That Evening, Pratap Mansion

The grand hall of Pratap Mansion was unusually tense that evening. Naveen sat on the large sofa, his face impassive, but his sharp eyes flickered with something dark and unreadable. Next to him, Siddharth leaned back with his arms crossed, a deep frown creasing his forehead. Navya, on the other hand, kept stealing glances at the door, worry clouding her features.

They had been waiting.

Waiting for Ragini.

Naveen already knew where she had gone—his sources had informed him that Ragini had met Randheer Singh Thakur. The very thought made his blood boil, but years of discipline kept his face unreadable. He wouldn't let his emotions control him, not yet.

Navya and Siddharth, however, were unaware of this detail. They were merely concerned about Ragini's whereabouts, growing more anxious with each passing second.

Finally, the sound of a car pulling into the driveway broke the silence.

The main door opened, and Ragini stepped inside.

She didn’t glance at anyone. She moved mechanically, her steps slow and her shoulders slightly hunched, as if weighed down by an invisible burden. Her usually bright, expressive eyes were dull, lost in thought.

Without acknowledging their presence, she turned towards the staircase, intending to retreat to her room.

But Naveen’s patience had already thinned.

The moment he saw her, he stood up, his deep voice slicing through the air.

"Where were you, Ragini?"

His words pulled her out of her trance. She halted at the foot of the stairs and turned, finally facing them.

For a moment, she hesitated, then answered in a neutral tone, void of hesitation or deceit.

"Bhai… I wanted to apologize on your behalf, so I went to Thakur Sahab."

A pin-drop silence followed her confession.

Siddharth and Navya exchanged glances—shocked.

Naveen, however, didn’t react immediately. His jaw clenched, his fingers curling into fists at his sides.

"Who asked you to?" His voice, sharp and laced with frustration, echoed through the hall.

Ragini flinched.

She had never been scolded before—not by her family, not by anyone. She had been cherished, protected, loved. But today… today not just her brother, but even he—her Thakur Sahab—had yelled at her.

Her heart clenched.

She wanted to find a corner, to curl up and let the tears she had been holding back spill freely. But instead, she stood there, head lowered, guilt gnawing at her insides for disobeying her brother.

"Ragini," Naveen continued, his tone still firm. "Didn’t I tell you to stay away from him? Didn’t I ask you to break all contact with him?"

His words hit her like sharp daggers, but she barely reacted.

With a small nod, she replied, "Bhai, I don’t have any contact with him. I just… I just went to see him because I knew he frequently goes there."

Naveen narrowed his eyes. "Are you tackling him?" His voice was lower now, laced with suspicion.

Before she could answer, he sighed and softened his tone. Stepping closer, he cupped her cheek, his rough palm warm against her cold skin.

"Ragi, listen to me," he murmured, gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I care about you. A lot. I don’t want you around him." His voice dropped to a whisper, his fingers lightly grazing her temple. "He is dangerous, baccha. You don’t know the kind of man he is… You can’t even imagine..."

Ragini closed her eyes for a brief moment. Dangerous?

She knew Randheer was dangerous. She had felt his wrath today, heard the raw venom in his voice. She had seen the darkness lurking beneath his cold, emotionless mask.

And yet, a part of her wasn’t afraid of him.

She should be.

She needed to be.

But she wasn’t.

A lump formed in her throat, but she swallowed it down, nodding obediently. "Ji, Bhai… May I go back to my room?"

Naveen sighed. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "Go," he said gently.

Ragini turned away, her expression unreadable as she ascended the stairs.

Everyone in the room watched her retreating figure, her silence heavier than any argument she could have given.

Navya’s gaze lingered on her before she looked at Naveen. "She seemed… off." She uttered.

"She’s just tired," Naveen dismissed, though his own expression was grim.

Siddharth exhaled deeply. "Bhai, I think Ragini and—"

"I don’t think," Naveen interrupted, his voice unwavering. "I know Randheer Singh Thakur is not someone I will ever let my sister be around."

No one argued with him.

But somewhere upstairs,
Ragini entered her room, the weight of the day pressing heavily on her fragile shoulders. The door closed behind her with a faint thud, locking the outside world away. Her heart pounded painfully against her ribcage as she walked straight to the window and slumped down on the cold marble floor.

Her small, delicate hands trembled as they clutched the edge of her dupatta. She glanced down at her wrist—still red, bruised, and pierced by the tiny shards of her broken bangles. Drops of blood had dried against her soft skin, leaving faint crimson trails.

As her eyes fixed on the deep marks, the memory of Randheer’s harsh grip flashed in her mind—the anger in his eyes, the venom in his voice, the way he had twisted her wrist as if she meant nothing to him.

Her heart shattered all over again.

Tears brimmed in her eyes before spilling down her cheeks in silent agony.

A sob escaped her trembling lips, breaking the quiet night. She pressed her palm to her mouth to muffle the sound, her chest heaving with the effort of holding back the storm inside her.

"Why... why did you hurt me like this, Thakur Sahab?"

Her small heart ached—an ache so raw, so unfamiliar that she barely knew how to endure it.

For twenty-two years, Ragini Pratap Singh had lived a life sheltered from pain. The little princess of the Pratap Mansion had never known what heartbreak felt like.

But now…

Now she knew what it felt like to cry over a man who had entered her life a mere two weeks ago—

A man who had pushed her away with his own hands…
Yet somehow... he had become the center of her entire world.

She hated him...
But she couldn't stop thinking about him.

Her fingers curled tighter around the dupatta covering her wrist.

"Why do I feel like... I'm yours more than I'm ever mine?"

Tears continued to fall silently, soaking into her dupatta. The ache in her chest grew sharper, as if each tear carved a deeper wound into her fragile heart.

The soft sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway.

Ragini's entire body stiffened. She quickly wiped her tears with trembling fingers, wrapping her bloodied wrist in her dupatta to hide it.

A gentle knock followed.

"Ragini…"

It was Navya.

Ragini forced a smile onto her pale lips, her voice trembling. "Come in, Bhabhi."

Navya stepped inside, carrying a plate of food. Her soft eyes immediately scanned Ragini's face.

"Princess, have your dinner."

"Thank you, Bhabhi." Ragini tried to smile, but the spark that usually lit up her face was nowhere to be found.

Navya’s gaze lingered on her. She could see the swollen eyes, the redness around her nose, the forced curve of her lips.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly, sitting down beside her.

"I'm fine, Bhabhi," Ragini answered quickly, lowering her eyes.

Navya’s heart clenched. She knew Ragini too well to be fooled by her false assurance.

"Don't feel bad about what Pratap Ji said... He loves you more than anything."

Ragini looked up with watery eyes but forced a careless smile.

"I know, Bhabhi… Bhai only cares for me. I’m not upset."

But Navya could see through her.

"She’s not upset with her brother... but she’s shattered because of someone else."

"Are you sure?" Navya asked, her fingers softly caressing Ragini's hair.

Ragini nodded, though the lump in her throat made it harder to breathe.

"Okay… Have your dinner and sleep on time." Navya stood up, still concerned.

As she walked to the door, Ragini suddenly spoke, her voice soft and hesitant.

"Bhabhi… I'll have my finals in a few months… I won't be attending classes for a few days. Please tell Bhaiya… and—"

Her voice broke slightly.

"Ask someone to bring my meals to my room."

Navya's heart ached at the defeated tone in her voice, but she smiled softly.

"Okay, baccha. Study well."

She left quietly, closing the door behind her.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Ragini’s smile vanished.

Her trembling fingers locked the door.

Then, she slowly slid down to the floor, leaning against the wall.

The moment her body hit the cold marble, the dam inside her broke.

Her silent tears turned into sobs—painful, heart-wrenching sobs that shook her small frame.

"Why did you push me away, Thakur Sahab...? Why are you making me cry when I don't even know what love is?"

Her whole life, Ragini had lived in a protected world—one where no one had ever raised their voice at her, let alone hurt her.

But in just two weeks…

Randheer Singh Thakur had turned her world upside down.

And the most painful part was...

Even after everything he'd done—
Even after he'd shattered her heart—
She still couldn’t stop herself from wanting him.

Meanwhile, across the city, Randheer sat alone in his office.
The air in Randheer’s office was suffocating. Heavy. Silent.

He sat in his oversized leather chair, one hand resting on his desk while the other clutched his temple. The soft hum of the air conditioner did nothing to cool the fire burning inside his chest.

His mind was a battlefield—chaotic, restless, filled with her.

Ragini.

"Damn her..."

He had spent years building his empire, ruling with an iron fist, commanding fear and respect in equal measure. Nothing—no one—had ever unsettled him. He had never cared for anyone outside his blood family.

Yet now, one innocent, sheltered girl had invaded every corner of his mind.

And it was driving him insane.

His dark eyes flickered toward his bleeding hand. His fingers twitched, recalling the sharp sting of broken glass piercing his skin.

Her bangles.

His grip had been too harsh. Her soft wrist had been too delicate for his ruthless hold. The moment she had flinched, the way her eyes had watered—he had felt an unfamiliar pull inside him.

But instead of stopping, he had pushed her away.

"You don’t mean anything to me."

His own words echoed in his ears, but for the first time, they felt like a lie.

Because if she really meant nothing—
Then why the hell was he still thinking about her?

Randheer gritted his teeth and grabbed the whiskey glass on his desk, gulping the burning liquid down in one go.

But even the alcohol couldn’t drown out the memory of her soft voice.

"Please, Thakur Sahab..."

His grip tightened around the glass, and in the next second, he hurled it across the room. It crashed against the wall, shattering into pieces.

Much like his control.

This girl was ruining him!!

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