Aayat's POV

Ours.

For one second... just one...

I stared at him.

Then...

I laughed.

Not soft.

Full, unfiltered, "are you actually serious right now?" laughter.

"Mihir..." I shook my head, pressing my lips together like I was trying to recover, but failing. "Ours?"

He froze.

That alone made it worse.

"We are in a contract marriage," I reminded him, still half-laughing, leaning casually against his desk. "Seven months. Three already done." I held up my fingers, counting. "Which leaves... what? Four?"

His jaw tightened.

Good.

Let him process that.

"And in those four months," I continued, tapping the paper where he had very clearly written Lily and Leechies, "you've already started planning... what? Our imaginary children's inheritance?"

I tilted my head, amused.

"That's impressive. Slightly concerning. But impressive."

"I said it was a slip," he muttered.

"Oh no," I said immediately, grinning now. "No, no. You don't get 'slips,' Chief Minister. You give speeches for a living."

That hit.

I could see it.

So naturally...

I kept going.

"You don't accidentally say 'ours,' Mihir," I added, folding my arms. "That's a fully formed thought that escaped."

He exhaled sharply, clearly done with this.

"It doesn't mean anything."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Of course it doesn't."

A beat.

Then I leaned slightly closer, lowering my voice just enough to make it worse for him...

"Relax," I said, amused. "I'm not claiming joint custody over your future children."

That got a reaction.

A proper one.

His eyes flicked to mine, sharp.

"There is no 'your'," he said.

Ah.

There it is.

I straightened slowly, smile still there, but lighter now.

"See?" I said. "You're doing it again."

Silence.

He didn't respond this time.

Interesting.

I glanced back at the paper, then at him.

"You really wrote this without realizing?" I asked, more curious than teasing now.

"Yes."

Immediate.

Flat.

Suspiciously fast.

I nodded slowly.

"Right. So your hand just... wandered off and decided to name my future kids."

"Your jokes," he corrected.

"My jokes," I agreed. "Not your planning document."

A small pause.

Then I smirked again.

"Also... Leechies?" I added. "You didn't even try to fix that one?"

"It's your fault," he said.

"That's fair."

Silence stretched for a second.

Then I pushed off the desk, shaking my head.

"You're unbelievable."

"So I've been told."

I was still looking at him when his phone rang.

Perfect timing.

Saved him.

Saved me from whatever that conversation was about to become.

He didn't even hesitate, just picked it up, expression shifting instantly.

Cold.

Focused.

Gone.

"Mihir," he said, voice clipped. "Yes."

I leaned back against the desk, folding my arms, watching him.

This version of him...

I hadn't seen it in a while.

No sarcasm.

No deflection.

Just precision.

A few short sentences.

A few sharper ones.

Then...

"I'll handle it."

Click.

Silence.

He didn't look at me.

Didn't go back to the paper.

Instead, he moved.

Fast.

Decisive.

Drawer open.

Files out.

Another call.

"Prepare the ground report. I don't want filtered data."

Pause.

"And don't inform local authorities."

That made me straighten slightly.

Okay...

What?

He ended the call and walked past me like I wasn't even there, already pulling out a duffel bag from the cupboard.

I frowned.

"What's happening?"

No answer.

He was already halfway through his wardrobe, pulling out clothes I had never seen him wear before.

Simple.

Worn.

Completely... not him.

I pushed off the desk, stepping closer.

"Mihir."

"Hmm."

Not even looking at me.

Annoying.

"Where are you going like this?"

That made him pause.

Just for a second.

Then he glanced at me.

And for some reason...

That look felt different.

Grounded.

Serious.

"A village," he said.

I blinked.

"A village?"

"Yes."

That was it.

No explanation.

Of course.

I crossed my arms. "And you decided this in... thirty seconds?"

He ignored that, pulling a plain kurta out and tossing it onto the bed.

Then..

I froze.

Because he picked up something else.

A moustache.

A very obvious, very fake-looking moustache.

I stared.

"...What are you doing?"

He didn't answer immediately.

Just walked to the mirror.

And, like this was a completely normal part of his routine..

started fixing it on.

I actually laughed.

I couldn't help it.

"Mihir," I said, disbelief all over my face, "are you serious right now?"

He adjusted it, tilting his head slightly, checking the alignment.

"Very."

I walked closer, circling him once like I was inspecting a very questionable life choice.

"You look ridiculous."

"I look unrecognizable," he corrected.

"Debatable."

He ignored that, already changing into the clothes.

And that's when it hit me.

This wasn't random.

This wasn't him being dramatic.

This was planned.

Calculated.

I watched him carefully now.

"You're hiding your identity," I said slowly.

"Obviously."

"Why?"

He glanced at me while rolling up his sleeves.

"Because if I go as Chief Minister," he said, tone calm, matter-of-fact, "they'll show me what they want me to see."

I stilled.

"And if I don't?"

"They won't even know who I am."

A pause.

"They'll show me everything they're trying to hide."

That...

That made something in my chest shift.

I leaned slightly against the table beside me, watching him differently now.

"What kind of problems?" I asked.

He didn't soften.

Didn't filter.

"Basic rights," he said. "Water. Safety. Land disputes."

A beat.

Then...

"And women."

My brows pulled together slightly.

"Women?"

"There are a lot of them fighting for their rights there," he said. "And no one's listening properly."

Something about the way he said that...

Not political.

Not performative.

Real.

I went quiet.

He finished adjusting his sleeve, completely ready now...like this was just another day for him.

But it wasn't.

Not like this.

Not when he was choosing to go in disguise instead of power.

I watched him for a few seconds.

Really watched.

The way he carried himself.

The way he switched so easily between roles.

The way he didn't even think twice about stepping into something like this.

And before I could overthink it...

"Can I come with you?"

The words just... came out.

He stopped.

Mid-motion.

Then slowly turned to look at me.

Fully.

There was a pause.

Not long.

But enough.

"You?" he said.

I shrugged lightly, trying to keep it casual.

"Yeah."

His eyes narrowed slightly.

"Why?"

Good question.

I thought about it for exactly two seconds.

Then answered honestly.

"I want to see."

A beat.

"And?"

I held his gaze.

"And if there are women fighting..." I added quietly, "I'd rather not sit here and hear about it later."

Silence.

He studied me.

Like he was trying to figure out if I meant it.

I didn't look away.

Not this time.

Another second passed.

Then he exhaled quietly, running a hand through his hair.

"This isn't a trip," he said. "It's not comfortable."

"I figured."

"It's not safe."

I raised an eyebrow. "You're going."

"That's different."

"Why?"

"Because I know what I'm doing."

"So do I."

That slipped out sharper than I intended.

But I didn't take it back.

He held my gaze again.

Longer this time.

Then...

"Stay close," he said finally.

Not a yes.

Not a no.

But definitely not a rejection.

I smiled.

Small.

Victorious.

"Is that permission?"

He sighed.

"You're coming anyway."

"Exactly."

He shook his head slightly, like he'd already accepted defeat.

"Don't argue there," he added. "Don't interfere unless I tell you to."

I tilted my head.

"No promises."

That earned me a look.

"Try."

I smiled again.

"Fine. I'll try."

A pause.

Then I gestured toward his face.

"You're still fixing that thing?"

He touched the moustache lightly.

"It's necessary."

"It's tragic."

"It's effective."

I nodded thoughtfully.

"Should I get one too?"

That made him stop.

Actually stop.

Then look at me.

Flat.

"...No."

I grinned.

"Missed opportunity."

"Be ready in ten minutes."

"Already am," I said instantly.

He gave me a look.

I ignored it.

Confident.

Unbothered.

Ready..

...and then it hit me.

I looked down at myself.

Yeah.

No.

Absolutely not.

I spun around without a word and walked straight to the wardrobe.

"You have five minutes now," I muttered to myself, already pulling things out.

Because there was no way I was walking into some rural village looking like this. Not if he was going undercover.

Not if I was going with him.

Twenty minutes later,..

I stepped out.

Saree.

Simple. Elegant. Not too loud.

A few bangles.

Mangalsutra.

Sindoor.

I paused for half a second after applying it...

Then looked at myself.

Right.

Now I fit the role.

I walked back out.

He was near the door, adjusting his watch, completely ready.

Then he looked up.

And stopped.

That...

was new.

I leaned slightly against the wall, casual.

"Well?" I asked. "Do I pass inspection or do I look like I'm about to attend a wedding?"

He didn't answer.

Didn't move either.

Just looked at me.

Properly.

From head to toe.

Then back to my face.

And stayed there.

Okay...

Why is he still looking?

I raised an eyebrow slightly.

"Say something."

Nothing.

Still looking.

What..

Oh.

I smiled slowly.

"Should I do ghunghat too?" I asked, half teasing, half curious, reaching lightly for the edge of my pallu.

That's when...

Our eyes locked.

And didn't break.

One second.

Two.

Three.

Okay.

Why is this suddenly...

"1 minute," I muttered under my breath.

Still looking.

"2..."

His expression didn't change.

Didn't flicker.

Just... steady.

"3..."

Why is this the longest eye contact of my life?

"3.5..." I added quietly.

Still nothing.

No reaction.

Just him.

Looking.

At me.

"4—"

"You don't have to do ghunghat."

His voice cut through, low.

Calm.

Certain.

I stilled.

My fingers paused mid-air.

A beat.

Then...

"Beauty is meant to be cherished... not hidden."

...

What?

I blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Did he just...

My brain completely stopped cooperating.

"What?" I asked, because that was the only word I could form.

He didn't react.

Didn't look embarrassed.

Didn't take it back.

Just held my gaze like he hadn't just said something that made my heart do something very unnecessary.

"You heard me," he said.

Oh, I did.

That's the problem.

I turned my face slightly, suddenly very interested in absolutely nothing on the wall beside him.

"Right," I muttered.

Why is it warm in here?

It's not warm.

I'm just..

No.

No, we're not doing this.

I straightened, adjusting my bangles like that would somehow fix my brain.

"Since when do you talk like that?" I asked, trying to sound normal.

"I don't," he said.

"That was very clear."

A pause.

Then I looked back at him.

Carefully.

"You say things like that in villages too?" I added. "Or is this a special pre-departure speech?"

A faint shift in his expression.

Almost a smirk.

"Depends," he said.

"On?"

He held my gaze.

"Who I'm talking to."

Oh.

Great.

That didn't help.

At all.

I huffed lightly, shaking my head.

"You're unbelievable."

"And yet," he said calmly, picking up his bag, "you're coming with me."

I rolled my eyes.

"Don't let it get to your head."

Too late.

Probably.

He walked past me toward the door.

Then paused.

Glanced back once.

"You ready?"

I adjusted my pallu once more, lifting my chin slightly.

"Now I am."

A small pause.

Then I added...

"No ghunghat."

His eyes flickered briefly.

Approval?

Maybe.

"Good," he said.

And this time...

when we walked out...

I didn't look away first.

.....

The car ride started in silence.

Not the awkward kind.

Not the heavy kind either.

Just... quiet.

The kind that sits between two people who are both thinking too much and saying too little.

I sat beside him, adjusting the edge of my saree for the third time in five minutes.

Not because it needed adjusting.

Because my hands needed something to do.

Because my brain...

Yeah. Let's not go there.

I glanced at him.

Once.

Then immediately looked away.

Bad idea.

Very bad idea.

Because now my brain decided to replay...

"Beauty is meant to be cherished... not hidden."

I pressed my lips together.

Nope.

Absolutely not thinking about that again.

Focus.

Village.

Women.

Work.

Real things.

Not whatever that was.

I straightened slightly, forcing myself into a more composed posture.

"So," I said, finally breaking the silence, "what exactly is the plan?"

He didn't look at me.

Good.

That helped.

"We observe first," he said. "No interference."

"Even if something's wrong?"

"Yes."

I frowned.

"That's a terrible plan."

"It's an effective one."

I turned toward him slightly.

"And after observing?"

"We act."

Short.

Precise.

Annoyingly calm.

I watched him for a second.

"You do this often?" I asked.

"Yes."

Of course he does.

"And no one knows?"

"No one who shouldn't."

A pause.

Then...

"Not even your team?"

"Only two people."

That made me raise an eyebrow.

"Trust issues?"

"Control."

Fair.

I leaned back slightly, watching the road ahead.

Fields started replacing buildings.

Concrete turning into dust roads.

Noise fading into... something quieter.

Simpler.

Realer.

I didn't say anything for a minute.

Then...

"What's my role?" I asked.

He glanced at me briefly this time.

"Stay beside me."

"That's not a role."

"It is today."

I narrowed my eyes slightly.

"That's suspiciously easy."

"It's not meant to be difficult."

"That's even more suspicious."

That got a faint reaction.

Barely there.

But I saw it.

Victory.

A small one.

I looked outside again.

Kids running barefoot.

Women carrying water pots.

Men gathered near a tea stall.

Everything felt... slower.

But heavier.

"You weren't exaggerating," I said quietly.

"I don't."

Yeah.

I've noticed.

The car slowed down.

Then stopped.

Dust rose slightly outside.

"This is where we walk," he said.

I blinked.

"We walk?"

"Yes."

I looked down at my saree.

Then at the road.

Then at him.

"...You could've warned me."

"You said you were ready."

He had a point.

Annoying.

I stepped out anyway.

The heat hit instantly.

Different from the city.

Harsher.

Unfiltered.

I adjusted my pallu over my shoulder, taking a small breath.

Okay.

This is fine.

We started walking.

Side by side.

Not too close.

Not too far.

People glanced at us.

Of course they did.

We were outsiders.

But not obviously powerful ones.

That was the point.

A group of women sat near a well.

Talking.

Laughing.

Then going quiet as we passed.

I slowed slightly.

Observing.

Listening.

He didn't stop.

So neither did I.

No interference.

Right.

We walked further in.

Houses smaller now.

Some broken.

Some barely standing.

And then...

I saw it.

A girl.

Maybe 14.

Carrying a water bucket almost as big as her.

Struggling.

No one helping.

I slowed.

My instinct kicked in immediately.

"Don't," he said quietly, without looking at me.

I clenched my jaw.

"She's—"

"I saw."

"Then why aren't we..."

"Because we're watching."

I exhaled sharply.

This is hard.

Really hard.

My fingers tightened slightly at my side.

But I kept walking.

Barely.

Then...

Voices.

Raised.

Sharp.

We both stopped this time.

Not planned.

Just... instinct.

Two men arguing.

Loud.

Aggressive.

A woman standing between them.

Trying to speak.

Getting ignored.

Classic.

I glanced at him.

He was already watching.

Analyzing.

Not reacting.

How does he do that?

The argument escalated.

The woman tried again.

One of the men cut her off.

Harsh.

Dismissive.

Something in me snapped slightly.

I took a step forward.

His hand caught my wrist.

Firm.

Not rough.

But enough.

"Not yet," he said quietly.

I looked at him.

Really looked this time.

A voice broke through...

soft... trembling... desperate.

"Please... just give me my daughter back..."

I froze.

Didn't move.

Didn't speak.

Just... listened.

An old man stood a few feet away, hands folded, almost shaking as he begged. In front of him, another man stood still, unmoved.

"She's married now," he said flatly. "She belongs to our house."

Belongs.

My fingers curled slightly at my side.

"I gave you everything," the father continued, his voice cracking under the weight of it. "Land... money... even the house... it's on loan now... I have nothing left..."

My chest tightened.

Nothing.

"And still..." he swallowed, struggling to keep his voice steady, "still you won't send her back?"

A pause.

Then...

"If you want her back," the man said casually, "bring more."

More.

I felt something sharp rise in my throat.

More from what?

He just said he has nothing.

I glanced at Mihir.

He hadn't moved.

Hadn't spoken.

Just watching.

Listening.

The same way he had before.

And suddenly...

I understood.

This...

this was the truth he was waiting for.

Not surface.

Not noise.

This.

Raw.

Ugly.

Real.

The father's hands dropped slightly now, like even begging was becoming too heavy.

"I can't..." he whispered. "There's nothing left to give..."

Silence stretched.

Thick.

Uncomfortable.

But no one stepped in.

Not them.

Not us.

My jaw tightened, but I stayed where I was.

Because this time...

I knew...

we weren't here to interrupt.

We were here to see.

And what I was seeing...

I wasn't going to forget.

By the third night...

I was asleep.

Not properly. Not deeply. Just the kind of sleep your body forces on you when it's too tired to keep thinking.

A knock pulled me out of it.

Soft.

Hesitant.

I didn't move at first.

Then I heard the door open.

Mihir.

Of course.

Low voices followed.

A woman's.

"Where is your wife?"

I frowned slightly, still half-asleep.

Wife?

A pause.

Then Mihir...

"Yes. She's inside."

...

I opened my eyes.

I pushed myself up, blinking away the sleep, trying to process that very casual confirmation of something he usually avoided acknowledging out loud.

Another voice joined in, softer.

"We came to invite you both..."

Both.

Right.

I stood up, quickly adjusting my saree before stepping out.

They turned as I entered.

Two women.

One older.

One younger.

I smiled lightly, polite. "Namaste."

"Namaste," they replied.

And then I saw her properly.

The older woman.

My smile faltered...

just a little.

Scars.

Faint.

But not invisible.

Along her arm.

Near her wrist.

Even a slight mark near her neck that her pallu didn't fully hide.

Not accidental.

Not one-time.

My chest tightened.

I didn't say anything.

Didn't react.

But I saw it.

Every bit of it.

"We came to invite you," the younger one said, holding out a small card.

"There's a wedding," she added. "Sangeet tonight."

I took it, glancing down briefly.

"Omkar Kulkarni's wedding."

I looked up.

They were watching us carefully.

Almost... nervously.

"You both should come," the older woman said quickly. "It will be good."

Good.

My fingers tightened slightly around the card.

I glanced at Mihir.

He had noticed too.

The scars.

Of course he had.

He notices everything.

I looked back at them.

And smiled again.

This time softer.

"Of course," I said. "We'll come."

The older woman nodded, relief flickering across her face.

"Come early," she added. "Everyone will be there."

Everyone.

That word sat differently.

They left soon after.

Quietly.

Just like they came.

The door closed.

Silence filled the room again.

I looked down at the invitation in my hand.

Then back at Mihir.

"Did you see that?" I asked quietly.

His answer came immediately.

"Yes."

Of course.

A pause.

Then I glanced at the door.

"Wedding sangeet," I murmured.

He didn't respond.

But his expression had changed.

Slightly.

Thinking.

Calculating.

And suddenly...

this didn't feel like an invitation anymore.

It felt like...

an opportunity.

I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting my earrings, again.

It wasn't about the earrings.

It was just...

something felt different.

Maybe it was the saree.

Maybe it was the place.

Maybe it was the fact that we were about to walk into a village function as a married couple when...

we weren't.

Not really.

I fixed my pallu one last time and turned toward him.

He was near the door, checking his watch like timing mattered more than anything else.

Of course it did.

It always did.

Still...

I tilted my head slightly.

"Kaise lag rahi hoon?" I asked, keeping my tone light.

"How do I look?"

He looked up.

And paused.

His gaze stayed.

A second too long.

Then another.

I raised an eyebrow. "Are you really here ?"

That seemed to snap him out of it.

And then...

"The kind of woman poets write poetry about...I mean..." he started, completely serious, "sundar..sundar lag rahi."

I blinked.

Once.

Twice.

"...Kya?"

He didn't smile.

Didn't even try to soften it.

"Unexpectedly risky," he continued calmly, "but surprisingly worth it."

I stared at him.

What.

Was.

That.

"Was it compliment?" I asked, genuinely confused now.

"Yes."

"No, absolutely no," I said immediately.

He tilted his head slightly. "I said 'worth it'."

"I heard 'confusing' ," I shot back.

A faint flicker of amusement passed through his eyes.

Barely there.

But I caught it.

I narrowed mine slightly.

"You could've just said 'theek lag rahi ho,'" I muttered.

"That would've been inaccurate."

...

I looked away.

Bad idea.

Because now my brain decided to process that.

I adjusted my bangles quickly, pretending that was the reason my hands suddenly needed work.

"Chaliye," I said, walking toward the door before this got any more... whatever this was.

He moved ahead, opening the door.

Then paused.

Just slightly.

As I walked past him..

"Waise," he added casually, "contract ho ya na ho..."

I stopped.

Of course I did.

"You're playing the role perfect ...."

I turned slowly.

He was already looking at me.

Calm.

Steady.

Like he hadn't just..

I exhaled softly, shaking my head.

"You're impossible."

"And you're late," he replied.

I rolled my eyes, stepping out.

But this time...

the small smile didn't leave.

The moment we reached...

noise.

Music.

Laughter.

Bright lights that didn't quite match the reality of the village, but tried anyway.

Women gathered in clusters, colorful sarees, bangles clinking, voices rising together in songs that felt... old. Familiar to them.

Unfamiliar to me.

Before I could even take it all in, one of the women from earlier appeared beside me.

"Come, come," she said warmly, taking my hand. "sit here."

I instinctively glanced at Mihir.

He was already watching.

Of course.

"I'll sit with him," I said lightly.

"Arre," another woman laughed, nudging the first, "itna pyaar? Thoda sambhaal ke rakho."

"Hey," another woman laughed, nudging the first, "so much love? Save a little of it."

A few of them chuckled.

My lips twitched.

Before I could respond...

"No," Mihir said calmly.

Simple.

Firm.

"She'll sit with me."

That shut them up for exactly two seconds.

Then...

"Acha?" one of them grinned. "Itna bhi kya—"

"Acha?" one of them grinned. "Oh really? What's so—"

I cut in quickly, before this turned into a full discussion.

"It's okay," I said, giving him a look that clearly said relax.

Then to them..

"I'll come."

He didn't look convinced.

But he didn't stop me either.

Good.

Because this...

this is where I needed to be.

I sat down among them, adjusting my saree as they made space.

The songs continued.

Claps.

Laughter.

Someone pulled me into the rhythm.

I smiled.

Followed along.

Tried.

But something felt...

off.

I couldn't place it immediately.

Everything looked normal.

Sounded normal.

But underneath...

there was a tension.

In the way some of them glanced at each other.

In the way one woman's laughter stopped just a second too soon.

In the way silence lingered just a little longer between verses.

Odd.

Very odd.

"Tum nayi ho na?" one of them asked suddenly, turning to me.

"Are you new here?"

I nodded. "Haan."

"Yes"

"Kya karti ho?"

"What You do?"

Ah.

There it is.

My smile froze for half a second.

Think.

Think.

"Main..." I started, then quickly recovered, "teacher hoon."

Teacher.

Yes.

Safe.

Simple.

They nodded, impressed.

"Accha," another one said. "Aur tumhare pati?"

"Alright," another one said. "And your husband?"

A beat.

Then...

"Aur Unki sarkaari naukri hai kya?"

"Does he have a government job?"

...

I opened my mouth.

Closed it.

Opened it again.

And then...

without thinking...

"Puri ki puri sarkar humaare pati ki hai."

"The entire government belongs to my husband."

Silence.

Immediate.

My brain stopped.

What.

Did.

I just say.

The women stared at me.

One blinked.

Another tilted her head slightly.

And that's when it hit me.

Oh no.

No no no..

Aayat.

He's the Chief Minister.

You cannot say that.

You did not just...

Fix it.

Fix it right now.

I laughed.

Too quickly.

Too lightly.

"Matlab..." I waved my hand casually, like it was nothing, "woh... contractor hain."

"I mean..." I waved my hand casually, like it was nothing, "he's... a contractor."

Yes.

Good.

Continue.

"Government ke kaam lete hain... isliye... sarkar ghar tak aa hi jaati hai," I added, forcing a small smile.

"He takes on government projects... so... the government kind of follows him home," I added, forcing a small smile.

A pause.

They looked at each other.

Processing.

One of them laughed.

"Arre wah," she said. "Badi baat hai."

"Oh wow," she said. "That's a big deal."

Relief hit me so fast I almost sighed out loud.

I smiled again.

Controlled this time.

"Bas... kaam hi hai."

"It's just... work."

But inside..

my heart was still racing.

Because that...

that was way too close.

And somewhere across the courtyard...

I could feel his gaze on me.

And I already knew...

he heard it.

Every word.

Great.

Just great.

The song ended, and the laughter softened to small chatter. One of the women turned toward me, curiosity sparkling in her eyes.

"Kitne saal hue shaadi ko?" she asked.

"How many years have you been married?" she asked.

I froze for half a second, then answered lightly, "One year." Lie

She nodded slowly, as if storing the detail. Then, leaning slightly closer, she asked again, softer this time, "Aur... bacche?"

Kids?

My stomach twisted. My mind immediately flashed back to Mihir's handwriting...the names he had scribbled so casually on that paper: Lily... Leechies...

I blinked rapidly. No. Not here. Not now.

"None," I said quickly, forcing a small, polite smile.

Inside, though... my thoughts were spinning. Mihir... his ridiculous planning... Lily and Leechies... My fingers twitched almost imperceptibly at my lap.

I tried to focus on the rhythm of the women's songs around me, the clapping, the soft hum of their voices, but every glance toward Mihir reminded me that the "contract" part of our marriage made all of this... surreal.

When does this interview end? I thought, gripping the edge of my saree just slightly. Because I'm not built for all this curiosity. Not when every question is a trap waiting to explode.

The woman smiled again, completely unaware of the storm inside me, and leaned back. My chest eased just a fraction, though the tension remained.

I glanced at Mihir. He was calm, serene, untouchable...as always.

And I realized... surviving this was going to take every ounce of patience I had.

Every ounce.

I excused myself quietly, murmuring something about needing the washroom. The women nodded, too busy chatting and preparing for the next song to question me.

The house was large...too grand for a village wedding. Ornate lights flickered in hallways that led deeper into private quarters. I walked carefully, avoiding servants and guests milling about.

When I finally spotted a sign pointing to Ladies', my shoulders relaxed slightly.

But as I approached...

The door wasn't fully closed.

A thin gap remained...just enough light spilling out from within.

And sounds?

Muffled voices. A man's tone...deep, sharp... demanding something in a low growl that made my skin prickle with unease before I even understood why.

My steps slowed instinctively. This didn't feel right anymore...not at all...but curiosity (or maybe concern) pulled me forward like gravity

I pressed closer silently, and then froze completely

Because through the crack...

Omkar Kulkarni.

Yes, the groom whose wedding we were celebrating tonight... stood tall over someone on their knees on the floor

A girl?

Young? Very young? Barely an adult by any standard; her back hunched like she wanted to disappear entirely while Omkar towered above her with his arms crossed and face twisted into cold anger

The girl was shaking.

Not from crying, no, not yet. But her whole body trembled with the kind of fear that doesn't need tears to be real. Her hands were clasped together tightly, knuckles white, like she was begging silently without making a sound.

Omkar said something I couldn't quite catch, low and furious, but his tone was unmistakable: disgust, dominance, pure control.

Then he raised his hand.

Just slightly. Not enough to strike yet... but threateningly close to it, the motion itself a warning shot across the bow

My breath hitched

This wasn't just an argument

This wasn't some groom scolding a servant or relative before wedding rituals

No...

Something far worse was happening right here, in this room, and no one outside knew anything about it

My feet moved before my brain could stop them.

No thought. No plan. Just, no.

I pushed the door open with a sharp, decisive motion, the kind that doesn't ask for permission, it takes space.

Omkar whipped his head toward me instantly, eyes flashing with surprise and irritation at being interrupted.

The girl froze too, her wide eyes darting to me like I was either salvation or doom

For a split second... silence fell so thick you could hear the music from outside through the walls, but muffled here in this closed room

Omkar recovered fast. His face hardened into cold arrogance as he straightened up fully and turned to face me properly

"Who are you?" he demanded, not polite. Not curious. A command laced with annoyance and authority that said: you don't belong here

I didn't flinch.

Instead, I stepped further inside without hesitation, and closed the door behind me softly but firmly

The slap cracked through the room, sharp, sudden, echoing off the walls.

Omkar's head snapped to the side from sheer force. For a heartbeat, he just stood there... frozen in shock.

Then rage exploded across his face

His eyes turned dark with fury and humiliation, the kind of anger that made men violent without thinking

In an instant, he raised his hand high above my shoulder and swung it down hard toward me...

A backhand slap aimed straight at my cheek

I didn't flinch.

I caught his wrist, mid-swing, with a grip so fast and firm it looked rehearsed. My eyes stayed locked onto his, cold and unshaken despite the fire in them

The room fell dead silent

Omkar tried to yank his arm free, but I held tight, my fingers clamping down like steel around bone. His muscles tensed as he struggled against me... but I didn't budge an inch

His face twisted with disbelief now mixed with rage, that a woman could overpower him physically like this?

He opened his mouth to roar something, but before he could speak...

I punched him.

Not hard enough to knock teeth out, but clean. A sharp jab right on the jawline that snapped his head sideways again

The punch landed with a satisfying crack, not full-force, but precise and powerful enough to sting.

Omkar staggered back half a step, eyes widening in pure shock. His jaw throbbed, his pride shattered more than his skin

He clutched the side of his face instinctively, staring at me like I'd just committed blasphemy

For a second—he didn't move

Just breathed heavily through flared nostrils while rage burned behind those blackened eyes

I finally turned my back on Omkar, deliberately ignoring his fury, and faced the girl still kneeling on the floor.

She hadn't moved since I entered. Still hunched, still trembling, her small frame practically folded in on itself like she was trying to disappear

My expression softened instantly, the cold fire from moments ago melting into quiet concern

Without a word, I crouched down slowly so I wasn't towering over her... and gently placed a hand on her shoulder

"Hey," I said softly, my voice warm now compared to how sharp it had been with Omkar. "Are you okay?"

The question was simple, but heavy with meaning

The girl didn't answer.

Not a word. Not even a nod.

Her eyes, wide, dark, and glassy with unshed tears, just stared at me like I was some kind of apparition. Like she couldn't believe someone had just stepped  in for her... or that anyone would care

She flinched slightly when my hand touched her shoulder, as if expecting pain instead of comfort

And then...

A tiny tear escaped. Just one. Rolling silently down her cheek before she quickly wiped it away with the back of her palm, ashamed to cry in front of strangers

Omkar scoffed behind us, the sound sharp and mocking, but I didn't turn around this time

I kept my focus on her

Slowly, I reached out again, not grabbing, not forcing anything, and gently lifted the edge of my dupatta

Before I could say another word, before I could even gently wrap the dupatta around the girl's shoulders, Omkar moved.

Fast. Furious. Driven by wounded pride and explosive ego

One second he was standing behind us, the next, his hands were around my throat

No warning.

No shout.

Just brutal, crushing force as his fingers clamped down on either side of my neck like iron vices

I gasped sharply

Omkar's face twisted into a sneer as his fingers tightened slightly, just enough pressure to make my breath hitch, not enough to cut it off completely

"You thought you could ruin my moment?" he growled low and venomous, right in my ear. "My wedding? In my house?"

His voice was laced with pure arrogance, the kind that came from never being challenged or denied anything

The girl on the floor whimpered, a tiny sound of terror, and instinctively scrambled back against the wall like she wanted to disappear entirely

Omkar didn't even glance at her. All his focus was on me now: this woman who dared slap him... punch him... then turn her back on him like he meant nothing

And now?

Now I was in his grip

Omkar's grip tightened, just a fraction more.

I could feel the hard bone of his fingers digging in slightly, the heat of his anger radiating off him like fire

And he didn't let go.

Instead, with that same cruel sneer on his face, he leaned even closer... so close that when he spoke again, I felt the hot breath from his lips brush against my ear as if whispering something intimate, but it was pure poison

"You don't belong here," Omkar growled. "No one invited you. You think you can walk into my wedding hall and act all high? Slap me? Punch me? Defend some worthless girl no one cares about?"

Each word dripped with disgust and worse: contempt for women who dared raise their voices

The next moment left me shocked....

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

1. What left her shocked?

2. What will happen with Kulkarni's fiancé?

3. Will Mihir know about all this?

4. What do you think of this chapter?

AND YES TELL ME HOW WAS THE CHAPTER??????

To be continued

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