A silent billionaire.
A woman trained to kill.
When power marries danger, love turns lethal.
The car door shut. The noise of the world stayed outside.
Trishika sat beside me, looking out of the window. Her reflection formed faintly against the glass.
I didn’t speak. Silence was more efficient for me. I made people fall silent—by strength or by presence.
I tried to study her through her stillness. When you let people speak, they reveal more than they intend. But right now, I wanted peace—from outside suffocation.
The road stretched ahead under a blue haze of light. Security cars moved in perfect formation. Everything under control.
Inside the car—stillness.
A brief thought surfaced.
Was this a mistake?
I dismissed it immediately.
The car turned. Her shoulder brushed mine—she stiffened, then went still again. For the first time since we sat here, I looked at her closely.
Her green eyes—deep like a forest after rain—held tears that shimmered within them, like droplets caught between leaves.
They flickered, struggling to stay open. Exhaustion weighed them down, dimming their sharpness… but not their depth.
“You can sleep,” I said.
“I’m fine,” she replied.
It was the first time I heard her voice—unmistakably melodious, carrying a quiet femininity.
Then silence filled the air again.
The city faded into darkness. Night deepened—but the darkness within me was far more unsettling.
The mangalsutra at her neck caught my attention for a moment. I looked away immediately. I didn’t want to register that I had placed it there. But looking away didn’t change reality.
This was not what I had thought.
She was not what I wanted.
And I had nothing to do with her.
By the time the gates appeared in the distance—tall, unmistakably Rathor—my irritation had already settled in.
The decorations were excessive. The lighting too bright. It stung my eyes, worsening my mood.
The car slowed in front of the gate.
She would have to prepare herself.
This was not what she had imagined.
The gates opened soundlessly.
Inside, the driveway glowed with rows of lamps. Flowers lined the path—decorative, meaningless—blurring my vision. I couldn’t stand so many colors at once.
The car stopped in front of the mansion.
Movement gathered ahead—family and trusted people only.
No media. No cameras.
What belonged inside Rathor walls… stayed there.
Now they must all be happy. After playing marriage and wasting my time. Pushing me into this hell and placing a living burden on my shoulders.
My mother stood at the front, my aunts and sisters beside her, an aarti plate already prepared.
A welcome for her… into my world.
The car door opened. I stepped out immediately.
I wanted this over.
The faint sound of her bangles followed—sharp against my patience. Her heavy lehenga only made it worse. How she was even managing to walk in it—I didn’t know.
My mother smiled warmly as she lifted the aarti plate.
“Welcome home,” she said gently.
My grandfather stepped forward next. His gaze was measured, reading me as he always did.
“Beta, this is your home too,” he said evenly. “And we are your family.”
“Yes, Grandfather,” Trishika replied respectfully.
Everyone looked eager to speak, to celebrate—but they restrained themselves. They knew silence was more important now than words.
Tomorrow, I had meetings. And instead of preparing, I was still playing marriage. The thought irritated me.
The estate gates closed behind us. With her… even my old life felt left behind.
I turned toward my chamber, exhaustion dragging at me, when my grandfather’s voice stopped me.
“Ranbir,” he said evenly. “These days, people get time to know each other before marriage. You didn’t. Still, you married—I am happy. But make sure she feels comfortable here. In this house. In your space.”
I paused.
“She will,” I said.
“No,” he corrected calmly. “Promise me.”
He knew why he was asking. This marriage had happened in their minds long before mine. They wanted to see if I would remain the same… or become what they expected.
“Yes,” I said finally. “I promise.”
I would give her space.
Safety.
Stability.
Nothing more. Not me. Not my trust.
Whatever happened in my past… I didn’t trust anyone anymore.
I felt a soft hand over mine.
My mother.
“Ranbir, my dear child,” she said softly, “you are not just a man now. You are a family. When a woman marries, the only person she truly trusts is her husband. Even if the whole world turns against her—his care is enough.”
Her eyes filled with emotion.
“For me. For Trishika—never hurt her. She is not just your wife. She is a part of you. Half of you stands here… the other half she carries in her heart.”
My father stepped beside her, his hand settling on my shoulder.
“You don’t know her yet,” he said quietly. “But she is a good woman. Give her time—to settle in this house… and in your heart.”
They said all this because they knew who I was.
What I was.
A monster wearing discipline like a mask.
I respected them—but I couldn’t do that. They knew it too. I knew why they arranged this marriage. They wanted the old Ranbir back.
But I couldn’t change. It was impossible.
And I didn’t want to.
I liked this version of me. Control. Power.
I walked to my room and threw that disgusting sherwani off my body. The heavy embroidery felt suffocating, tightening around my throat. I stepped into a cold shower, letting the water reset my mind from everything that had happened today.
I moved toward the terrace—I needed air—but the moment I stepped out, it hit me.
The house felt suffocating.
Noise echoed through the mansion, bouncing off marble and walls, reaching my ears again and again. That was why I wanted to protect them… but not live with them.
I walked through the empty corridor.
Yet the noise followed me.
I stopped there for a moment and lit a cigarette.
The flame flickered—then died.
Smoke filled my lungs as I leaned against the railing, thinking about my situation.
“Bhabhi, do you like our house?” Ankita’s voice carried easily.
“We’ll help you unpack!” Priya added, excitement clear in her voice.
“I’ll show you the whole mansion,” Radhika said quickly. “God, I’ve been waiting for this.”
She talked too much. Never kept her mouth shut for even a minute.
Hopefully, she knew better than to speak like that in front of me.
I remembered her talking non-stop the entire day… even her teachers used to complain about it.
“We’ve been waiting so long for bhai to get married,” Reyansh announced loudly.
“Let’s introduce ourselves properly,” Radhika continued. “You’ve already met Priya and Ankita—and I’m his biological, very sweet sister,” she added with a grin.
“I was out of the city for my studies, but now I’m back,” she continued without pause.
“You talk too much,” Nishant interrupted dryly. “I’m Nishant. His brother.”
“And I’m Reyansh,” Reyansh added immediately.
“My name is Nikhil, bhabhi ji,” Nikhil said with a laugh.
“Now everyone else,” Nishant said.
“Daksh Malhotra.”
“Kartik Khurana. Nice to meet you.”
“Sameer Singh.”
A brief pause.
“I’m very happy to meet you all,” she said softly. “I’ll do my best to become part of this family.”
“You already are,” my aunt replied warmly.
It sounded like an informal meeting.
One by one, introductions—names, smiles, approval-seeking expressions. As if her reaction mattered more than anything else. As if this was the most important task they had.
Did they forget we had meetings tomorrow? Contracts pending? Enemies who didn’t sleep just because I got married?
Why were they wasting time on this?
Everyone—my family, my friends—looked desperate for her comfort, her approval. As if she were something fragile that needed constant reassurance.
I clenched my jaw.
If any one of them showed up even a second late to tomorrow’s meeting, I’d make sure they remembered it.
I exhaled sharply.
Why was I halfway to the terrace?
Why was I standing here, listening to all of this?
What the hell was I doing?
I crushed the cigarette under my shoe and walked further out onto the terrace. Another cigarette followed. Smoke filled my lungs again.
When I looked at the sky, the stars—and even the moon—were swallowed by darkness.
And a thought came into my mind.
Her.
My velvet viper.
I wanted her close. Always.
The power she held. The strength. The skill.
She could make me kneel—and I hated that.
I had many plans for her, and she didn’t even know whose eyes had fallen on her. There was no way to back off now.
I planned things so she would keep circling within my reach—without even realizing it.
And even when I couldn’t find anything concrete about her… I still watched.
I didn’t know what exactly I was looking for.
But I liked the process.
I didn’t realize how much time had passed until my phone vibrated.
I straightened immediately and walked toward my chamber.
Tomorrow’s deals were mine to close.
Then I heard a sound from inside my chamber.
Who was trying to step in there? I allowed everyone to come here, but only my mother ever entered my chamber. Yet this sound… it disrupted my calm.
I opened the door of my room—
And froze.
This wasn’t the room I had left a few hours ago.
What the hell had happened here?
The room wasn’t wrong.
It was… invaded.
By her presence.
Suitcases stood open near the sitting area. Silk spilling out as if it had no fear of the space it entered. Fabric softer than anything this room had ever held.
Servants moved efficiently, placing her dresses inside my closet.
My closet.
That space had always been precise. Now it shared space with her things.
“Stop.”
One word—and every movement froze.
Their hands began to tremble. Their minds stalled. No one dared to look up.
I stepped forward slowly, my eyes scanning the damage.
“Who ordered this?” I asked calmly.
No answer.
I exhaled through my nose, my jaw tightening.
“Take everything,” I said. “Out.”
A pause.
“Now.”
The servants moved instantly, undoing what they had done seconds ago. My space reclaiming itself inch by inch.
This room had always been mine. Built for control. For a man who slept barely a few hours and ruled the rest of the day.
And without asking—
Someone had decided she belonged here.
I ran a hand through my hair, irritation simmering beneath the surface.
No one entered my territory without my permission.
I felt her before I turned.
She stood a few steps behind me.
Frozen.
Her eyes moved across the room, confusion written clearly on her face.
“Did you see another room,” I asked calmly, “on your way here?”
“Y–yes,” she replied, her voice unsteady.
I nodded once.
“Take your belongings,” I said evenly. “That room is yours.”
A pause.
“And don’t come here again,” I added, my tone controlled, final. “Do you understand?”
Her throat moved as she swallowed.
“Yes,” she said quietly, lowering her gaze.
I saw it then—the brief flicker of disappointment she tried to hide.
“Good.”
I turned away.
I didn’t wait to see her move. I just wanted her gone—with all her things—so I could breathe again.
I wanted her to understand it clearly.
I didn’t want her. Not now. Not ever.
Right now, the only thing that mattered was work.
And I returned to it—without looking back.
Write a comment ...