That Evening, Pratap Mansion.

The Mansion was again cloaked in silence. Untill the call cut the heavy atmosphere.

"Bhabhi..."
It was Siddharth. Who returned home after two long tiring days of business trip. And as he stepped in,his first call was Navya.

He stepped further calling her. Urging to see her. Welcomed by her. Like she always did.
Blessed him. Fed him his favourite. Talked for hours about his work and many more.

But today..he was welcomed by darkness in the entire Mansion rather than her smile. He hesitated for a moment before stepping further in his own house.
His heart instincted for some bad omen. But refusing it he walked in calling for her tensely.

“Bhabhi..”

Siddharth’s voice cracked the stillness of the hall. His eyes darted across every corner of the house, until his gaze finally caught Naveen descending the stairs, his face pale, shoulders slumped as though the weight of guilt itself rested upon them.

Without wasting a moment, Siddharth rushed toward him, voice trembling with unease.

“Bhabhi? Kahan hai vo? Vo… theek toh haina?”
(Where is Bhabhi? She’s fine, right?)

Naveen’s breath hitched. He looked away, sighed heavily, and nodded faintly. But his silence screamed louder than his words.

Siddharth’s voice rose again, desperate this time.
“Kahan hai Bhabhi?”

“Apne ghar…” he replied softly.

Siddharth’s brows knitted in disbelief.
“Kahan Bhai? Be clear! Ye hai Bhabhi ka ghar! Kahan hai vo? Mujhe fikr ho rahi hai unki!”
(Where, bhai? Be clear! This is her home! Where is she? I’m worried for her!)

Naveen swallowed hard. His voice cracked when he finally spoke.
“Sid… Navya theek hain… Apne pita ke ghar par hain…”
(Sid… Navya is fine… she’s at her father’s house…)

Siddharth froze. His heartbeat quickened.
“Achanak vahan kyu? Kuch kaha aapne? Kya kaha aapne, Bhai? I know, Bhabhi ese hi bina karan achanak vahan nahi jaayengi! Kya kaha aapne meri Bhabhi ko?!”

(Why suddenly? Did you say something? What did you say to her, Brother? I know she wouldn’t leave like that without a reason! What did you say to my Bhabhi?!)

Naveen’s lips quivered; guilt shadowed his eyes.
“Navya… mere sath nahi rehna chahti… isliye…” he choked, voice breaking mid-sentence. “Isliye vo chali gayi…”

(Navya doesn’t want to live with me anymore… that’s why… that’s why she left.)

Siddharth stared at him in disbelief.
“Aur… aapne koshish nahi ki? Unhe rokne ki?”
(And… you didn’t even try? To stop her?)

Naveen’s eyes lowered in shame.
“Vo meri baat sunne ko taiyaar nahi thi… Anjaane mein hum dono ke beech bahut sari misunderstandings ho chuki hain…”

(She wasn’t ready to listen… unknowingly, so many misunderstandings have come between us…)

Siddharth exhaled sharply, stepping closer, his eyes burning.
“Hui nahi hai, Bhai… Aapne banayi hai khud! Par khair, aap toh manenge nahi apni galti, haina?”

(It didn’t just happen, Brother… you created them yourself! But of course, you’ll never admit your mistake, will you?)

Naveen clenched his fists, but Siddharth didn’t stop. His voice grew harsher-the suppressed anger of years spilling out.

“Sach kahun na Bhai toh Bhabhi ne bilkul theek kiya… Aap na bahut selfish ho, Bhai… Jo sirf apne baarein mein sochta hai…”
(To be honest, Brother, Bhabhi did the right thing. You’re selfish… you only think about yourself.)

“Siddharth…” Naveen warned, but Siddharth’s tone had already hardened with defiance.

“Mera kehna pura nahi hua hai bhai! And you know what… Bhabhi deserves better than you!” he hissed, his eyes glistening. “Mai apni Bhabhi ke side hun… Vo jo karengi, mai unka sath dunga… na ki aapka!”

(I’m not done talking! And you know what… Bhabhi deserves better than you! I’m on her side… whatever she decides, I’ll stand with her — not you!)

With those final words, Siddharth turned to leave, his anger visibly trembling through his hands. But Naveen’s voice stopped him cold.

“Itni nafrat karte ho tum mujhse, Siddharth… Kiske karan? Us ladki ke liye?”
(You hate me this much, Siddharth… for what? For that girl?)

Siddharth’s jaw clenched as he spun around, eyes blazing.
“Bhai! Vo koi bhi ladki nahi thi! Vo mere liye sab kuch thi… aur aaj bhi hai! Shipra mera pyaar hai aur rahegi!” he roared, emotion tearing through his words. “Haan, aapke kehne par maine usse duri toh bana li… jo mai aaj tak nahi seh pa raha hun… par mere dil ke sabse kareeb vo humesha rahegi! Uske baarein mein ek shabd nahi…”

(Brother! She wasn’t just any girl! She was everything to me… and she still is! Shipra is my love, and she always will be! Yes, I distanced myself from her because you told me to- something I still can’t bear- but she will always remain closest to my heart! Don’t you dare speak a word against her!)

Naveen’s chest heaved, his own bitterness rising.
“Na tu samajhne ko taiyaar hai, na Ragini… Pagal ho chuke ho tum dono un Thakuro ke peeche!”
(Neither you nor Ragini are willing to understand… you both have gone mad behind those Thakurs!)

Siddharth’s lips curved in a painful smirk.
“Bhai, at least mujhe aur Ragini ko pyaar ki keemat hai… Jo aapko na hai, na kabhi thi! Tabhi vo aurat, jisne aapko toot kar chaha, aapse dur hai!”
(Bhai, at least Ragini and I value love-something you never did! That’s why the woman who loved you with all her heart is away from you now!)

“Siddharth…!”

Before he could finish, a sharp crack echoed in the silence. Naveen’s palm connected with Siddharth’s cheek.

Siddharth’s face turned to the side, his breath caught in his throat. The red imprint of Naveen’s hand spread across his cheek, stinging not just his skin but his soul. Naveen’s own hand trembled- he had raised it for the first time on his younger brother.

For a moment, both stood frozen. The air between them felt heavy, suffocating, like it carried all the unspoken pain of their broken family.

Naveen’s eyes shimmered with guilt. He opened his mouth but no words came out,only regret.

Siddharth’s lips quivered; he blinked away the tears that burned behind his eyes. Then, without a word, he turned and walked away- his steps echoing in the hollow silence of the house.

Naveen watched him disappear into his room… and then, as though his strength finally gave way, he sank onto the stairs.

He buried his face in his trembling hands. The silence of the mansion surrounded him, haunting him. His shoulders shook, and the  tears he was holding for too long slipped down his cheeks.

But this time…
Navya wasn’t there to wipe them away.
She wasn’t there to hold his hand, press a kiss to his temple, and tell him it would be okay.

All that remained was darkness.
Cold. Empty. Unforgiving.
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.
.
.

Thakur Villa.

The Villa was alive in it's rhythm,after a week. That night, the Thakur family left Jaisalmer and when they reached back Morning rays were spilling all around.

Ragini had already drifted into a deep sleep in the car, her head resting on Randheer's shoulder,and not to disturb her sleep. He didn't move his shoulder throughout the journey.

When they finally reached Thakur Villa, Without a word, he leaned closer, carefully sliding one arm beneath her knees and the other around her shoulders and carried her inside.

Her head rested against his chest as he climbed the stairs. By the time he placed her gently on the bed, she had curled up on instinct, hugging her teddy bear as if it were her safe little world.

Downstairs, the rest of the family freshened up, had their breakfast, and soon drifted to sleep after the long journey. The house fell quiet.

By the Evening everyone woke and gathered for dinner. Ragini, however, remained glued to her teddy.

Randheer stood by the doorway, hands in his pockets, his gaze fixed on her. For a man like him, who ruled kingdoms with a glare, it was strange how one sleeping girl could hold his world still.

A soft smirk curved his lips as an idea sparked. He quietly took out his phone, walked closer, and bent a little to capture her. One photo, then another, and another. Each click held a moment he did not know he needed.

Her hair was scattered over the pillow, and the faintest smile played on her lips.

Randheer selected the most perfect one, the one where more drama queen and set it as his wallpaper.

For a long moment, he simply stood there, phone in one hand, eyes moving between the glowing screen and the real girl,his wife lying before him.

Morning time. Thakur Villa.

Ragini stood in front of the mirror, her face scrunched up in irritation. Her eyes narrowed on the reflection of Randheer standing behind her, looking completely fresh and smug, his arms folded as he knotted his tie tighter.

She took a sigh leaving the comb on table and elbowed him sharply in the stomach.

Randheer let out a dramatic groan, clutching his stomach as if she had stabbed him. “Ouch! My delicate heart, Princess..!” he muttered theatrically.

Ragini glared at him, placing her hands on her waist.

“Natak to kariye mat jyada..Aap par Bilkul shobha nahi deta...Hum praso raat ko Jaisalmer se nikle, kal subha pahuch gaye... aur aap... mujhe ab jaga rahe hain... 24 ghante baad!”

(You don't suit Drama..so please don't try..We left Jaisalmer last night, reached Jaipur by morning... and you are waking me up now... after 24 hours!)

Her tone was a mix of disbelief and complaint, her voice rising adorably with every word.

She bit her lower lip and muttered to herself, pacing around the room.
“Hey Devi Maiya... mai apne sasural mein hoke 24 ghante so gayi... itna toh kisi janam mein nahi soyi thi... teen din ki neend hoti ye total... sab kya sochenge mere bare mein... Kumbhkaran... oh no!”

(Oh Goddess! I slept for 24 hours in my in-laws’ house... I’ve never slept this much in any lifetime... that’s like three days’ worth of sleep! What will everyone think of me now... Kumbhkaran... oh no!)

Randheer leaned against the dressing table, biting back his laughter. The more panicked she got, the more amused he became. Her hands flew in the air as she muttered to herself like a scolding teacher.

Before she could spiral further, his calm voice cut in, “Jaan...”

“Kya hua?” she snapped, spinning around, her messy hair bouncing along with her.

She jabbed her finger at his chest. “Sab aapke karan hua! Utha nahi sakte the mujhe? Nahi... maza aayega na aapko, jab sab mujhe bolenge Kumbhkaran Kumbhkaran!”

(It’s all your fault! You couldn’t wake me up? No, of course not... you must be enjoying this, right? Everyone will call me Kumbhkaran because of you!)

Randheer’s lips twitched. He pretended to sulk, muttering softly, “Koshish ki thi maine uthane ki...”
(I did try to wake you up...)

Her eyes widened. “Sach?”

He nodded, fighting a smile. “Haan.”

Before he could complete, Ragini pushed him back and yelled,
“Jhuthe! Jhuth bolte hain aap! Kyun aisa kiya aapne! Ab sab kya sochenge! Anuj aur Ajay mera mazaak banaenge! Dadi sa aur Bua sa hasengi! Chachi sa phir kuch bolengi!”

(Liar! You’re lying! Why did you do this! Now what will everyone think! Anuj and Ajay will make fun of me! Dadi sa and Bua sa will laugh! And Chachi sa will taunt me again!)

Her voice rose higher with every name she listed, her hands flailing in the air dramatically as if the entire Thakur Villa was conspiring against her. She faked a little cry, plopping down on the chair with a pout. “Sab meri izzat mitti mein mil jaayegi…”
(My respect is ruined… completely!)

Randheer just stood there, his arms crossed, watching her meltdown with a mix of amusement and disbelief. Too calm with the thought. Koi meri jaan ko kuch bol kar to dekhe..

Her face puffed in annoyance, her eyes sparkling with childish drama, and for a moment, he forgot everything else.

Then suddenly, before she could react, he walked forward and lifted her effortlessly in his arms.

Startled, Ragini gasped, clutching his shoulder. “Kya kar rahein hain! Chhodiye!”
(What are you doing! Leave me!)

But instead of listening, he carried her straight to the bed and gently placed her down. Hovering over her, his eyes softened, glinting with a hint of mischief. He lowered his head slowly, about to capture her lips when Ragini quickly placed her hand on his shoulder, stopping him midway.

“Nahi.”

Randheer blinked, confused, his brows knitting together as he looked into her eyes.

“Kya dekh rahein hai... hatiye!” she scolded, sitting up with sudden energy. Holding his collar, she glared at him.
(What are you staring at... move!)

“Koi na, aapki pet nahi hoon mai! Jab mann kiya utha kar yahan se wahan kar liya, aur jab mann kiya kiss kar liya!”
(I’m not your pet! You can’t just pick me up whenever you want or kiss me whenever you feel like!)

Randheer’s lips curved into a pout, half annoyed and half amused by her refusal. He sat back slightly, his dark eyes glinting with mischief while she continued to rant.

Ragini adjusted her pallu dramatically and raised a finger. “Aur specially… subah! No kisses! Meri lipstick kharab ho jaayegi… it costs tem thousand! So please…”
(And especially… in the morning! No kisses! My lipstick will get spoiled… it costs ten thousand! So please…)

She waved her hand like a queen giving her royal command and turned away, ready to get off the bed. But before she could even take a step, Randheer grabbed her wrist and pulled her back again.

This time, he didn’t wait. His grip tightened slightly as he drew her close, capturing her lips in his without a second thought.

Ragini’s eyes widened in shock. She tried pushing him away, her hands on his chest, but the moment his lips deepened the kiss, her resistance faltered. The air between them turned warm and electric until Randheer finally pulled back, his lips curling into a smug smirk.

“Bas das hazaar? Aisi das hazaar aur mangwa dunga.”
(Only ten thousand? I’ll order more like that for you.)

He stood up casually, adjusting his cufflink as if nothing had happened.

Ragini, still catching her breath, glared at him furiously. She grabbed the nearest pillow and hurled it straight at him.
“Gande! Meri permission ke bina mujhe kiss kar liya!”
(You’re bad! You kissed me without my permission!)

Randheer stood a few feet away, trying to hold back his laughter, until the second pillow hit him right in the face.
Ragini grinned at her small victory, her eyes sparkling mischievously.

“Thakur sahab…” she called softly, tilting her head innocently.
“Mar toh nahi Gaye na?”
(You didn’t die, did you?)

“Ragini…” he hissed, taking hurried steps toward her, his voice thick with warning.

But Ragini was already standing on the bed, clutching another pillow like a weapon.
One after another, she hurled them at him with full force.

The room turned into a war zone, pillows flying everywhere, sheets tangled, and laughter echoing off the walls. Ragini’s saree pleats fluttered around her as she jumped up and down, laughing uncontrollably.

Randheer, so composed and precise, was utterly defeated by one tiny woman and her army of cushions. He tried to dodge, tried to grab her wrist, but she was too quick.

After a few minutes of chaos, he finally caught her hand mid-swing.
In a swift pull, Ragini lost her balance and tumbled onto the bed, landing beneath him.

Her laughter still hadn’t faded. She laughed so hard that tears glimmered in her eyes. Her soft giggles filled the space between them, and for a moment, Randheer just stared at her, completely lost.

Her face glowed, her smile so bright it almost melted the steel in his heart.
His hand moved gently, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. His voice dropped low, almost a whisper.

“Jaan… may I kiss you?”

Ragini froze mid-laugh. Her lashes fluttered, shyness curling her features as she looked up at him.
“Pehli baar thodi kar rahe hain…”
(It’s not like you’re doing it for the first time.)

Randheer’s lips curved into a faint smile.
“Taking permission this time,” he murmured, his fingers brushing along her waist.
“Please… just say yes.”

Ragini bit her lip, shyly nodding. The faintest blush rose to her cheeks.
Randheer smiled, that rare, heart-melting one, before lowering his head and capturing her lips in his.

The kiss was slow, tender, and full of warmth. His hand gripped her waist, pulling her closer, while her fingers slid up to his neck, clutching his collar lightly. Randheer’s other hand reached up to loosen his tie when suddenly-

“Bhaiya!!” Anuj’s voice came crashing from the other side of the door.

Ragini’s eyes flew wide open. Randheer froze mid-kiss.

The silence lasted barely two seconds before Ragini puffed her cheeks in irritation and whispered, “Iski bhi setting karwani padegi… warna kisi ka romance nahi hone dega.”
(We’ll have to fix his love life too… otherwise, he’ll never let anyone else romance in peace.)

Randheer smiled and pressed a soft kiss on her forehead. Ragini’s cheeks turned a delicate shade of red. She caressed his face gently, her touch lingering as she spoke with a playful smile.
“Aap jaiye… mai apni lipstick theek kar leti hun.”
(You go ahead… I’ll just fix my lipstick.)

But before he could go away. She wiped his lips with her thumb. Both of them smiled shyly. Their cheeks turning crimson.

Until Anuj’s impatient voice echoed through the door, again.
“Bhaiya yaar… darwaza kholo na!”
(Brother, come on… open the door!)

Randheer sighed heavily, clearly annoyed at the interruption, and stood up.
“Aa raha hun.”
(I’m coming.)

He quickly straightened his tie, while Ragini adjusted her saree pleats and rushed to the dressing table to reapply her lipstick.

The moment Randheer opened the door, Anuj barged in, his steps hurried as if he had something urgent to say. But the instant his eyes landed on Ragini, standing by the mirror, he froze.

He plastered on a fake smile and spoke quickly, trying to act casual.
“Arey Bhabhi… aap jaag rahi ho.”

Ragini turned, narrowing her eyes slightly.
“Kya matlab?”

Anuj scratched his head awkwardly.
“I mean… you didn’t go downstairs. Ma and Nani sa were asking about you.”

“Oh… I’ll go down now,” Ragini replied softly and walked past him, leaving the room.

As soon as she disappeared down the corridor, Anuj’s face turned serious.
“Bhai… that Rao… the mastermind behind Bhabhi’s kidnapping… we gathered every information about him..he'll be here by next week.”

Randheer’s expression hardened instantly. His jaw clenched, and that familiar fire returned to his eyes.
“Great,” he muttered coldly. “We’ll show him who rules the land of Rajasthan.”

Meanwhile, in the Pratap Mansion, neither Siddharth came for breakfast nor did Naveen. Siddharth had already left for college, and Naveen remained locked away in his study. He didn’t even wish to step out of the house, afraid that if he did, even the faint essence of Navya would fade from the walls that still carried her warmth.

He sat at his desk, papers scattered before him, but his mind refused to focus. His gaze stayed fixed on his phone wallpaper- a photo of him and Navya, taken on their anniversary. Her smile, so soft and full of life, now felt like a memory slipping through his fingers.

He ran a hand over his face, sighed deeply, and dialed her number once again. The call rang and rang, but she didn’t answer. He tried again- and again-until the screen went dim, mocking his helplessness.

After a long pause, he exhaled heavily and made another call- this time to her mother.

In the Singh Mansion, Navya's mother, Bhavana Ji was busy in the kitchen when her phone began to ring. Seeing Naveen’s name flash on the screen, she hesitated for a second before answering.

“Pranam Masa…” Naveen’s voice came, low and uncertain.

Bhavana only hummed in response, her tone guarded.

There was a brief silence before he spoke again.
“Navya kahan hai?”

Bhavana’s eyes drifted toward the closed door of Navya’s room. She wiped her hands on her saree and said softly, “Apne kamre mein hai.”
(She’s in her room.)

“Theek hai na vo…”

Bhavana didn’t reply immediately, only nodded silently, her throat tightening.

Naveen understood her silence and spoke again, his voice faintly breaking.
“Masa, unki appointment hai aaj doctor ke paas… aap please unhe le jaaiyega.”
(Masa, she has an appointment with the doctor today… please take her there.)

“Hum le jaayenge,” Bhavana agreed quietly.

There was another pause before Naveen’s voice returned, quieter this time.
“Koi… sawal nahi hai aapke? Koi shikayat?”
(Don’t you have any questions? Any complaints?)

Bhavana took a deep breath. When she spoke, her voice trembled between restraint and pain.
“Hain na… bahut shikayat hai. Aapko pata hai, Navya ki khushi sirf aapke saath hai… phir kyun jaane diya use khud se door?”
(Of course, I have many complaints. You know very well, Navya’s happiness lies only with you… then why did you let her go away from you?)

Her words lingered on the line, heavy and aching, leaving Naveen in a silence that spoke louder than any answer he could ever give.

Naveen lowered his head, his voice heavy with guilt.
“Aapki beti ka dil dukhaya hai maine… uske baad kis muh se rokta…”
(I’ve hurt your daughter’s heart… after that, how could I stop her?)

He paused for a moment, his tone softening as determination replaced regret.
“Par vada karta hun, Ma, aapse… unhe mai wapas laaunga. Aur ek baar phir vo khush hongi. Bharosa kariye mera.”
(But I promise you, Ma… I’ll bring her back. And she’ll be happy again. Trust me on this.)

Bhavana’s eyes welled up, her voice trembling as she replied,
“Dua hai meri… aapki baat sach ho.”
(My prayers are with you… may your words come true.)

She had barely spoken those words when Balraj, her husband, appeared at the kitchen doorway. His stern eyes fixed on her, and before she could even react, he snatched the phone from her hand.

“Kaun hai?” he asked sharply, his voice filled with authority.

“Damad ji…” she whispered softly, lowering her gaze.

He gestured for her to get back to work and walked away, the phone still in his hand. Bhavana stood frozen, worry flickering in her eyes.

Balraj stepped into the living area and placed the phone to his ear. His tone changed, calm yet commanding.
“Khammaghani, Raja Sa.”

Naveen straightened instantly, recognizing the voice.
“Pranam, Baba Sa.”

“Khush raho, sada sukhi raho,” Balraj said in his usual stoic manner.

Naveen hesitated for a moment.
“Babasa… Navya…”

“Haan, vo theek hai,” Balraj replied curtly. “Lekin kya aapko pata hai, Damad Ji… Aapki behen Ragini… use kuch dino pehle kidnap kar liya gaya tha. Randheer Singh Thakur ke mahal se hi.”

(Yes, she’s fine. But do you know, Naveen… your sister Ragini was kidnapped a few days ago. From Randheer’s mansion itself.)

Naveen’s jaw tightened, but his voice stayed calm.
“I don’t care for Ragini anymore, Baba Sa. She’s with her husband. I just hope he can protect her, keep her happy. And if he doesn’t… I have no problem keeping my sister with me,if she decides to walk back to me..”

He paused, his tone softening once again.
“I only wanted to talk to Masa about Navya. Please make sure, till she’s there, you keep my wife healthy and happy. Ghanikhama.”

As the call ended, Naveen lowered the phone slowly, his reflection catching in the glass table before him.
He clenched his fist so tightly that his knuckles turned white. His jaw hardened, eyes dark with an emotion between rage and resolve.

“Randheer Singh Thakur…” he muttered under his breath, each syllable dripping with restrained fury.
.
.
.
Back in Singh Mansion.

Her alarm had barely rung when Navya already sat up, tying her hair neatly into a braid.
She smoothen her pallu, her reflection staring back at her in the mirror.

She gathered her documents with trembling hands, aligning the files perfectly. Taking a deep breath, she whispered softly to herself -
“You can do this, Navya. You have to.”

Then moving her hand over her belly she spoke. "For your child.."

And then with precise steps she walked down the stairs.

As she descended the stairs, her mother looked up and smiled softly.
“Navya, you’re awake, dear. Come, have breakfast.”

Navya hesitated before walking closer. Her fingers nervously twisted the edge of her file as she stood before them.
“Baba sa... Dada sa...” she began, voice trembling but resolute.
“I’ve decided... I want to work as a designer. I’ve already sent my old designs and a résumé to a company this morning.”

The smile on her mother’s face faded instantly. Her father, Balraj Singh, lowered his cup of tea with a sharp clatter. He stood up, fury clouding his face.
“Are you mad, Navya?” he thundered, his voice echoing across the hall. “My daughter will never work outside! Have you forgotten who you are? What people will say?”

Navya’s breath hitched. Her hands clutched her file tighter as his words pierced through her chest. But before she could even defend herself, Dada Sa folded his newspaper and looked up- his calm, authoritative tone slicing through the tension.

“Enough, Balraj.”

His eyes shifted to Navya, soft yet firm.
“You can do whatever you wish, child. No one will stop you+ not when your Dada Sa is still alive.”

His words carried the weight of pride and defiance.
Then he looked straight at his son. “And not even your father will deny you this right.”

Balrsj’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing as Niranjan ji continued, his voice calm yet final.
“I’ll ask my lawyer to clear your divorce papers with Naveen soon. You deserve peace.”

The silence that followed was suffocating.
Navya lowered her head, eyes glistening. Her mother gently touched her shoulder.
“Come, have breakfast first, child.”

Navya nodded silently and followed her, though every bite felt heavy. Her father sat motionless, fury simmering in his eyes. As soon as Dada Sa left the room, Balraj's hand gripped his phone tightly. He walked out hurriedly, His knuckles turned white as he dialed a number, muttering through clenched teeth-
“She’s crossing her limits... I won’t let her ruin our name.”

Meanwhile inside the Mansion. Navya already read how disturbed her father was just with the thought of letting her go out and work. He was always this way.

Navya kept looking at the door even after he disappeared until her mother touched her shoulder.
She startled and looked at her.
Her mother smiled and spoke,
"Aapka interview kab tak ho jaayega? Aap ek call kar dena hume..Aaj hum aapke sath Doctor ke pass jayenge.."

But Navya kept looking at her with confusion.
"Aapko kisne btaya..Aaj meri appointment hai.."

Bhavana ji froze for a moment before she finally spoke.
"Damad ji.."

Navya rose her one brow. Mock filling her tone.
"Unhe badi parvah hone lagi achanak.." She rolled her eyes and spoke.
"Kya jarurat thi aapko mere sath jaane ka kehne ki..Khud toh kabhi gaye nahi mere sath.."

Her mother sighed and caressing her hairs she spoke.
"Beta.. Aap dono ek baar baat kar lijiye.."

"Nahi Ma.." Navya cut her. "Mujhe unse koi baat nahi karni..Ab ye tay hai.. Mera aur Naveen Ji ka talak hokar rahega. Isi mahine.." she rose up from her seat and walked out.

Outside the mansion she settled into the passanger seat and told the address to the driver.

After an, Navya stood outside the gleaming glass building of Avenir Designs Pvt. Ltd. Her heartbeat quickened.

Her green chiffon saree fluttered slightly in the breeze- simple, neat, yet dignified. A faint line of sindoor still adorned her hairline, her mangalsutra resting over her chest, symbols of a bond she wanted to break yet keep it close.

She took a deep breath, placing her hand protectively over her belly, a silent promise to the life growing within.

Inside, she sat in the waiting area, file clutched tightly in her lap.
Her palms were cold, her throat dry.
Every second stretched like hours until a voice called out-

“Mrs. Pratap?”

Her eyes lifted. A woman in formal attire stood at the doorway of a cabin.
Navya’s legs felt weak, but she steadied herself. For her child. For her dignity.

She walked to the door, knocked gently, and spoke in a soft voice.
“May I come in, Sir?”

Inside, a man- tall, well-dressed in a grey suit, looked up from his laptop. His hair was perfectly styled, his glasses framing sharp, intelligent eyes. Aryan Mehra, the creative director of the firm, exuded charm effortlessly.

He smiled, a polite yet curious smile that reached his eyes.
“Of course. Please, have a seat.”

Navya walked in quietly, keeping her gaze lowered. She sat gracefully, placing her file in front of him. She didn’t speak. Didn’t smile. Not even a polite “good morning.”

Aryan raised an eyebrow- intrigued. There was something about her silence that drew his attention.
The woman before him looked delicate, almost fragile, yet her posture carried an air of restrained strength.

He flipped open her file and spoke with a hint of amusement,
“Good morning, Mrs... Pratap, is it?”

His words snapped her out of her thoughts.
She blinked rapidly and straightened. “G-good morning, Sir. I’m sorry, I—”

Aryan chuckled softly. “It’s alright. First interview, I assume?”

She nodded once, her eyes fixed on her folded hands.

He continued, glancing through her designs. “I must say, your work is impressive. These sketches... they’re not amateur. You have a professional touch.”

Navya finally looked up — her gaze sharp yet steady.
“Those designs,” she began calmly, “are from years ago. The first few, from my teenage days. The last ones... I made while managing household work. They may not be perfect, but they are mine. You can’t judge a person’s talent by a few old drawings, Sir... but I can try again. I can learn.”

Aryan leaned back in his chair, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
“I like that confidence, Navya.”

Navya’s expression hardened immediately.
“With due respect, let’s keep this professional, Sir. I’m Mrs. Pratap.”

The firmness in her tone made him pause. For a moment, Aryan just stared — intrigued, a little surprised, and perhaps... impressed.

He cleared his throat. “My apologies, Mrs. Pratap. I’ll go through your portfolio again and get back to you soon. You may leave for now.”

Navya stood, adjusting her pallu. “Thank you, Sir.”
Her voice was composed, her eyes distant. She turned and walked out — each step echoing with quiet strength.

Aryan’s gaze followed her until the door closed behind her. He leaned back in his chair, a faint smile curving his lips.

“Mrs. Navya Pratap Singh,” he murmured under his breath.
“Sounds interesting... but looks even more beautiful.”

He smirked to himself- unaware that the woman who had just left has the power to turn his world if he dares to lay a finger on her.

Thanks for reading.
Do leave a star, comment and follow..❤️

54~ Ragini punishes Randheer.

Ragini hurried down the stairs when she collided with someone at the turn.

Before the man could steady her, she quickly stepped back. "Sorry... sorry..." she muttered, lifting her gaze.

But the instant her eyes met his, her words faltered. A stranger. A new face in the Thakur Villa-someone she hadn't seen before.

"Ji... aap-" she began, but the heavy thud of familiar footsteps echoed behind her.

Randheer.

In a heartbeat, she felt her nerves ease as he came to stand beside her, his presence shielding her like a wall.

The man smiled at Randheer and bent to touch his feet. Randheer placed a firm hand on his head. "Bataya nahi tha tum aaj aane wale ho, Vyom."

Vyom. The name Ragini heard for the first time.

"Haan bhai... bas kaam khatam ho gaya toh aa gaya." Vyom's gaze slid past him, landing on Ragini. His lips curved into a sly smile. "Aur ye?"

Randheer's jaw tightened, but his tone was steady. "Tumhari bhabhi. Meri patni... Ragini."

Vyom bent as if to touch her feet, but instead of the brief respectful gesture, his fingers lingered-brushing against her skin in a way that made her insides twist uncomfortably.

Ragini instantly stepped back, her breath uneven. "Nahi... iski zarurat nahi hai," she said quickly, her voice soft but firm. She moved closer to Randheer, her hand clutching his arm as if seeking refuge. "College ke liye late ho jaayenge... jaldi chaliye, breakfast kar lete hain."

Randheer gave her a curt nod. Turning to Vyom, his tone hardened just a fraction. "Tum bhi fresh ho jao, Vyom. Saath mein nashta karenge."

Vyom gave a careless shrug. "Vo sab toh theek hai, bhaiya... par bhabhi aur bas college? College khatam hone ke baad shaadi kar lete, kam se kam. Itni kya jaldi thi.."

Randheer's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Fresh ho aao. Vyom.."

Vyom smirked, stepping past them, but stopped right beside Randheer. He leaned in, his words a venomous whisper.

"Koi nahi mila tha duniya mein, bhai? Apne ma-baap ke katil ki beti se shaadi kar li... aisa kya dekh liya isme?"

His smirk lingered, waiting for a reaction.

Randheer's eyes darkened, his glare sharp enough to cut through stone. But he didn't speak-not yet. Silence carried more power than words, and his silence was a storm waiting to break.

Randheer turned on his heels, his grip firm yet protective around Ragini's hand, pulling her gently but decisively toward the dining table. Ragini could sense the sudden shift in his aura-something sharper, heavier-but she chose not to break the silence, only letting her steps follow his.

At the dining table, everyone had already taken their seats. When Randheer and Ragini entered, all eyes naturally moved to them. They sat side by side, the air subtly changing with their presence.

Bua sa chuckled teasingly, "So you finally woke up, Ragini.."

"Bua sa..." Ragini pouted like a child, lowering her eyes with a soft blush.

Her innocence earned a round of smiles across the table. But then Dadi sa's calm, firm voice settled in, "Randheer, it has been almost two month since your wedding. And since you both performed the kuldevi pujan, it's time you take Ragini to her house for the Pagfera."

Ragini's face instantly brightened, her eyes sparkling as they lifted toward Randheer.
"Hum aaj hi jaayenge!!"

"Ek hafte baad.." Bua sa added teasing Ragini.

"Par ek hafte baad kyun?" She questioned.

Dadi sa stopped mid bite and said, "Good question.. Panditji se baat ki hai humne beta..Ek hafte baad muhurt hai.."

"Kya? Iske liye bhi muhurt.." at her cuteness everyone smiled. But Ragini's face turned dull.

Noticing her Dadi sa spoke, "Are dil chhota mat karo beta..ek hafte ki baat hai...Usse pehle shagun jaayega tumhare ghar tak aur ese bhi..Ghar jaane se pehle shopping nahi karni.."

Ragini laughed on her words. Turning her eyes on Randheer, who sighed but then gave a short nod in acknowledgment.

"I even have a lot of work in College today...I'll have to stay long there... come to pick me at 6. Sharp 6."

Ragini added innocently, without realizing the murmurs it could cause.

Randheer exhaled through his nose, a quiet sigh betraying his restraint, but he still nodded.

A few smiles circled the table at the scene-until a sharp voice cut through, slicing the warmth.

"Oh! So now Randheer Singh Thakur takes orders..."

Everyone turned as Vyom entered, his smirk heavy with mockery. Ragini stiffened, her eyes dropping instantly while her hand twitched nervously in Randheer's hold.

Vyom dragged a chair and sat down, his voice dripping venom. "Randheer Singh Thakur-taking orders from a mere college-going girl... who just happens to be the daughter, the sister, of his enemy. Tell me, is this house turning into a joke?"

The room fell tense. Ragini's fingers curled into her lap, discomfort pressing her gaze to the floor.

But Randheer's eyes lifted, dark and piercing, pinning Vyom with such intensity that the air seemed to thin.

Before Vyom could spew more, Chachi sa hurriedly rose, her voice overly sweet, "Oh, my son... you came back! Why didn't you inform us?"

But Randheer's voice cut through, deep and unyielding, before Vyom could even respond.
"Aaye theek kiya... par kise kitni izzat deni hai, ye bhool mat jao. Jiske baare mein baat kar rahe ho... woh tumse rishte mein badi hai. Aur meri patni hai. Jiske khilaaf ek shabd bhi... main sununga nahi."

The finality in his tone left no room for argument.

Without breaking eye contact with Vyom, Randheer pushed back his chair and stood. His hand clasped Ragini's tightly as he said low but firm, "Chaliye. Hume der ho jaayegi."

And with that, he led Ragini away, leaving behind an echoing silence and Vyom's simmering glare.

After Randheer and Ragini left, silence lingered in the hall for a moment. Then Chachi sa turned toward Dadi, her voice dripping with discontent, "Look, Masa... Randheer will now fight even with his own brother for that girl. No one ever dared such a thing before..."

Dadi sa's expression hardened. Her voice was calm but carried authority. "No one ever disrespected the daughter-in-law of this house the way Vyom just did. So the reply he got was suitable." With that, she rose gracefully and walked to her room.

One by one, the rest of the family dispersed, leaving only Nakul, Neeta, and Vyom behind.

Neeta's eyes, sharp and bitter, flicked toward Nakul. "Will you still stay quiet? Your son seems to have no importance in this family... no respect, no say."

Nakul's lips curved into a thin, almost cruel smile. "Does he have any quality to deserve importance?" His gaze shifted to Vyom, cold and unyielding. "It's better you stay under Randheer... learn from him, respect him. If he wills, he may give you atleast 20% of the share one day."

And with that blunt dismissal, Nakul turned and walked away, leaving his son and wife standing in the hollow silence.

Vyom's fists clenched at his sides, his jaw tightening as his eyes darkened with suppressed fury. "Main us Randheer ka ehsaan... kabhi nahi lunga. Kabhi nahi."

The venom in his words hung heavy in the air, the promise of a storm brewing inside him.

Vyom's words echoed like a vow, his anger simmering in the heavy silence.

Neeta's nails dug into her palm as she clenched her fist, her eyes narrowing with a quiet fire. She whispered under her breath, almost like a promise only she could hear,
"Ab mujhe hi kuch karna hoga in dono ka... Apne Bete ke liye.."

Her gaze lingered in the direction Randheer had gone, hatred and calculation mixing in her eyes

Then looking at Vyom she spoke.
"Jo is ghar mein 20 saal pehle hua..Vo nahi dohrand dungi Mai..ab uske liye kisi ki bhi jaan leni ho ya deni ho..Ek din us Randheer ki gaddi par tu hi baithega Mere sher.."

Both the mother son smirked.

Jaipur College, Morning 8 AM

The Jaipur sun was soft yet bright that morning. The air around the college buzzed with chatter, laughter, and hurried footsteps. Randheer's black BMW stopped near the main gate.

"Take care," he said in his usual commanding tone.

Ragini teased, setting her pallu. "Jo aagya.."

Shipra gave a faint nod, clutching her files close as Randheer's car pulled away. Ragini joined her group of friends, her laughter echoing through the courtyard. But Shipra... her laughter had long been stolen by a memory she couldn't forget.

She walked silently toward the staff room, her steps hesitant - her heart heavier than the folders she carried.

Every corner of this college reminded her of him.
Of Siddharth.

Her eyes flickered toward the administrative block where his cabin stood. The glass door was closed, the nameplate - Mr. Siddharth Pratap - shining in the morning light.

She turned away immediately, forcing her thoughts back to her duties. But no matter how many classes she took, how many assignments she checked, her mind refused to listen. It wandered - back to that night in Jaisalmer when she'd broken him with her words.

After that argument, she had shifted to another room in the haveli - one without the balcony. Every night, she sat in that dark room, her phone lighting up with his name... and yet she never answered. Never replied.

And Siddharth..he had left the next morning. Naveen had ordered him to leave for the U.S., and Siddharth, had obeyed. Unwillingly.

Hours passed. The day slipped into afternoon. Then evening.

Shipra finished her last lecture and leaned against the window of the staff room. The college lawn had quieted down; the sunlight had turned mellow. That was when she saw him - walking through the main gate, crisp shirt, sleeves folded, his expression unreadable.

For a moment, she couldn't breathe. Her lips curved faintly, involuntarily.

Siddharth.

He looked the same - and yet... harder. Colder. The playful warmth in his eyes was gone, replaced by a silence that screamed louder than words.

Gathering courage, Shipra picked up a file from her desk. "You're just going for a signature," she whispered to herself. "That's it."

But her heart betrayed her calm as she walked toward his cabin, every step dragging the weight of their unfinished past.

Then - there he was. Coming down the corridor, his gaze fixed ahead. For a heartbeat, she thought he'd stop. That he'd at least look. But he walked past her like she was a stranger.

No glance. No smile.
Just... silence.

Shipra froze mid-step, the ache rising up her throat.

"Mr. Pratap," she called softly.

He stopped. His shoulders tensed - and slowly, he turned. "Yes?"

Her voice quivered just slightly. "Umm... actually, this file... I need your sign on it."

He looked at her, eyes distant. "Send it with the peon, Miss Thakur. I'll sign it in my cabin."

He turned to leave.

But she wasn't ready for him to go. Not this time.

"Siddharth..."

He stopped again - this time his name came from her lips, and it hit him. She saw the flicker in his eyes, brief and raw, before he masked it behind indifference.

"You look tired," she said, softly. "Is... everything alright?"

His lips curled in a mock smile, one that didn't reach his eyes. "What a pleasant surprise," he said slowly, voice low, edged with hurt. "The Princess of Jaisalmer is concerned about me. What changed your heart, Princess?"

Her gaze dropped to the floor. "I just asked..."

But before she could finish, his hand reached out - firm, unyielding - and clasped her wrist, pulling her closer.

"Don't," he whispered, his voice trembling with controlled emotion. "Don't play this halfway, Shipra."

Her eyes widened. His breath was uneven, his grip tight but not painful - just desperate.

"I'm giving you one chance," he said, each word deliberate, his eyes locked onto hers. "If you want me in your life... say it. Right here. Right now."

She blinked rapidly, her throat tightening.

"Because if it's no," he continued, "I swear on you, I'll leave. This college. This city. Everything. And I won't turn back again."

Her heartbeat thundered in her ears as his words burned through her.

"But if it's yes..." His voice lowered, dangerous, aching. "Then I'll fight the world for you. I'm not that sixteen-year-old boy who once broke you... Today..If I step into your life again - I'll make you mine. Not halfway. Not in pieces. Entirely. Even if it costs me my life."

He leaned closer, his eyes stormy with emotion. "Because for me... it's you, or no one. Mark my words, Cherry."

Her name - the way he said it - tore something inside her.

She looked up at him, her lips parting, but no sound came out. Her pulse raced, her heart conflicted - between the guilt of her past and the love that never died.

And for the first time in years, she saw tears glimmering faintly in Siddharth's eyes.

He slowly released her hand - his warmth leaving her skin like a withdrawal of light - and stepped back.

"You don't have to answer today," he said quietly. "But remember, Shipra... I meant every word."

And with that, he walked away, leaving her standing in the empty corridor - heart trembling, eyes burning, and his scent lingering in the air like a memory she could never escape.

.
.
.

That night, Thakur Villa.

Ragini sat cross-legged on the bed, her back comfortably resting against the cushioned headboard. Dressed in an oversized T-shirt, her hair loosely tied in a bun, she scrolled through her phone with a childish grin. Every few seconds, a giggle escaped her lips - light, airy, and completely unbothered by the world.

Across the room, Randheer sat on the sofa near the study table, the laptop open before him. His fingers moved swiftly over the keyboard, the reflection of the screen lighting his sharp, serious face. He barely spoke, completely immersed in his work - except for those few fleeting glances he stole in Ragini's direction.

The clock struck midnight.

Without looking up from his screen, his deep baritone broke the quiet.
"Ragini... it's twelve. Sleep now."

She looked up instantly, her eyes wide and playful. "Sleep? Hukum sa, I already broke a world record by sleeping for twenty-four hours yesterday. How can you possibly expect me to repeat that feat again? My back's still sore from all that excessive sleeping!"

Randheer finally looked up, his brows twitching in mild disbelief. "Then at least study something. You've been glued to that phone for the last three hours."

She scrunched her nose, lowering her phone. "So do you! You've been glued to your laptop."

He tilted his head slightly, voice calm but firm. "I'm working." He turned the screen toward her, the spreadsheets and documents visible.

Unfazed, Ragini did the same, proudly turning her phone toward him. "And I'm watching Instagram reels!"

"That's not work," he said flatly.

"Did I say it was?" she shot back, blinking innocently.

Randheer exhaled deeply - the kind of sigh husbands give when they know they've already lost the argument but won't admit it. He closed his laptop, stood up, and walked toward her with measured steps. Before she could react, he swiftly snatched her phone from her hands.

"Anh! Thakur sahab!" she gasped, leaning forward. "Give me back my phone!"

Instead of answering, he walked toward her study shelf, plucked out her economics book, and placed it in her lap. "Why don't you bother watching this instead, Princess?"

Her lips fell open in disbelief. "No... I want my phone!"

"My answer," he said firmly, meeting her stubborn gaze, "is no. It'll stay with me till morning. At least then, you won't ruin your eyes watching that screen."

Ragini slumped back against the headboard, flipping the book open with exaggerated irritation. Her voice lowered into a mutter, just loud enough to reach his ears.
"Why does this man talk like a father of three children? We haven't even made any yet! Gosh... what else should I expect from a man in his thirties? These millennials are pure headache..."

Randheer's deep cough broke her little monologue. "I can hear you quite clearly, Princess."

Her head shot up, eyes glinting with mischief. "Oh really? Guess what? I wanted you to hear me, Mister Old Man! No-wait! Old Grumpy Uncle!"

His expression hardened, a dangerous smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "What did you just call me?"

Ragini folded her arms proudly, rising a little straighter. "Uncle. Old Grumpy Uncle. You behave like you're dealing with naughty school kids! And the way you talk-like one of those retired men giving morning-walk lectures! You're officially an uncle, Thakur sahab..."

"Oh, really?" His voice dropped lower, more commanding.

Before she could react, he moved. In just two steps, he was in front of her, towering and intense. His hand caught her wrist, firm but careful, pulling her closer until the air between them turned thick and warm.

Her heartbeat stumbled.

"Say that again," he murmured, his tone dipping to a husky whisper near her ear. "Or do I need to show you what else this old man can do?"

Ragini froze, her breath catching in her throat as his proximity stole every word she wanted to say. His breath brushed against her skin - hot, teasing, and way too close for her sanity.

Her voice trembled. "Th-Thakur Sahab...I-I didn't mean-"

Randheer's breath fanned softly against her neck as he leaned closer, his voice low and teasing. The warmth of it sent a shiver down Ragini's spine, her eyes fluttering shut. For a moment, her heartbeat filled her ears-
and then-

"Ahhh! Cockroach!" she shrieked suddenly, pushing him away with all her strength before scrambling up onto the bed like a frightened cat.

Randheer straightened, startled. "Where?"

"Downstairs!" she declared quickly, pointing toward the door with utter seriousness.

He blinked, his brow arching. "Downstairs?"

"Yes," she said, nodding innocently, "in the garden. I saw one there this morning. I just remembered, and I thought-well-you should ask someone to clean the garden before they find their way into our room."

A small, triumphant grin curved her lips.

Randheer's expression darkened into amused disbelief. "Very funny," he muttered, shaking his head as he walked back to the sofa and sat down.

Behind the safety of her economics book, Ragini smirked. "Just like you... the old man jokes..." she whispered under her breath.

But when she peeked over the book, her grin froze-because Randheer was already staring right at her, his gaze sharp and unreadable.

Their eyes met, and she gave an awkward little smile before hopping off the bed. "I think... I should clean my wardrobe. Since I'm not sleepy..."

The moment she pulled the wardrobe door open, an avalanche of clothes tumbled out, draping over her head and shoulders.

Randheer couldn't help it-he laughed. A deep, genuine laugh that filled the room with something warm and unspoken.

Ragini froze mid-motion, lips parted in shock. Then, slowly, she peeked at him through the pile of clothes.
"Why are you laughing?" she huffed, picking up a soft toy and throwing it straight at him. "Didn't you arrange them last time? Very bad, Thakur Sahab!"

He caught the toy with one hand, still chuckling. "Is that so? Then why don't you do it yourself today, Princess? Let's see how neatly you arrange them."

Ragini squinted her eyes, feigning irritation. "Obviously, I can't. That's why I ask you for help!"

"Help?" he repeated with mock offense, folding his arms. "That's a rather big word for what I do. I arrange everything-and you mess it up again."

"Whatever!" she said, placing her hands on her hips. "Now help me again. I can't do it alone."

Randheer let out a sigh of defeat-the kind he gave only to her-and stood. "Hopeless," he muttered under his breath, walking over.

Before she could protest, he scooped her up effortlessly into his arms and set her down on the bed. "Stay there," he instructed, in that commanding tone she secretly adored. Then, he began folding her clothes one by one, organizing them with the same precision he used in business meetings.

Ragini's eyes softened. She watched him silently for a few seconds-the tall, disciplined man who could make a war seem orderly, yet here he was... folding her clothes with patient care.

But of course, Ragini couldn't stay quiet for long.

She tiptoed toward his cupboard, a sly grin playing on her lips. Opening the door, she scanned the neatly arranged racks inside. "Thakur sahab..." she began sweetly, "can you give me a little more space here.. I might need it soon."

Randheer didn't even look up from where he was folding her dupattas. "For what?"

"I've ordered a few more dresses," she said casually, brushing her fingers across his neatly folded shirts.

His brows lifted. "Few more?"

"Hmm," she nodded innocently. "Just twenty-five pieces. I found them online. They were on sale! You should be proud of me-I saved money."

Randheer stared at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "Twenty-five is few?" he asked dryly. "I'm glad to know that, Princess."

Ragini giggled. "Please give me some space, na? Just a little."

"Sure," he replied, tone deceptively calm. "Why don't you throw me completely out of this room and take everything instead?"

Her lips curled into a teasing smirk. "The idea isn't bad, you know. After all, old men shouldn't sleep on couches-it might hurt their backs."

That earned a low chuckle from him. He turned slowly, the faintest spark glinting in his eyes. "Old men?" he repeated. "You really think I sleep on that couch every night, wifey?"

Her smile faltered a little. "W-what do you mean?"

He took a slow step closer, voice deepening with quiet amusement. "Come on, Princess. Don't pretend you've forgotten... sleeping right in my arms."

Ragini's breath caught. "I... I never asked you to! I never gave you permission!" she stammered, taking a step back. "You're... you're a cunning man. You come close to a cute, innocent girl like me without her permission!"

"Oh?" he murmured, cornering her easily, his tone teasing yet commanding. "Really, wifey?"

"Yes! And don't you ever dare sleep next to me again!"

Before she could take another step away, Randheer's hand shot out, his arm blocking her path as he pinned her lightly against the cupboard. His voice dropped to a low whisper near her ear.
"Don't those count as my rights... as your husband, hmm?"

His fingers brushed the side of her waist, tracing lazy circles that made her shiver.

"Th-Thakur Sahab... l-leave me..." she breathed, her cheeks burning crimson.

"Not tonight," he muttered softly, his lips hovering near her neck, his breath warm and intoxicating against her skin.

Ragini's pulse thundered. She tried to avert her gaze-until something red caught her attention inside his cupboard. Her brows furrowed.

"Wait-what's that?" she asked suddenly, pushing him slightly and peering inside. She reached in and pulled out a red one-piece dress tangled between his shirts.

Randheer straightened immediately, the trace of his smirk fading.

Ragini held the fabric from its corner, staring at him in disbelief. "What," she began, her voice rising, "is this doing in your cupboard?"

"Ragini..." he started, his tone careful.

She raised a hand, her eyes widening. "Whose is this, Thakur sa?"

"Ragini, listen-" Randheer began, but she cut him off sharply.

"Oh, now I know!" she exclaimed dramatically. "You're cheating on me, Mister Thakur! I knew it! You like girls in these short, revealing dresses, right? Wah, Randheer Singh Thakur!"
She pushed him away, fire blazing in her eyes.
"You were hiding someone else's clothes in here! I was such a fool to love you!"

Before Randheer could react, she gave him another shove, her voice trembling between anger and heartbreak.
"Why did you do this to me? What was so special about her? Why did you break my trust?"

Randheer sighed deeply, caught her wrists gently and said, "It's not like that, jaan. Just listen to me once-"

"I'm not letting you lie to me again!" she shouted, jerking free. She grabbed a bag from the couch and threw it toward him. "Pack my stuff! I'm leaving you right now!"

Randheer pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly. "Can I please say one word?"

"No-"

"It was for you."

Ragini froze mid-yell, eyes narrowing.
"What?"

"It was for you," he repeated calmly, voice soft. "I bought it before we went to Jaisalmer... when you were shopping with Bua and Dadi. Trust me, Ragini. I saw it and thought... my wife would look beautiful in it."

Her expression faltered. She glanced at the dress again, her anger now mixed with disbelief.
"You... bought this? For me?"

Randheer nodded.

A pause. Then suddenly-thwack!-she threw the dress right at his chest.

"You bought THIS for me?!" she yelled. "You actually imagined me in something like that? Hey Devi Maiya, what kind of man are you! Hawasi! Chee!"

Randheer raised his hands defensively. "It's not like that! I just... saw it and thought of my wife, obviously!"

But Ragini was in full dramatic mode.
"Take your hawas bhari soch and get out of the room!"

"Ragini-"

"I said, get out!"

Randheer gave her a pleading look. "I'm sorry, okay? You really want to throw your husband out? Where will I sleep then?"

"Good question," she replied coldly. "Downstairs. On the sofa. With the mosquitos."

He groaned. "Ragini, at least think of me being bitten all night-"

"Exactly," she cut in sweetly. "You'll realize your mistake better."

"Ragini.."

"Out!" she cut him off sharply, pointing to the door. "Get. Out. Of. The. Room."

"But Ragini, I just said-"

"I said get out!"

Randheer's shoulders dropped. "I'm sorry, Jaan..." he murmured, looking adorably guilty.

Randheer sighed deeply, a little dramatically, running his hand through his hair.
"Congratulations, Randheer Singh Thakur..." he muttered under his breath as he descended the stairs, his heavy footsteps echoing faintly in the silent haveli. "First night, you're kicked out of your bed. Second night, out of your own room. Happy married life, indeed..."

He looked around the dimly lit living area-the golden lamplight reflecting on the grand portraits, the silence thick and mocking. With a resigned sigh, he dropped himself on the long velvet sofa.
The couch was cold. He pulled the cushion beneath his head, and closed his eyes.

Upstairs, Ragini sat cross-legged on the edge of their massive bed, chewing her nails nervously. Her anger had long melted into guilt.
Her eyes wandered to the side table where the flickering lamp light glinted off her mangalsutra. She reached for it, her fingers gently caressing the tiny black beads.

"Zyada bura toh nahi kar diya na aaj?" she whispered to herself. "Bechare ko room ke bahar bhej diya..."
A moment later, her brows furrowed in mock annoyance. "Par galti bhi toh unki thi! Koi itni... itni ajeeb si dress khareedta hai kya!"

Then came her heart's soft reply, "Nahi Ragini... vo tere pati hain... pati-patni mein toh aisi baatein hoti rehti hain... vo toh sirf khareed kar laaye the, tujhe surprise dena chahte the."

Her voice softened further, filled with guilt and a little fondness.
"Par tu toh seedha unpe chilla padi... agar gussa ho gaye toh?"

She gasped slightly, holding her breath. "Nahi nahi... abhi jaake unhe bula leti hoon. Warna sach mein... mere itne handsome pati ko macchar kha gaye toh!"

Without wasting another second, Ragini jumped off the bed and ran down the stairs barefoot, her anklets tinkling softly in the stillness of night.

She reached the living room and saw him sprawled on the couch, one arm resting over his forehead. The faint lamplight fell across his face, highlighting his sharp jawline and soft, tired features.

Ragini's lips curved unknowingly. "Thakur Sahab..." she called gently. No response.
She tried again, louder this time. "Thakur Sahab... uth jaiye na..."

Still nothing.
Her eyes widened in mock horror. "Arey... mar gaye kya? Thakur Sahab?"

She leaned closer, whispering near his face, "Uthiye..."
Randheer turned lazily to the other side, his expression calm, teasingly unaffected.

Ragini placed a hand on her chest dramatically. "Devi Maiya... zinda hain, dhanyavaad!"
Then she bent down, frowning in irritation. "Aap toh jaag rahe hain mujhe pata hai. Itni gehri neend mein itni jaldi kaun sota hai!"

When he still didn't react, she pursed her lips, squinting her eyes mischievously-and pinched his arm.
"Thakur Sahab, uth jaiye na!"

Randheer didn't move, though the corners of his lips almost betrayed him.
With an exaggerated sigh, Ragini stood straight, muttering, "Theek hai... aap toh khud dekhiye kaise maccharon se ladte hain. Main toh ja rahi hoon!"

As her soft footsteps faded up the stairs, the room grew quiet again.
Then, slowly, Randheer opened one eye, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Pagal ladki..." he murmured, turning to his side and settling deeper into the couch, the faint smile refusing to leave his face as sleep finally claimed him.
Ragini reached back to their room, her steps quiet but hurried. The faint breeze from the open window made the curtains sway softly as she pulled open the drawer. Inside lay a small bottle of mosquito repellent cream. She picked it up with a sigh and grabbed a warm blanket from the bed.

"Ab gussa rehne do, par maccharon ke hawaale nahi kar sakti unhe..." she muttered under her breath, shaking her head at her own stubbornness.

Carefully, she walked down again - her anklets making a faint sound against the marble floor. The living area was dimly lit, bathed in the soft glow of the antique lamp near the couch. Randheer lay there, fast asleep, one hand resting near his face, his hair slightly tousled. He looked calm... too calm for a man supposedly upset.

Ragini sat down beside him, her eyes softening as she watched him breathe slowly. The once-rigid Thakur who could silence a room with his gaze looked utterly peaceful in sleep - almost boyish.

She opened the cap of the cream quietly and, with slow careful fingers, applied it along his arm and near his neck. Her touch lingered for a second longer than necessary, her heart unknowingly melting.

"Natak karna hai na, toh karte rahiye..." she whispered lovingly, brushing a stray strand of hair off his forehead. "Par mai apne pati ka itna handsome sa chehra maccharon ko gift nahi kar sakti."

A soft smile tugged at her lips. She tucked the blanket over him gently, smoothing the creases with her palm. Then she leaned in close, her voice turning into a tender whisper,
"Good night... my grumpy Thakur Sahab."

She pressed a light kiss on his forehead - a fleeting moment filled with quiet affection - and stood up, and walked back toward the stairs.

As her footsteps faded, Randheer's eyes slowly fluttered open. He looked at the blanket neatly draped over him and the small tube of cream lying on the table. A quiet smile crept across his face, breaking his otherwise stoic expression.

"Women..." he murmured under his breath, shaking his head with faint amusement. "Impossible to understand."

With a small chuckle, he placed his hand beneath his head, still smiling to himself, and drifted into sleep - the faint warmth of her care lingering long after she had gone.

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