Pratap Mansion - Ragini's balcony Midnight.

Ragini’s breath was shallow, her heart slamming against her ribs as she stared at the man before her.

Randheer Singh Thakur.

The storm in her life. The one who had shattered her, made her question everything—and yet, the only one who could pull her back from the abyss.

He stood still after sliding the bangle onto her wrist, his rough fingers lingering against her skin as if testing something.

The air between them crackled.

She wanted to pull away. She should pull away.

But she didn’t.

Instead, her fingers trembled as they grazed the smooth gold, the weight of it far heavier than it should have been.

Why does he always do this?

Break her apart only to put her back together—piece by piece.

Her throat felt tight as she whispered, “You don’t get to do this, Thakur Sahab.”

Randheer’s jaw clenched at the softness in her voice.

“I don’t get to do what?” he asked, his voice dangerously low.

Ragini met his gaze, her own eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

“This,” she gestured to the bangle. “You don’t get to hurt me and then pretend to fix me.”

Randheer exhaled sharply, as if her words had struck something deep within him.

“I don’t pretend,” he muttered. “I never pretend.”

Ragini laughed bitterly. “Really? Because you said you don’t care about me, remember? You said I meant nothing. That you weren’t interested.”

Randheer took a step closer.

Ragini took a step back.

But the railing behind her stopped her escape, and suddenly, he was too close.

Too overwhelming.

His scent—intoxicating. His presence—suffocating.

Ragini forced herself to lift her chin, to not let him see how much he was breaking her all over again.

“Why are you here?” she whispered.

Randheer stared at her, his eyes darker than the night itself.

For a long moment, he said nothing.

Then, finally—his voice a hushed storm—

“Because you stopped coming to me.”

Ragini’s breath hitched.

She wasn’t prepared for that.

Her fingers dug into the railing behind her as she tried to keep herself steady, but her world was already tilting.

Randheer continued, his gaze locked onto hers.

“You stayed away for an entire month, Ragini.” His voice was slow, deliberate. “You stopped coming to the temple garden. You didn’t even look my way. You just… vanished.”

Ragini swallowed hard, gripping the bangle on her wrist. “That’s what you wanted, didn’t you?”

Randheer’s jaw tightened. “Is it?”

Her lips parted, but no words came out.

Because she knew the truth.

If he truly wanted her to stay away, he wouldn’t be standing in front of her right now.

He wouldn’t have spent every single day of the past month waiting—watching.

He wouldn’t have held onto this bangle, as if it were a piece of her he refused to let go of.

Something in Randheer’s gaze shifted, like a battle raging within him.

Then, in a single breath—

“I don’t like being ignored.”

Ragini let out a soft, humorless laugh. “That’s what this is about? Your ego?”

Randheer’s expression darkened. “Don’t test my patience, Ragini.”

“Or what?” she challenged, her voice trembling slightly. “You’ll hurt me again?”

Silence.

A silence so thick, so suffocating, that it made her skin prickle.

Randheer didn’t move. Didn’t say a word.

Then—so quietly, it was almost a whisper—

“I already did.”

Something shattered inside Ragini.

Because the way he said it—it wasn’t a threat.

It was regret.

Her heart clenched painfully, her fingers curling into fists. “Then why are you here?”

Randheer’s hand twitched at his side. He looked at her—really looked at her.

At the way her eyes were red-rimmed, her lips chapped from biting them too much.

At the way she was trying so damn hard to hold herself together, even though she was already falling apart.

And for the first time, he realized—

She wasn’t the only one breaking.

So was he.

Without thinking, he reached for her hand.

Ragini stiffened. “What are you—”

But his grip was firm, his calloused fingers brushing against her skin.

“I don’t know,” he muttered. “But I can’t seem to stop.”

Her breath caught.

And for the first time, she wasn’t sure if she wanted him to.

Ragini’s pulse pounded beneath her skin as Randheer held her hand. His grip was neither forceful nor weak—just enough to keep her in place, as if he was afraid she’d disappear again.

She should have pulled away.

She should have.

But her body betrayed her.

She stood frozen, caught in the storm of his presence, her heart waging a war against her mind.

Randheer’s thumb brushed against the fresh wounds on her wrist—the places where her glass bangles had shattered. His fingers stiffened when he felt the small cuts. His gaze dropped to her hand, his lips pressing into a thin line.

So, he noticed.

A bitter smile played at the corners of her lips. “What? Surprised?” she asked, her voice quieter than she intended.

Randheer’s jaw clenched.

He wasn’t surprised. He was furious.

But not at her.

At himself.

At the fact that he was the reason behind the wounds on her delicate skin. The reason she had disappeared. The reason she was looking at him now with those hollow, tear-brimmed eyes.

“You’re careless,” he muttered, his grip tightening slightly.

Ragini’s breath hitched, but she forced a laugh. “And you’re heartless, Thakur Sahab.”

Randheer flinched. It was subtle, almost unnoticeable, but Ragini caught it.

For a man who ruled his empire with an iron fist, who commanded fear with just his presence—her words had affected him.

Good.

She wanted him to feel it.

Feel even a fraction of what he had made her feel that night at the temple garden.

She pulled her hand from his grasp, her fingers curling into a fist. “Why are you really here, Thakur Sahab..?” she demanded, dropping the formality.

Randheer met her gaze, his dark eyes burning into hers.

“I told you,” he murmured. “You stopped coming to me.”

Ragini’s breath caught in her throat.

He said it so simply, so easily. As if that was all the reason he needed.

Her heart twisted painfully. “And what did you expect?” she whispered. “That I’d keep running to you, even after you—”

She stopped, swallowing the lump in her throat.

Even after you broke me?

Randheer took a step closer.

Ragini stepped back.

Her back met the wall, trapping her between cold concrete and the man who had shattered her.

Randheer lifted his hand, his fingers hovering just above her cheek. He didn’t touch her, but the heat of his palm was enough to make her shiver.

His voice was low, quiet. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me, Ragini.”

A bitter laugh slipped past her lips. “And yet, you made sure I would be.”

Randheer closed his eyes for a brief second, as if trying to contain something raging inside him.

Then, his hand finally made contact—his fingers brushing against her cheek, tracing the faint tear stains that she had tried so hard to hide.

Ragini stiffened, her breath catching.

Her entire body screamed at her to move, to push him away.

But she couldn’t.

Because for all the fire in his touch, there was also something else—something she had never seen before.

Guilt.

Regret.

Randheer exhaled sharply, his thumb pausing just below her lower lip. His touch was rough, calloused, and yet—so unbearably gentle.

It was almost cruel.

Because for a man who had sworn he didn’t care, he was looking at her like she was the only thing that had ever mattered.

Ragini’s heart slammed against her ribs.

“I hate you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“No, you don’t!!” His voice was low yet commanding, each word a declaration as his lips pressed against hers with bruising intensity. The force of his claim sent a tear slipping from the corner of her eye, a silent protest her voice refused to make.

That tear.

A single drop of her sorrow gliding down her soft cheek.

And it shattered something inside him.

Randheer Singh Thakur, a man who had never cared for another’s pain, suddenly found himself faltering. His cold heart clenched as guilt wrapped around him, unfamiliar and unwelcome.

He let out a slow, shaky sigh and leaned closer—not to take but to feel. His warm breath fanned over her damp skin, making Ragini’s lashes flutter shut. Her entire body went rigid, her fingers gripping the fabric of her dupatta so tightly that her knuckles turned white. She was struggling, trapped between the wall and the man who had always been her storm.

Yet, he didn’t move away.

Instead, he did something far more dangerous.

He kissed her tear.

His ice-cold lips landed on her heated cheek, sucking in the salty drop as if claiming even her sorrow for himself. The unexpected sensation sent a violent shiver down her spine, her body betraying her in ways she didn’t understand.

Her lips parted on a silent gasp.

Her chest heaved as her heartbeat spiraled out of control.

And her tears continued to fall.

Not out of pain.

But out of something new. Something terrifying.

Randheer pulled away just slightly, his dark gaze searching her face as if trying to read what she wasn’t saying. The air between them pulsed, thick with something neither of them could name.

And then, he stepped back.

The loss of his touch was instant.

Cold.

Ragini sucked in a sharp breath, her fingers digging deeper into her dupatta, as if the fabric could hold her together when her entire world was spinning.

“I heard you are getting married…”

His words cut through the silence, rough and unreadable.

Ragini’s brows furrowed. Even she didn’t understand why his voice carried that strange edge, why it felt heavier than the mere curiosity it should have been.

Still, she straightened, pushing back everything she felt moments ago.

“Yes, I am,” she replied, her voice steady despite the turmoil raging within her. “And it’s none of your business.”

She turned to leave, desperate to put distance between them, but before she could take a step—

He grabbed her wrist.

A sharp gasp left her lips as he yanked her back, her body colliding against his chest before he spun her and pinned her against the cold wall.

His grip on her shoulder tightened, possessive.

“It is my business.”

His voice was low. Dangerous. Laced with something dark and unrelenting.

Ragini swallowed hard. “Why? Will you stop me from marrying?”

A cruel smirk tugged at his lips, but his eyes—they held something else. Something wild.

“No,” he murmured, “but I’ll make a mark that won’t fade. A mark that will scream to the world that you are mine.”

Before she could react, before she could even comprehend his meaning—

He leaned in.

His lips ghosted over the sensitive skin of her neck, warm and teasing, before his teeth sank into her flesh.

“Ah—Thakur Sahab!” Ragini cried out, her fingers pushing against his chest, but he didn’t move.

Didn’t stop.

Didn’t waver.

He bit down harder, his lips sealing around the mark he had just made, his tongue soothing the sting just as quickly.

A low chuckle rumbled from his throat when he felt her tremble beneath him.

Her breathing was ragged.

Her heart was pounding.

She was weak against him, just as he wanted.

Randheer pulled back, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “You shouldn’t hate me.”

Ragini’s throat was dry, but she forced herself to speak. “And why not?”

He turned his gaze back to her, his expression unreadable.

“Because if you do…” he leaned in slightly, voice a rough whisper, “you’ll never be able to stop thinking about me.”

Her breath hitched.

Her chest ached.

Her eyes burned—but she refused to let him see her break again.

So, she did the only thing she could.

She lifted her chin, her voice cold. “Don’t flatter yourself, Thakur Sahab.”

Randheer smirked.

But she knew that smirk.

It was a mask.

A shield to hide something even he wasn’t ready to admit.

Without another word, he turned and reached for the door. His fingers curled around the handle, but before he stepped out, he glanced at her over his shoulder.

His dark eyes locked onto hers.

“You’ll see, Ragini,” he murmured, his voice like a slow-burning promise. “Hate has a funny way of turning into something else.”

Her stomach twisted. “No way…” she whispered.

His smirk deepened.

“No?” he mused. “Accept it or not—I hate you.”

But even as she spat those words, she knew.

She knew she was lying.

Randheer Singh Thakur had already left his mark.

And no matter how much she tried, no matter how much she fought—

She wasn’t sure she would ever be able to erase it.
Not from skin but from mind...