A Long-Awaited Friday

The days passed like rock, a rock of huge Wait, and finally, Friday arrived.

Throughout the week, Ragini’s heart had been restless, counting down to this day,the day she would see him again.

That morning, she walked downstairs, a bright smile gracing her lips. Spotting Naveen in the living room, she side-hugged him warmly. Naveen smiled back, "Good morning Princess.." he kissed on her cheeks with love.

But there was another pair of eyes watching her,dark, hooded, filled with something unsettling.

Kumar Sehrawat.

A decade-long business partner of Naveen, Kumar had been handling his affairs for years. But behind that professional face, he harbored something far more personal,a deep, lingering obsession with Ragini.

Many times, he had tried to get closer to her, using Naveen as a bridge, but to Ragini, he was not something important to pay attention.

Today, as she stood there, smiling so innocently, his gaze fixed on her, hunger visible in his eyes.

"Good morning, Ragini," he greeted, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Good morning, Mr. Sehrawat. Sorry, I didn’t notice you," she replied politely.

"That’s alright. By the way, I saw your pictures receiving the award. Many, many congratulations!"

"Thank you," she beamed.

She turned to Naveen, "Bhai, you guys carry on. I’ll go to college with Siddharth bhaiya."

Naveen just nodded, keeping the smile.
With that, Ragini walked toward the dining table, leaving Kumar’s stare following her like a shadow.

Naveen’s expression darkened. He slumped onto the sofa, his fingers drumming against his knee. "Thakur was there, presenting Ragini the award!"

Kumar saw his chance. He smirked. "That’s something to worry about… He must know what Ragini means to you."

Naveen’s jaw tightened. "If he even takes a single step toward my sister, I swear I’ll kill him."

Kumar leaned back, amused. "You can’t. Remember the power of Randheer Singh Thakur. We should take precautions. We should protect Ragini."

"I’ll appoint some guards around her," Naveen stated firmly.

"That’s a temporary solution, Naveen. Think of something permanent—something that stays with her forever."

Naveen frowned. "What do you mean?"

Kumar’s smirk widened. "Think about Ragini’s marriage."

The words hung in the air. Naveen turned his gaze to him, eyes narrowing.
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Evening – The Temple Garden
The sun had started to dip, bathing the world in hues of gold and crimson. Despite his tight schedule, Randheer had managed to come. He sat on a chair in the temple's garden, his posture casual, but his mind was elsewhere.

No matter how much he tried to ignore it, a part of him missed her.

The silence stretched, pressing against his chest. Then suddenly—a light tap on his shoulder.

The touch was so familiar, so intimate, that he turned without a second thought.

But there was no one.

A flicker of disappointment crossed his face as he sighed and turned back, only to find Ragini sitting beside him, grinning mischievously.

"Whom are you searching for?" she teased, her eyes dancing with amusement.

Randheer's face remained impassive. "No one."

"Ah, I see… You were looking for me, weren't you? Since I told you to meet here?" she smirked, leaning slightly closer.

His brows furrowed, irritation flickering in his eyes. "No."

"Liar!" she accused playfully, her voice lilting with innocent challenge.

This time, Randheer didn't even bother to respond. He simply folded his arms across his chest, his expression carved from stone, his jaw set in stubborn silence.

Ragini tilted her head, studying him with quiet curiosity. The way the fading sunlight caught his sharp features, the tension in his shoulders, the carefully guarded walls around him—it all intrigued her.

Then, with a thoughtful look softening her face, she asked,

"By the way, Thakur Sahab—"

Randheer's gaze snapped to her, his dark eyes narrowing slightly.

Something shifted inside him upon hearing that title from her lips.

'Thakur Sahab…'

It sounded different when she said it—like something warm, something that settled deep in his chest and refused to leave.

Ragini noticed the subtle change in his expression, the way his breath seemed to catch for just a fraction of a second.

A little hesitant now, she asked softly, "Can I call you that? Well, I'm—" she trailed off casually, leaving the sentence unfinished.

Randheer didn't reply. He liked the way it sounded from her—too much, perhaps. But he refused to acknowledge it. His pride wouldn't allow him to show interest in Naveen's sister. Not now. Not ever.

He turned his face away, his silence speaking volumes, building walls she couldn't yet see.

But Ragini wasn't done yet.

"What's so special about this place to you, Thakur Sahab?" she asked again, her voice gentle, genuinely curious.

Randheer exhaled slowly, his gaze distant. "Masa used to come here." (Mother used to come here.)

"And now?"

His jaw tightened. "Someone took her away from me."

A pause hung heavy between them.

"Oh… Sorry," Ragini whispered, her voice dropping with genuine empathy. "I also lost my parents when I was ten. Since then, my brothers and sweetest Bhabhi raised me." (Since then, my brothers and sweetest sister-in-law raised me.)

Randheer gave a slight nod, his voice quiet. "Naveen, Siddharth, and Navya."

Ragini blinked in surprise, her eyes widening. "How do you know them?"

"Business partners."

"Oh… I see," she murmured, falling into a thoughtful silence.

The sun continued its descent, casting long shadows across the temple grounds. The sky, once bright and alive, slowly surrendered to the encroaching darkness, painting everything in shades of amber and violet.

Ragini—bright, cheerful, untouched by the cruelty of the world she hadn't yet fully known.

Randheer—the darkness itself, a man who had stopped hoping for light years ago.

Yet here they were, sitting beside each other in companionable silence, not speaking, just existing in each other's presence.

For the first time in years, Randheer found himself unwilling to move, unwilling to break whatever fragile peace had settled between them.

And then—

A shift.

Something in the air changed.

Randheer's instincts screamed danger.

He straightened instantly, his body going rigid as his eyes scanned the area with military precision. His gaze caught something in the reflection of Ragini's shimmering dupatta—shadows. Men. Armed. Watching them from the periphery.

His entire body tensed, muscles coiling like a predator ready to strike.

"I think you should leave now," he stated, his voice dropping to a commanding tone that left no room for argument.

"But why?" Ragini asked, confusion clouding her innocent features.

"This place is not safe anymore."

"Meaning?"

"Ask Naveen. Just leave. Now." His tone was sharp, edged with urgency and something darker—fear for her.

Ragini sensed the danger radiating from him, the way his entire demeanor had shifted from calm to lethal in seconds. She nodded hesitantly, her heart beginning to race as she turned to leave.

Just then—

A glint of metal caught the dying sunlight. The unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked echoed through the quiet garden.

"Ragini!!"

Randheer's voice thundered across the space, raw and desperate, making her heart stop mid-beat. She turned instinctively, a soft, confused smile still on her lips, but before she could process anything—

A bullet whizzed past her, so close she felt the displacement of air against her cheek.

She gasped, her body freezing in pure shock, her mind unable to comprehend what had just happened.

Gunfire erupted from multiple directions.

Randheer was there in an instant, his hand shooting out to grab hers, his grip iron-strong as he pulled her forcefully into the shadows behind the temple structure.

---

Randheer's grip on Ragini's wrist was firm yet controlled as he pulled her through the temple's dimly lit corridors, his movements swift and calculated. His sharp eyes scanned continuously for threats while his body moved with the precision of someone trained for combat, ensuring her safety without a moment's hesitation.

Behind the temple, he found a narrow space—barely enough for one person, let alone two. Ancient stone walls formed a natural alcove, hidden from view but offering minimal protection. But with danger lurking close, he had no choice.

He pushed Ragini into the tight space, then pressed himself in after her, his broad back against the cold stone wall to shield her completely from view.

The space was suffocatingly small.

Ragini gasped as her body was pressed unavoidably against his—her soft curves colliding with his hard, muscular frame. Their breaths mingled in the limited air between them, warm and rapid. She could feel every plane of strength in his chest, the steady rise and fall of his breathing despite the chaos, the controlled power in every inch of him.

His scent—intoxicating and purely masculine, a heady mix of musk, sandalwood, and something indefinably him—wrapped around her senses, making her heartbeat stumble and race wildly.

Her blue eyes flickered up to meet his face, and despite the danger, despite everything, admiration shone through her gaze. "Hey Devi Maiya... yeh kya bala banai hai! Inhe dekh ke toh sab bhool jaaun... sirf inke aagosh mein lipti rahun..." (Oh Mother Goddess... what a dangerous creation you've made! Looking at him makes me forget everything... I just want to remain wrapped in his embrace...) she thought helplessly, her cheeks flaming despite the fear.

Unaware of the storm he was stirring within her innocent heart, Randheer remained laser-focused on the goons outside. His body was tense, coiled and ready to attack if needed. His fingers twitched near his concealed weapon, but he resisted the urge. Killing them now would only draw more attention, putting Ragini in even greater danger.

"Thakur Sahab..." her soft, trembling voice broke through his tactical thoughts.

Randheer turned, and for the first time in those tense moments, truly registered how impossibly close they were.

Her innocent, ocean-blue eyes held a potent mix of fear and absolute trust—trust in him, in his ability to protect her. The natural pink tint on her full lips, the way her breath hitched as she looked up at him with those wide, vulnerable eyes—something dangerous and unwanted stirred deep in his chest.

His jaw clenched hard. She shouldn't be this close. This shouldn't feel this... right.

"Who are they?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Before she could say more, Randheer's hand shot up, his rough, calloused finger pressing gently but firmly against her soft, trembling lips.

"Chup," (Quiet,) he ordered, his deep voice like a quiet growl that sent shivers down her spine.

The moment his calloused skin met her lips, a jolt of something electric—something she'd never experienced before—ran through her entire body. Her breath stilled completely, her small hands instinctively gripping the front of his kurta to steady herself against the overwhelming sensation.

Her eyes widened as she stared at him, completely entranced. She had never been this close to a man before, and certainly not to one as intimidatingly, devastatingly handsome as Randheer Singh Thakur.

His dark, intense eyes bore into hers with an expression she couldn't quite read—protective, commanding, yet holding something deeper, something he seemed determined to suppress.

His finger still rested against her trembling lips, and she found she couldn't look away, couldn't breathe, couldn't think of anything but him.

"I'll explain later. For now, stay quiet," he commanded, his voice brooking no argument.

She nodded mutely, completely lost in him, in this moment suspended between danger and something far more perilous to her heart.

Randheer inhaled sharply and forced himself to look away, jaw working as he fought for control. She's not meant for this. Not meant for this world. Not meant for me.

"Listen carefully," he said after a moment, his voice low but unshakably firm. "For the next five minutes, you will close your eyes and do exactly as I say. I will get you out of here safely. Trust me."

"But Tha—"

"I hate questions," he cut her off coldly, though his grip on her remained protective.

His sharp tone made her flinch slightly, but she recognized the concern beneath the harshness. She obeyed, nodding hesitantly, placing her complete faith in him.

Without another word, he reached for the edge of her dupatta with surprising gentleness and carefully pulled it over her eyes, tying it into a secure blindfold with practiced efficiency.

The moment his fingers brushed her soft cheek, a visible shiver ran down her spine, and she bit her lip to suppress the gasp that threatened to escape.

"Hold my hand," he ordered quietly.

She did, her small fingers wrapping around his larger, rougher hand without hesitation.

And in that moment, she felt it—the silent strength in his grip, the unspoken promise, the way he shielded her from the entire cruel world with just his presence.

He was her protector tonight.

Her unexpected savior.

Perhaps something more.

As they moved carefully out of their hiding spot, the goons spotted them immediately.

Randheer's grip on her hand tightened protectively.

Within seconds, steel clashed against steel with a sharp, ringing sound.

Still holding Ragini's hand firmly, never letting go for even a second, he unsheathed a hidden sword with his free hand and struck with lethal, breathtaking precision. Blood splattered onto the ancient temple's stone floor as agonized screams filled the previously peaceful air.

Ragini flinched violently at the violent noises—the clash of metal, the cries of pain, the sounds of bodies falling—but she trusted him blindly, completely, her hand gripping his like a lifeline.

Randheer moved like a warrior born for battle, his blade an extension of his controlled fury. One by one, the attackers fell before his merciless skill, none able to breach his defense, none able to reach the woman he protected.

Then—

A gunshot echoed through the night, deafening and final.

White-hot pain tore through Randheer's left arm.

He staggered slightly, his breath hissing through clenched teeth, but his grip on Ragini never faltered, not for even a fraction of a second. His jaw tightened as he glanced down at the wound. Blood seeped through his kurta, the dark stain spreading rapidly across the fabric.

"Thakur Sahab!"

Ragini's panicked cry cut through the chaos like a knife to his chest.

She ripped off the blindfold with trembling hands, her eyes widening in absolute horror as she saw the blood.

Without thinking, without fear for herself, she rushed to him, her fingers shaking violently as she tore a piece of her precious dupatta and pressed it firmly against his wound, trying desperately to stem the bleeding.

"We need to get you to a doctor. Right now," she said urgently, her voice thick with barely controlled panic and something deeper—genuine, profound concern.

"I'm fine," Randheer gritted out, though his face had paled slightly.

"No, you're not! You're bleeding!" she snapped with unexpected fierceness. "I'm not leaving you like this. I won't."

His dark eyes flickered with something unreadable—surprise, perhaps, or something more vulnerable. He could see the raw concern blazing in her gaze, the determination, the way she was ready to fight him—fight the world—just to ensure his safety.

It made something inside his carefully constructed walls weaken dangerously.

"Ragini, go home," he said, his voice rough with pain and something else.

"No!" she refused stubbornly, her chin lifting with surprising defiance. "Not without you."

Randheer exhaled sharply, frustrated by her stubbornness yet inexplicably moved by it. Why is she making this so difficult? Why does she care so much?

"Fine. I'll drop you home first," he relented finally, knowing arguing with her would waste precious time.

"Promise me you'll see a doctor after," she whispered, her eyes searching his face desperately.

He looked away, unable to meet that trusting gaze. "Haan." (Yes.)

They got into his car, the leather seats immediately stained with his blood. As he drove with one hand, his jaw clenched against the pain, Ragini sat rigidly beside him, her eyes never leaving his wound, her dupatta still pressed against it, her entire body radiating distress.

---

At Pratap Mansion

The tension in the air was suffocating, thick enough to choke on.

Naveen paced the entrance hall like a caged tiger, his movements jerky with barely contained fury and fear. "She never stays out this late!" he growled, his fists clenching and unclenching. "She's not answering her phone, and she sent the driver back hours ago—!"

Before he could finish his tirade, harsh headlights suddenly flooded the entrance, cutting through the darkness.

Randheer's black car screeched to a halt with aggressive force.

The moment Ragini stepped out beside him, looking disheveled and shaken, with blood—someone's blood—on her dupatta, Naveen saw red.

Pure, blinding red.

"YOU—!"

Without thinking, without restraint, Naveen charged forward like a bull and grabbed Randheer's collar viciously, shoving him back with all his strength.

"What the hell did you do to my sister?!" he roared, his face contorted with rage and fear. "What the fuck happened?!"

"Bhai, stop!" (Brother, stop!) Ragini tried desperately to intervene, pushing between them. "He saved me—"

"I don't care! He had NO right to be with you!" Naveen barked, his voice cracking with emotion. "No right to take you anywhere! No right to—"

Siddharth and Navya rushed out at the commotion, Navya's pregnant form moving as quickly as she could.

"Bhai, calm down," (Brother, calm down,) Siddharth tried to reason, grabbing Naveen's shoulder. "Let her explain—"

But Naveen was shaking with uncontrollable rage and fear, the kind that came from love pushed to its breaking point. "I'll kill you, Randheer! If you touched her, if you hurt her, I swear I'll fucking kill you!"

Randheer had been silent all this time, absorbing the rage, the accusations, standing perfectly still despite the throbbing pain in his arm.

But now—his patience snapped like a wire pulled too tight.

His dark eyes locked onto Naveen's with such deadly coldness that even Naveen faltered slightly.

"Shut up, Naveen," he said, his voice dangerously low, each word dropping like stones into still water.

Everyone fell silent.

The entire courtyard seemed to hold its breath.

Randheer's next words cut like the sharpest blade, each one designed to wound, to create distance, to destroy something beautiful before it could fully bloom.

"I have zero interest in your sister," he spat, his tone venomous with calculated cruelty. "Absolutely none. I saved her because I didn't want anything wrong to happen to her—because unlike you, I was actually there when she needed help. That's it. Nothing more."

The world seemed to stop spinning.

Time froze.

Ragini froze.

His words hit her like physical blows—sharp, cruel, and utterly shattering. Each syllable felt like a dagger to her heart, to every tender feeling she'd begun to harbor for him.

Her face drained of color, her eyes going wide with shock and devastation so profound it hurt to witness.

Randheer turned on his heel, ready to leave before he said something else, before he weakened, before he saw the destruction in her eyes.

But before he could take another step, Ragini reached for him, her hand trembling.

"Thakur Sahab—"

He yanked his wounded arm away before she could touch him, the motion harsh and rejecting.

His glare was merciless, empty, designed to hurt.

"Stay away from me," he warned, his voice like ice scraping across her heart. "Don't wait for me. Don't look for me. Don't think about me. I am not for you. We are not meant to be anything. Understand?"

With that final, devastating rejection, he walked away, his figure disappearing into the night, leaving nothing but the echo of his cruel words and the scent of blood.

Ragini stood motionless, frozen like a statue, as she watched his car disappear into the dark night, taillights fading like dying stars.

Her heart screamed for him, cried out, begged him to come back, to take back those terrible words.

But he had already left.

And she remained standing there—the girl who had glimpsed paradise, only to have it torn away.

Her devotion met his walls.

Her light crashed against his darkness.

Will fate bring them back together?
Or will this rivalry, this pride, this stubborn denial destroy them both before they can find each other again?
Will Ragini's heart survive the devastation?
Will Randheer realize what he's lost before it's too late?
To know more, keep reading...

HER DEVOTION, HIS OBSESSION

By,
Gauri "गौरी"

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