen.
Outside, the music kept playing.
The party continued.
The room was thick with silence-heavy, suffocating, like all the things we hadn't said were pressing against the walls.
Kiara stood in front of me, eyes red, lashes wet, her anger finally cracking under the weight of hurt. The bravado she carried so well was gone. What remained was raw, exposed emotion.
"I can't do this," she said, her voice breaking. "I can't pretend I'm okay."
She stepped closer, so close I could feel her breath tremble. "Just… stay," she whispered. "With me. Tonight."
I froze.
Her fingers brushed my arm, not seductive—desperate. "Please," she said again, softer now. "Sleep with me. I just need to feel like I still matter to you."
The words landed like a punch to my chest. For a moment, memories rushed in uninvited- late nights, stolen laughs, the comfort of familiarity. There was a time when her closeness felt effortless. Natural.
But now… now it felt wrong.
I gently moved her hand away.
"No," I said quietly.
She looked up at me, stunned. "What?"
"I can't," I repeated, shaking my head. "Not anymore."
Her lips trembled before she laughed bitterly. "Wow. You've really changed."
I said nothing.
"You never said no to me before," she went on, voice rising with every word. "You loved touching me. Being close to me. You always wanted me around." Her eyes searched my face, accusing. "And now suddenly you don't?"
I took a step back.
"That's not it," I said, but the words felt weak even to me.
She scoffed. "Then what is it? Guilt? Or is it because you're marrying that fucking bitch?"
I didn't answer.
Instead, I turned away from her, walking toward the door. My hand rested on the handle, my back to her, my chest tight like I couldn't breathe properly.
Behind me, I heard her sniff, wiping her tears.
I stayed like that for a second longer than necessary.
Then I spoke- l'without turning around.
"Please… attend the wedding. For me."
The room went silent again.
When I finally looked back, Kiara had composed herself—mask back in place, though her eyes were still glassy. She wiped the last of her tears with the back of her hand and lifted her chin.
"I'll think about it," she said flatly.
No reassurance.
No promise.
Just a fragile truce.
I nodded once.
And then I left the room-
leaving behind a girl who loves a devil like me,
, a girl standing alone with feelings I had no right to ask her to carry anymore and a decision made out of greed and duty.