Randheer found himself back at the temple garden the next morning, but this time, a storm raged inside him. His usual composed stride had vanished, replaced by a silent urgency he neither acknowledged nor accepted.

His sharp gaze cut through the misty dawn, settling on the familiar spot beneath the old peepal tree.

Empty.

Again.

His jaw locked. The unsettling feeling in his chest-one he refused to name-intensified.

It was fine. She might be late.

He lowered himself onto the stone bench, his fingers tapping against his knee. His eyes stayed fixed on the temple steps, his ears straining to hear the soft jingling of anklets that never came.

Minutes stretched into an hour.

She still didn't come.

His fists curled, the veins in his hands tightening under his skin. A muscle in his jaw twitched.

Maybe she was busy.
Maybe she would come tomorrow.

Clutching onto that weak assumption, he rose and left.

But the next morning, before the sun had fully risen, Randheer was already in the temple garden. Leaning against his car, arms crossed, gaze pinned to the entrance.

Still... she never arrived.

This time, he didn't sit back.

This time, his patience snapped.

Sliding into the driver's seat, he revved the engine and sped toward her college, his frustration growing with every turn. But when he reached, the answer remained the same-

No sign of her.

Morning turned into noon. Noon faded into evening. The sun dipped behind the horizon, yet still no sign of her.

A deep scowl settled onto his face, and without a second thought, he pulled out his phone, dialing his most trusted source.

"Find out why Ragini Pratap Singh hasn't been attending college."

The silence on the other end stretched for only a moment before his man spoke.

"Sir... Ragini Pratap Singh has locked herself in her room for the past few days. She hasn't stepped out, not even for meals."

His grip on the steering wheel tightened.

"Why?"

"Unknown, Sir. But the staff says she hasn't been talking much either."

Randheer exhaled sharply through his nose, his jaw ticking as he closed his eyes, head tilting back against the seat.

She was avoiding him.
She was hurting.

And for the first time in his life, the thought of someone suffering because of him left a bitter taste in his mouth.

His fingers twitched, itching to dial her number. To hear her voice.
To command her to step out of that damn room and face him.

But then...

The memory of her tear-streaked face slammed into him.

She had looked so small that morning. So fragile.

And he had shattered her.

His throat tightened, an unfamiliar discomfort settling in his chest.

Randheer Singh Thakur was a man who built empires, crushed enemies, and made the world bend to his will.

But right now...

Right now, he was the one waiting.

A whole week passed.

Every morning, Randheer showed up at the temple garden. He would sit at his usual spot, his posture relaxed, his expression unreadable-pretending.

Pretending that he wasn't waiting for the girl who had disappeared from his world.

But with each passing day, his patience wore thinner.

His anger built.

By the time the second week rolled in, his emotions were a brewing storm, his temper at its breaking point.

He had given her space.
He had tolerated her absence.
But no more.

Randheer Singh Thakur was never a man to sit back and suffer in silence.

If she wouldn't come to him-

Then it was time for him to go to her.

And this time...

She wouldn't escape.

Pratap Mansion – Midnight

The Pratap Mansion was engulfed in silence. The soft glow of moonlight filtered through the ornate windows, casting long shadows across the marble floors.

Inside one particular room, Ragini sat curled up on the cushioned window seat, her knees pulled close to her chest.

The night was eerily quiet, but inside her, a storm raged.

Her fingers absentmindedly traced over the healing wounds on her wrist. The faint scars left by the shattered bangles still stung, but they weren’t the ones causing her pain.

It was him.

His rough voice. His sharp words. His piercing gaze that had once been filled with something she thought was warmth but had turned into something cold. Unforgiving.

"I am not interested in you!!"

Her heart clenched as she recalled those words, each syllable slicing through her like a blade.

But then why… why did his absence ache more than his presence?

Why did she keep expecting to see him every morning in the garden?

Why did she keep hoping that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t mean what he said?

A tear slipped down her cheek, and she quickly wiped it away.

"No, Ragini. You cannot be this weak."

She forced herself to stand, shaking away the pain. Throwing all his sketches away that she drew in this entire month, missing him!!

But just as she was about to step back toward her bed—

THUD.

A loud noise echoed from outside her window.

Her breath hitched, heart pounding in her chest.
Slowly, she turned toward the source of the sound.

And then—

Her entire world stopped.

Because standing outside, in the dead of the night, was him.

Randheer Singh Thakur..
Her Thakur Sahab!!

A Few Minutes Earlier – Outside Pratap Mansion

Randheer sat in his black BMW, his eyes locked onto the dimly lit balcony of Ragini’s room.

He had been waiting in the shadows for almost an hour, watching.

Waiting.

For what? Even he wasn’t sure.

Maybe for a glimpse of her.

Maybe to see if she was really fine.

Or maybe because he had lost his damn mind, and nothing else seemed to make sense anymore.

His fingers drummed against the steering wheel impatiently. He had tolerated her absence for far too long.

Not anymore.

With a deep exhale, he pushed open the car door and stepped out, his heavy boots crushing the gravel beneath him.

The guards patrolling the outer walls of Pratap Mansion were of no concern to him. He had his ways. He could storm inside like a king if he wanted to.

But tonight, he wasn’t here as Thakur Randheer Singh.

He was here as a man who needed to see her.

And so, instead of taking the front gate, he walked toward the side of the mansion, his eyes fixed on the balcony above.

He rolled his shoulders, calculating the climb. And without another thought, he grabbed onto the carved railing and pulled himself up.

The rough stone scraped against his palms, but he didn’t care.

Within seconds, he had reached the balcony, his boots landing soundlessly on the floor.

And then—he knocked.

Loud enough to get her attention.

The moment her face appeared at the window, his heart did something unfamiliar.

It stilled.

She still looked damn mesmerizing—enough to make his heart lurch, enough to steal the very breath from his lungs.

Her long, silky hair cascaded over her delicate shoulders, strands falling loosely across her back, a few rebellious ones framing her pale face. A face that once radiated innocence and mischief… now dull, haunted.

She stood at the threshold, frozen, her presence delicate yet devastating.

A light pink short kurta pajama draped over her small frame, the once lively color appearing faded against her lifeless form. The soft fabric clung to her slender arms, slightly wrinkled, as if she had been curled up somewhere for too long—untouched by the outside world.

But it was her face that gripped him.

Her cheeks bore the silent evidence of countless tears, faint streaks trailing down to her jaw, drying in their path. Her lips, usually full and pink, were now pale and slightly chapped. But it was her eyes that stopped him cold.

The very eyes that once gleamed with defiance, that had once held the power to challenge him— now sunken, empty, dim.

And then, they landed on him.

A moment of stillness stretched between them—an eternity packed within a second.

Randheer felt something inside him snap.

His fists clenched, his muscles tightened. A slow, dangerous burn crept through his veins.

She was hurting.
She had suffered.
And he had let it happen.

His jaw ticked, his breathing grew heavy, but he didn’t move. Couldn’t move.

Because, for the first time in his life—

Randheer Singh Thakur was staring at something he might not be able to fix.

Her eyes, wide with shock, locked onto his.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The air between them was thick. Charged.

Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, she spoke.

“Thakur Sahab?”

Her voice trembled—whether from shock or something else, he wasn’t sure.

But Randheer didn’t answer.

He simply stood there, taking her in.

She looked different.

Paler. Tired. Eyes red, lips dry.

His gaze flickered to her wrist—the same wrist he had bruised in his rage. The bandages were gone, but the faint scars remained.

His fists clenched.

He had done that.

A wave of something unfamiliar—something ugly—washed over him.

But instead of apologizing, he did what he always did.

He covered his emotions with coldness.

“You locked yourself in here for a whole month,” he stated, voice firm. “Why?”

Ragini flinched, startled by his bluntness. “I-I had exams coming…”

“Don’t lie to me.”

His sharp voice cut through the air, making her swallow hard.

She looked away, unable to meet his gaze. “I didn’t want to see you.”

Randheer’s jaw tightened. “Why?”

A bitter laugh escaped her lips as she turned back to him, eyes glistening.

“Why, Thakur Sahab? Maybe because you made it very clear that I mean nothing to you?” she snapped, surprising even herself.

Randheer went still.

For the first time, it wasn’t her voice that held innocence.

It was her words that cut deep.

His grip on the railing tightened as he took a step closer. “And yet, you cried for me.”

Ragini froze.

Her breath hitched as he leaned in, closing the distance between them. His voice, deep and low, sent a shiver down her spine.

“I hurt you,” he murmured, gaze flickering to her wrist again. “But you still cried… for me.”

Her lips parted, but no words came out.

Randheer’s fingers curled at his sides. He was so close to breaking.

To admitting that the past month had been hell for him too.

That every damn morning, he had waited.

That no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get her out of his head.

That she—this silly, stubborn girl—had done something no one had ever done before.

She had made him feel.

But instead of speaking, he did what he did best.

He hid behind his arrogance.

“You can keep pretending, Miss Pratap,” he murmured. “You can lie to yourself all you want. But you and I both know the truth.”

She frowned. “What truth?”

Randheer leaned in until his breath brushed against her skin.

“The truth that no matter how much you try to stay away from me…” His fingers barely ghosted over her wrist before he whispered—

“…you will always come back.”

Ragini’s heart pounded.

She wanted to deny it. To push him away.

But deep inside, she knew—

He was right.

And the worst part?

So did he.

The air was thick with tension, so much so that even the gentle night breeze couldn’t ease it. Ragini’s fingers curled into the fabric of her dupatta as she stared at the man in front of her.

Randheer Singh Thakur.

The man who had barged into her life like a storm. The man who had shattered her illusions, crushed her innocence, and left her bleeding—both inside and out.

And now, after a whole month of silence, of distance, of trying to erase him from her existence—he was here.

Uninvited. Unapologetic. Unstoppable.

Standing on her balcony, speaking words that tangled with her heartstrings, making her question everything she had been trying to believe.

His words echoed in her mind.

"You will always come back."

Her pulse quickened.

No. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” she whispered, stepping back.

Randheer’s jaw tightened. His eyes darkened, and for a second, she saw something in them—something raw, something possessive.

But then, it was gone. Masked beneath his usual arrogance.

“You don’t have a choice, Miss Pratap.” His voice was calm, but his stance told a different story.

Ragini swallowed hard. “Why?” she forced herself to ask. “Why are you here? What do you want from me now?”

Randheer exhaled sharply, running a hand through his already tousled hair. What did he want?

He should have stayed away. He should have let her be.

But every single day of the past month had been hell.

Waking up with the memory of her teary eyes. Imagining her silence. Wondering if she was fine—if she was still the same girl who used to look at him with that damn innocence in her eyes.

He had told himself she would forget him.

He had told himself he would forget her.

But neither had happened.

So here he was.

“You disappeared,” he said, his voice dangerously low. “I don’t like that.”

Ragini’s heart twisted painfully.

“You don’t like it?” she repeated, letting out a bitter laugh. “Randheer Singh Thakur doesn’t like when something doesn’t go his way?”

Randheer’s eyes flashed with warning. “Careful, Ragini.”

But she wasn’t afraid tonight. She was too hurt to be afraid.

“Or what?” she challenged, stepping forward. “You’ll break my bangles again? You’ll yell at me? Humiliate me? Tell me once more that I mean nothing to you?”

Her words hit him harder than he expected.

Randheer inhaled deeply, his fingers twitching at his sides.

For the first time, he realized—she wasn’t just sad.

She was angry.

At him.

And for some reason, that realization sent an unfamiliar ache through his chest.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” he admitted, his voice softer now.

Ragini scoffed. “Congratulations, then. Because you did.”

The air between them grew heavier, the silence stretching.

Randheer took a step closer. “Ragini—”

“Please leave.” Her voice trembled slightly.

Randheer stilled.

She had never told him to leave before.

Even when she was upset, even when she was scared—she had never pushed him away.

But now?

Now she was drawing a line.

And for the first time in his life, Randheer Singh Thakur felt something dangerously close to panic.

“I’m not leaving,” he stated, his tone final.

Ragini clenched her fists. “Why?”

He didn’t answer.

Because he didn’t know.

All he knew was that walking away from her tonight felt… wrong.

So instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out something small, something delicate.

A tiny, gold bangle.

Ragini’s breath hitched.

Her bangle. The one that had shattered when he had grabbed her wrist in his anger.

“You kept it?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Randheer didn’t reply. He simply took her hand, sliding the new bangle onto her wrist with surprising gentleness.

Ragini stared at him, too stunned to pull away.

“What are you doing?” she asked, voice unsteady.

Randheer’s thumb brushed against the faint scars on her wrist. His eyes met hers—intense, unreadable.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice rough.

And for the first time…

He wasn’t lying.

By-GAURI

VOTE COMMENT & FOLLOW ✨

THANKS FOR READING!!