Reyna :-
My heart was still racing when the words echoed again in my head.
I can.
I spun around so fast I almost lost my balance. Kavya straightened up from beside the bed, dusting her kurti like she hadn't just shattered our entire universe. For a second, none of us spoke. Maya looked like she might faint. Rohan went completely still.
"Kavya?" My voice came out sharper than I intended. "What are you doing here?"
She crossed her arms, head tilting slightly, eyes far too knowing for someone her age. "I was hiding," she said simply.
"Hiding... under the bed?" Maya blurted.
Kavya nodded. "Yes. Because I knew something was wrong."
I swallowed. "What do you mean you knew?"
She looked straight at me then, and something in her gaze softened. "From the very first day you came to the haveli," she said quietly. "You were smiling, laughing, doing everything right but it wasn't real. Ira di's eyes were red all the time. You, Maya, Rohan—you all kept whispering, stopping mid-sentence whenever someone entered."
She shrugged. "So when I heard Rohan and Maya talking outside your room, I followed. And when I felt someone might come in... I hid."
My stomach dropped. "So that means..." I whispered.
"Yes," she said, a little sarcastically now. "I heard everything."
Rohan let out a long, defeated sigh and rubbed his face. "Great. Just great."
I stepped closer to Kavya, panic clawing up my throat. "Kavya, please," I said, my voice breaking despite myself. "Don't tell anyone. Please. I'll buy you anything you want. Clothes, phone, camera—whatever you ask for. Just... keep your mouth shut."
She frowned instantly. "Reyna," she said firmly, "I'm not a child you can bribe."
My chest tightened. "Then what do you want?"
"I want to know why," she said. "Why are you risking everything? Why are you doing all this in secret?"
I hesitated only a second.
Then I told her everything.
About the roka day, Ira's silence, the way she flinched whenever the wedding was mentioned.
About how she didn't want this marriage-how she was being forced into it by parents who thought power mattered more than happiness.
About the fake attack.
About the escape plan.
About London.
By the time I finished, my throat hurt and my eyes burned.
Kavya's lips trembled. "Ira di..." she whispered. "She never said anything to me."
"She didn't want to burden anyone," I said softly. "But this wedding will destroy her."
Kavya wiped her eyes roughly, then looked up- determination replacing the tears. "I won't let that happen," she said. "I can't let my Ira di get destroyed like this."
Maya blinked. "You... you mean..."
"I'll help you," Kavya said, cutting her off. "I promise."
Rohan straightened, studying her carefully. "If you're in this," he said seriously, "there's no backing out."
She nodded without hesitation.
"Alright then," Rohan said slowly. "You'll wear Ira's clothes and stay in her room. But one thing is very important."
Kavya looked at him. "What?"
"Do not talk to anyone," he said. "No calls. No replies. No stepping out. Not until everything is done."
She gave a small, brave smile. "I won't. I swear."
I felt something loosen in my chest for the first time that night.
Maybe- just maybe- we weren't alone in this anymore.
Kavya suddenly huffed, irritation spilling over like she'd been holding it in for years.
"That's why," she said sharply, hands on her hips, "I never liked Rajveer uncle."
I blinked. "Kavya--"
"No, seriously," she went on, rolling her eyes. "He's always been like this. Mean. Intimidating. Acting like emotions are a weakness." She scoffed. "And he never even let you guys come here for summer breaks from the last five years. Only because of this stupid mafia business. As if childhood vacations are also a security threat."
Maya snorted before she could stop herself.
I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "He is my father, Kavya."
She looked at me, completely unimpressed.
"And if Keshav chachu were in his place," I continued calmly, "he would do the same. Power, enemies, safety—it comes with this life."
Kavya stared at me for two seconds.
Then she burst out, "Yeah, well- but I'm not like Ira di."
We all froze.
She crossed her arms dramatically. "If I were in her place, I would've killed my fiancé by now."
Rohan choked on air. "Excuse me—what?"
"I mean it," Kavya said seriously, then added with a wicked grin, "Poisoned his coffee. Accidentally pushed him from the terrace. Something subtle."
Maya doubled over laughing. "Note to self: never get engaged to Kavya."
I couldn't help it- I laughed too, shaking my head. "You are impossible."
Kavya smiled smugly. "I know. That's why I survive in this family."
For a brief moment, despite the danger, the secrets, and the ticking clock—we laughed.
And in that laughter, there was something oddly comforting.
One by one, the laughter faded.
The door unlocked.
The lights dimmed.
And reality slowly crept back in.
Rohan was the first to straighten up. "Alright," he said quietly, the strategist back in his voice. "Everyone- back to your rooms. Act normal. No late-night wandering. No suspicious behavior."
Maya gave a lazy salute. "Yes, sir. Operation Save Ira goes undercover."
Kavya nodded seriously now, the humor slipping away. "I'll do exactly what you said. I promise."
I looked at her, really looked at her and for the first time that night, I felt something close to relief.
"Thank you," I said softly.
She smiled. "Sleep, Reyna di. Big day tomorrow."
One by one, they slipped out.
The door clicked shut behind me, leaving my room wrapped in silence.
I changed slowly, my movements heavy, then lay down on the bed, staring at the carved wooden ceiling of the haveli—the same ceiling I had stared at as a child, dreaming of carefree summers and endless laughter.
Tomorrow was the haldi and sangeet.
Music.
Dance.
Smiles painted carefully over secrets.
And somewhere beneath all that celebration, a plan was ticking like a bomb.
I turned onto my side, pulling the blanket closer.
I didn't know what chaos was waiting for us tomorrow.
But I knew one thing for sure—
Nothing about this wedding was going to be simple.
.
.
Parallel POV — Shamsher & Kabir Raichand
The room was sealed from the world.
Heavy wooden doors.
Curtains drawn tight.
One dim lamp casting long shadows across the marble floor.
This was not a room meant for conversations-
it was meant for decisions.
Kabir closed the door behind him and turned the key himself before facing the man standing near the window.
Shamsher Raichand didn't look back immediately.
He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, staring at the dark Udaipur sky as if the city itself belonged to him already.
"It's done," Kabir said quietly.
Shamsher's eyes shifted slightly. "Explain."
"I sent the attackers the location," Kabir continued. "And the exact time window. Two days from now. After the pheras and rituals and during the peak of the wedding chaos- when music is loud, guards are distracted, and emotions are high."
Shamsher finally turned.
There it was- that slow, dangerous smile.
The kind that never reached his eyes.
"Good," he said. "Very good."
Kabir stepped closer. "They've been instructed clearly. No mistakes. No unnecessary bloodshed on our side."
Shamsher hummed thoughtfully. "Mistakes are made by weak men. These are not weak men."
Kabir hesitated. "And the Rathores?"
Shamsher laughed softly- almost fondly.
"Let them laugh," he said.
"Let them sing, dance, celebrate."
"Let them believe they are safe."
He walked toward the table and poured himself a drink.
"These are their last two days of peace. Last two days of their lives."
Kabir felt a chill crawl up his spine but masked it with a nod.
"They have no idea what's coming."
Shamsher raised his glass slightly.
"To ignorance," he said. "It's a luxury they've enjoyed long enough."
Kabir smirked. "After this... Mumbai will be ours."
Shamsher took a slow sip. "Mumbai was always meant to be ours."
A brief silence followed—thick, heavy, final.
Then Kabir spoke again, more cautiously.
"I'll retire for the night, Papa. Tomorrow will be... busy."
Shamsher waved a hand dismissively. "Go. A clear mind makes better execution."
Kabir turned, unlocked the door, and paused for just a second before leaving.
Behind him, Shamsher switched off the lamp and moved toward his bed.
As he lay down, his eyes remained open—sharp, calculating.
Two days.
That was all it took to end an empire
and crown another.
Outside, the haveli slept peacefully.
Inside, monsters rested-
dreaming not of sleep,
but of power.
Next Morning....
Advik :-
I was in the middle of a very important dream.
The kind where nothing made sense but everything felt peaceful- no wedding, no politics, no names tied to mine without my permission.
Just silence.
Then-
Knock knock.
I groaned and turned my face into the pillow.
"Advik," my mother's voice came softly from the other side of the door. "Wake up."
I didn't move.
Another knock, this time firmer. "Advik beta."
I pulled the blanket higher and mumbled, half-asleep, half-acting,
"Five more minutes, Ma."
I felt the door open.
I didn't need to see her to know she was smiling.
"Five minutes turn into five hours for you," she said fondly, walking in. She sat on the edge of my bed and brushed her hand through my hair the way she used to when I was a child. "Get up. Big day."
I cracked one eye open. "If I don't open both eyes... does the day still count?"
She laughed softly. "Nice try."
I sighed dramatically but finally sat up. "What time is it?"
"Late enough," she replied. "Go take a bath and get ready. Today is your haldi and sangeet."
The words hit harder than expected.
Haldi. Sangeet.
My wedding rituals.
Reality crashed into me in one cold wave.
I nodded, forcing myself to stand. "I'll get ready."
She paused at the door and looked back at me, her eyes warm. "You'll look very handsome today."
I didn't know what to say to that.
So I just nodded again.
The shower water ran hot, steaming up the bathroom, but it didn't wash away the heaviness sitting in my chest.
Every drop felt like a countdown.
I dressed slowly- yellow kurta, crisp pajama, an embroidered overcoat laid over my shoulders. The color of celebration.
The color of surrender.
When I stepped out, the haveli barely looked like the same place.
Everything was drenched in yellow- marigold flowers, drapes, cushions. The air smelled of turmeric, roses, and incense. The walls glowed like they were ready to witness a thousand smiles.
It looked... beautiful. Like a bride.
I descended the stairs just as laughter echoed through the hall.
"Arrey Advik!"
I turned just in time to see my Bua ji step inside the hall, her face glowing with excitement, bangles clinking as she opened her arms. I moved forward and hugged her properly.
"My handsome nephew! Mera she beta " she exclaimed, holding my face. "Finally getting married. I've waited for this day since you were born."
Fufa ji followed, clapping me on the back. "Haan haan, ab dekhte hain shaadi ke baad kitna sher bachta hai."
Ayaan laughed. Arjun smiled- tight, practiced, polite.
I forced a smile of my own.
Before I could reply, Ayaan rushed past me and Arjun walked behind him.
"Ma!" he said warmly, hugging her tightly.
Then, without hesitation, they both bent down and touched both Bua ji's and Fufa ji's feet, their voice soft with respect.
"Bless us."
Fufa ji placed a hand on his head immediately. "Khush raho," he said, then added with a grin, "Aur zyada seedha mat ban jana, warna duniya kha jayegi."
Ayaan laughed. "You taught me that yourself, Dad."
Bua ji smiled proudly, pulling them into another hug. "My good boys."
I watched them- an easy, warm family moment and something twisted quietly in my chest.
That was when I noticed movement near the entrance again.
The sound of wheels rolling against marble.
I looked up.
Kiara walked in, pulling a small suitcase behind her.
For a second, everything else blurred.
She was dressed neatly, sunglasses perched on her head, confidence wrapped tightly around her posture- but the luggage gave her away.
She wasn't just visiting.
She was staying.
My jaw tightened without me realizing it.
She scanned the hall, her eyes finally landing on me and something unmistakable flickered across her face. Relief. Expectation. Hope.
She walked toward me, leaving the suitcase near the door.
"Advik..."
She stepped closer, instinctively leaning in for a hug.
I stepped back.
The distance was small, but it felt brutal.
Her hand hovered in the air for a second too long before dropping back to her side.
A flash of hurt crossed her face- quick, raw before she smoothed it into a smile.
"You look good," she said lightly, forcing ease into her voice. "Yellow suits you."
"Thanks," I replied, dry. Polite. Closed.
Silence stretched between us, thick and uncomfortable.
I turned my head slightly. "Tara."
Tara appeared instantly, sharp eyes taking in everything-the luggage, the space between us, Kiara's expression.
"Take her inside," I said firmly. "Everyone's gathering."
Kiara looked at me once more, searching my face like she was hoping I'd stop her.
I didn't.
Tara gently guided her away, and as Kiara disappeared down the corridor, I stood there surrounded by laughter, blessings, and marigold flowers-
And felt the weight of this wedding settle even heavier on my chest.
I was still standing there, staring at the corridor where Kiara had disappeared, when a familiar hand clapped down on my shoulder.
Hard.
I didn't even need to turn.
"Now this," Rudra said, voice dripping with amusement, "is where the real fun begins."
I shot him a warning look. "Don't."
Too late.
He grinned wider, cleared his throat dramatically, and started singing loud enough for half the hall to hear-
"Ik taraf hai gharwaali,
Ik taraf baharwaali..."
I groaned. "Rudra.."
But Arjun, traitor that he was, immediately joined in, clapping along like he'd been waiting his whole life for this moment.
"Yeh bole woh aala,
Woh bole me aali..."
Rudra burst out laughing. "Bro, I swear, your life has turned into a full-on Bollywood plot. One side- future wife. Other side- past, present, and clearly very emotional friend."
Ayaan snorted from behind them. "Friend? Sure. That's what we're calling it now?"
I clenched my jaw. "Shut up, guys."
Rudra wasn't done. He leaned in closer, lowering his voice just enough to sound fake-serious.
"Just saying, Advik... ab aayega maza."
Arjun added with a mock sigh, "Haldi, sangeet, wedding... and emotional chaos. Perfect combination."
I shot them both a glare sharp enough to cut glass.
"Any one of you sings one more line, I swear I'll throw you all into the pool."
Rudra raised both hands innocently. "Okay, okay. Peace offering."
Then he smirked again. "But admit it- you don't get bored, do you?"
I turned away, heading toward the inner courtyard where yellow flowers hung like sunshine frozen in time.
"No," I muttered under my breath.
Bored was the last thing I felt.
Trapped?
Conflicted?
Pulled in a thousand directions?
That... was more accurate.
Reyna :-
Morning arrived quietly in Udaipur, wrapped in the soft gold of the rising sun.
I stood in the middle of the haveli courtyard, arms folded, watching chaos bloom into celebration.
Yellow marigolds hung from every archway, strings of mogra lined the corridors, and the air smelled faintly of sandalwood and fresh flowers. Workers moved around with ladders, baskets, and fabric rolls, while the wedding designer stood near the fountain, barking instructions.
I wasn't excited.
Not even a little.
But this was my sister's wedding-or at least, that's what the world believed-so I swallowed the weight in my chest and stepped forward.
"Add more marigolds near the entrance," I told the designer calmly. "And soften the lighting around the haldi mandap. It looks too harsh-this is supposed to feel warm, not dramatic."
He nodded immediately. "Yes, Reyna ji."
I watched as they adjusted things, my mind detached, running on autopilot. I was doing everything right- suggesting flowers, correcting colors, making sure nothing looked imperfect.
Funny how you could plan a celebration perfectly while everything inside you was breaking.
"Reyna."
I turned.
Devika Maa stood at the edge of the courtyard, dressed in a simple yellow saree, her face glowing with that quiet strength she always carried.
"The haldi muhurat is at twelve," she said gently. "Go get ready. And... make sure Ira is ready too."
Her eyes lingered on me for a second longer than necessary, as if she wanted to say something else but didn't.
I nodded. "I will, Maa."
I walked back to my room slowly, my footsteps echoing through the long corridors of the haveli. Once inside, I shut the door and leaned against it for a moment, exhaling.
Just a few more hours, I told myself.
Just play your part.
The lehenga lay neatly arranged on the bed.
A mustard-yellow lehenga, flowing and graceful. The skirt was rich and voluminous, moving like liquid sunlight. The blouse was sleeveless, embroidered with delicate circular and floral patterns in soft golds and whites, paired with a matching dupatta draped lightly over one shoulder.
It was beautiful.
I changed slowly, letting the fabric settle around me. The lehenga felt heavier than it looked-like everything else in my life lately.
I kept my makeup light: soft kohl-lined eyes, a hint of blush, nude lips. Nothing dramatic. Nothing loud.
I curled my hair into loose, soft waves that framed my face, letting them fall naturally down my back. A small maang tikka rested at my hairline, catching the light when I moved.
When I finally looked at myself in the mirror, a stranger stared back.
A girl dressed for celebration.
A girl who looked calm, composed- almost happy.
If only they knew.
I picked up my dupatta, squared my shoulders, and stepped out.
Ira's room was just down the corridor.
As I reached her door, my heart tightened.
This is for her, I reminded myself.
Everything I'm doing... is for her.
I knocked softly-and then pushed the door open, ready to face my sister.
I stopped at the doorway.
For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.
Ira stood near the window, sunlight spilling over her like a blessing. The lehenga she wore was a riot of colors-deep pinks melting into mustard yellow and soft orange, every panel embroidered with delicate motifs that caught the light when she moved. The dupatta rested gracefully over her shoulder, its border heavy with craftsmanship, yet it didn't weigh her down. It only made her look... radiant.
The makeup artist had worked magic.
Ira's face carried the softness of haldi- warm, glowing skin, lightly flushed cheeks, eyes defined just enough to make them expressive without overpowering her innocence. Fresh flowers were tucked into her sleek hair, and the jewelry sat on her as if it belonged there all along.
She didn't look like a bride being forced into a marriage.
She looked like a dream.
My chest tightened.
If only beauty could save her.
I stepped inside quietly, afraid my voice might break the spell. The makeup artist turned toward me with a professional smile.
"She's ready," she said proudly. "Completely."
I nodded. "Thank you."
She began packing her brushes and palettes, the sound of zippers and clinking bangles filling the room. Within minutes, she was gone, leaving behind silence-and us.
Ira finally looked at me.
Her smile was small. Fragile.
"Reyna," she whispered, fingers twisting nervously at the edge of her dupatta. "I'm... I'm nervous."
I crossed the room and took her hands in mine. They were cold.
"I know," I said softly. "Anyone would be."
Her eyes searched my face. "Everything feels too big. Too fast."
I squeezed her hands gently, grounding her. "Listen to me. Today, you just have to act. Smile. Laugh. Blend in. Let them see what they expect to see-a happy bride enjoying her haldi."
She swallowed. "And inside?"
"Inside," I said quietly, meeting her gaze, "you hold on. Just a little longer."
She nodded, trusting me the way she always had.
I adjusted her dupatta, brushed an imaginary crease from her lehenga, then smiled at her-wide and convincing.
"Come on," I said lightly. "Your haldi is waiting."
Taking her hand, I led her out of the room and down the corridor, toward the yellow-drenched courtyard below.
Music echoed faintly. Laughter floated up the stairs.
The world celebrated.
And we walked straight into it- hiding our truth behind smiles, one step closer to the chaos that awaited us.
I stopped at the edge of the courtyard. Everyone was dressed in yellow outfits.
The dhol beats grew louder, the air thick with turmeric, marigold petals, and forced laughter. This was it-her moment. I loosened my grip on Ira's hand and leaned closer, my voice barely audible.
"Go," I whispered. "Let them see you first."
She nodded, eyes glossy but steady, and before I could say anything else, Meera aunty appeared beside us, all smiles and authority, gently taking Ira's arm.
"Come, beta," she said warmly, guiding her forward.
I stayed back.
For the first time that morning, I was alone-standing on the sidelines of a celebration that felt like a beautifully wrapped lie.
My gaze drifted across the courtyard... and then I saw him.
Advik.
Not in black.
The sight alone almost made me laugh.
He was dressed in yellow-bright, festive, almost soft. The color did something unfair to him, warming his sharp features, making him look less like the man who barked warnings and more like someone who belonged in sunlight and laughter.
Without meaning to, a smile curved onto my lips.
Well, I thought, looks like even sunshine surrenders to him.
"All colors suit him," I murmured under my breath.
"Especially when he's not dressed like a walking funeral."
I froze.
Then groaned.
Rohan. Maya. Kavya.
They appeared behind me like a perfectly timed ambush.
"Wow," Maya said, eyeing me from head to toe. "If confidence had a face, it would sue you for copyright."
Kavya nodded enthusiastically. "You look like you're the one getting married."
I rolled my eyes but smiled. "Relax. I'm just doing my duty of outshining everyone equally."
Maya snorted. "Modest too. Amazing."
I turned to Maya, taking in her outfit.
"By the way, Maya- this color on you? Illegal. Somewhere, fashion laws are being broken."
She grinned. "I know. I woke up and chose violence."
Kavya laughed, smoothing her dupatta. "And me?"
I tilted my head thoughtfully. "You look like the sweet girl who could start a riot and still get away with it."
"Goals," Kavya declared.
Then I looked at Rohan.
He stood there, relaxed yet alert, dressed impeccably as always-but today, there was something softer about him. The way his hair fell, the quiet confidence in his posture. Dangerously handsome.
I raised an eyebrow. "You know," I said casually, "if being good-looking was a crime, you'd already be serving a life sentence."
Rohan blinked. Then actually blushed.
Maya burst out laughing. "OH MY GOD. DID YOU SEE THAT? REYNA BROKE HIM."
"I did not blush," he muttered.
"You turned the exact shade of haldi," Maya shot back.
I smirked. "Cute."
Rohan shook his head, trying-and failing-to hide his smile.
My laughter faded as my eyes drifted back toward the haldi platform.
Advik and Ira sat side by side now.
She looked small next to him. Quiet. Controlled.
The scene tugged at something in my chest, dragging me back to the roka day-the way everything had been decided in a single afternoon, the way Ira's silence had screamed louder than any protest.
History repeating itself.
Except this time, I knew the truth.
I looked away, jaw tightening.
Smile now, I reminded myself. Remember later.
Because in this haveli, memories weren't just painful-
They were dangerous.