Reyna :-
I didn't know when my breathing turned uneven.
It must have been somewhere between shouting questions at him and trying to make sense of the chaos downstairs. It must have been when Advik locked the door behind us, trapping the air between us, trapping me with him.
The house was loud- voices, footsteps, clinking tea cups from the hall, my mother asking something but inside this room, everything was silent.
Silent, except for the sound of my own pulse.
Except for Advik's breath, low and steady, like he wasn't affected at all.
But his eyes-
His eyes were another story.
They pinned me, burned through me, tore apart every shield I ever tried to build.
I didn't even realize my fingers were curled into his collar again.
I didn't even realize my voice was cracking.
I just wanted truth.
Just one truth.
One damn answer.
I didn't understand when the air in the room changed, only that it did.
Something in Advik's expression shifted- something sharp and breathless and frighteningly intense. One moment I was demanding answers, gripping his collar out of frustration, and the next he was looking at me like everything inside him had just broken loose.
Before I could step back, before I could even inhale, he cupped my face and pulled me closer to him. There was no warning- just heat, strength, and a sudden loss of distance. His hand slid into my hair, tilting my face up with a certainty that stole every ounce of breath from my lungs.
His mouth found mine in a hard, unrestrained kiss.
The shock of it hit me first- a rush that made my fingers freeze against his shirt. My back struck the wall behind me, and the slight jolt only pushed me closer to him. I felt the entire length of his body, the tension in his muscles, the kind of hunger I wasn't sure he had ever allowed anyone to see.
His lips moved with a fierce determination, tasting like frustration and something dangerously close to desire. I tried to think, to protest, to do anything but the moment his mouth molded to mine again, thought dissolved into a white-hot blur.
My fingers trembled and then tightened, pulling him closer without my permission. His thumb brushed my jaw, steadying my face as he devoured whatever protest might have been building in my throat. He kissed like a man who didn't want to be kissing me at all, yet couldn't stop himself.
And I hated how easily I melted.
Heat unfurled through me, spreading from where his hands held me to every place our bodies touched. My breath tangled with his. My knees felt unsteady. My heart hammered so wildly I was certain he could feel it against his chest. Everything inside me- anger, confusion, fear folded beneath the force of his mouth.
And because I was foolish, reckless, or simply weak to him, I kissed him back.
The moment I did, something in him stilled. His grip tightened at my waist, his breath caught, and his lips pressed harder- less like a mistake and more like a craving he'd been trying too long to deny. My fingers slid upward, curling into the fabric of his shirt as if holding on to something inevitable.
The world faded into sensation the warmth of his breath, the strength of his chest, the faint scrape of stubble brushing my skin when he angled his head and deepened the kiss. Every part of him was too much and not enough all at once.
When he finally broke away, he didn't do it gently. His mouth tore from mine with a ragged exhale, as if the air between us had become too dangerous to share. I stood there, breathless, lips tingling, heart still racing uncontrollably.
His eyes held a look that made my stomach twist- dark, charged, stripped of all the control he prided himself on. For a single, suspended moment, I thought he might reach for me again.
But the shrill buzz of his phone cut through the room, shattering the fragile, impossible quiet.
He glanced at the screen, and whatever softness had fought to surface vanished instantly. His posture straightened, his jaw locked, and the heat in his eyes froze into something far colder.
It was Kabir Raichand.
"Come downstairs," Kabir's voice crackled faintly through the phone- loud enough for me to catch the tone if not the words.
He ended the call without replying.
The silence that followed felt heavier than the kiss itself.
Before I could step back, he seized my wrist. His fingers clamped around my skin with a force that shocked me, and the sudden sting forced a small gasp out of me. The anger in his eyes wasn't subtle. It wasn't hidden. His grip was tight, angry, punishing like he was trying to erase the way I'd just touched him.
It was deliberate.
"Stay away from me," he said quietly- quiet, but edged like a blade. "And don't ever try something like that again."
My stomach dropped.
Try something like that?
As if he hadn't been the one who lost control.
As if he hadn't been the one who dragged me into the wall.
As if I had asked for any of it.
He let go of my wrist abruptly, leaving my skin warm and throbbing where his fingers had been. Shame washed over me first- raw, hot, humiliating. Then anger, sharp enough to steady me again. I swallowed hard, refusing to let him see how much those words stung.
He didn't give me a chance to respond.
Didn't offer a single explanation.
Didn't look at my face again.
He pulled open the door, stepped out into the hallway, and walked away without turning back even once.
I stayed against the wall, breathing too fast, my pulse still rushing from a kiss that felt like a storm. The taste of him lingered on my lips, and I hated myself for noticing it. Hated myself for wanting another second, another breath, another moment of something I shouldn't want at all.
By the time the sound of voices from downstairs drifted up toward the room, the only thing I could feel was the echo of his warning-
Stay away.
As if distance could erase what he'd just done.
As if forgetting him was that easy.
As if I hadn't already crossed a line I couldn't uncross.
Advik :-
The corridor outside her room felt colder than it had a moment ago. Maybe it was the absence of her body heat. Maybe it was the fact that I had shoved distance between us before I could do something even more reckless. Either way, the air bit at my skin as I walked, trying to force my breath back under control.
Her taste still clung to my mouth.
Her scent still clouded my head.
I should've pushed her away the second her fingers grabbed my collar.
I should've walked out before her voice began shaking.
Before her eyes softened.
Before her mouth parted like she wanted answers and something more.
Instead... I kissed her.
I let myself fall into her like a man starved, like some part of me had been waiting for her without ever admitting it.
And worse- she kissed me back like she'd been waiting too.
My hand tightened into a fist at my side.
Damn her. Damn myself more.
By the time I reached the last step, my face was blank again- my mask sealed back in place. The moment I set foot in the hall, Kabir chachu's eyes snapped to mine.
"Where did you go?" he asked without asking.
I didn't blink. "Had to take a call."
A lie delivered smoothly, practiced, effortless.
Kabir didn't believe it. He didn't need to. He only needed to confirm I wasn't about to blow the entire alliance apart.
He held my stare for a second longer, then exhaled through his nose, the universal Raichand warning: Stay sharp. Don't slip.
If only he knew I already had.
After few minutes, Ira walked into the hall with silver tray trembling slightly in her hands. She looked confused, nervous, trying to look put together but failing miserably. Her gaze darted around the room like she was searching for an escape. She looked small, almost fragile, her expression flickering between uncertainty and hope. The kind of girl raised to please, not question.
Ira placed the tea tray on the table gently, her hands steady, her posture straight.
Everyone watched her like she was some goddess of grace.
I looked up at her because I had to, because politeness was expected...
And that was the FIRST time I actually saw her.
Pretty. Elegant. Well-mannered.
But...
Nothing.
No spark.
No pull.
No irritation.
No chaos.
Just... blankness.
Exactly what I expected.
I should've offered to take the tray.
Should've reassured her.
Should've shown basic courtesy.
But my mind wasn't in the hall.
It was upstairs.
In a locked room.
With a girl who tasted like trouble and desperation and every mistake a man like me wasn't allowed to make.
My mother's voice floated into the silence, warm and pleasant.
"So, Ira," My mother asked gently, "what are your interests? Hobbies? Things you enjoy?"
Ira straightened, grateful for the attention.
Her voice was soft, practiced.
"I... I like reading. Classical music. I also help Mom with charity events when I'm home from London."
The perfect answer from the perfect daughter of a perfect alliance.
Her tone was soft, sincere, exactly what any mother would want in a daughter-in-law. My mother nodded approvingly.
Kabir watched her with detached scrutiny.
None of it held my attention.
Because the room shifted- not literally, but in the way everything seemed to tilt toward the staircase.
A presence.
A pull.
A shadow moving into the light.
Reyna appeared at the top step.
Her hair was a little messy- my fingers had been there.
Her lips were still faintly swollen- my mouth had done that.
Her eyes...
Her eyes locked onto mine, and something inside me jolted so violently I almost stopped breathing.
She wasn't hiding anything- not the anger, not the confusion, not the heat left behind from the kiss I'd forced onto both of us.
And God help me, I felt every bit of it.
She came down slowly, holding the railing like her legs weren't steady. Her gaze never left me, as if she were trying to understand what had just happened... and why I walked away.
I didn't have an answer.
Not one I could give her.
Not one that wouldn't ruin us both.
My mother's voice sliced through the charged silence.
"Advik," she said lightly, "why don't you go sit with Ira?"
My entire body went still.
Ira looked up, confused again.
Kabir gave a nod of approval.
Rajveer glanced between us, satisfaction hidden under a polite smile.
And Reyna...
Reyna froze mid-step, her fingers tightening on the wooden railing, shock blinking across her face before she forced it down.
But she couldn't hide the hurt.
Or the betrayal.
Or the silent question tangled in her eyes:
How can you kiss me upstairs and sit with her downstairs?
The realization hit me with brutal clarity.
I was expected to marry Ira.
Expected to honor the alliance.
Expected to sit beside a girl I barely knew while the one who tasted like fire stood on the staircase watching me walk toward someone else.
I swallowed the curse rising in my throat and moved.
Each step toward Ira felt wrong.
Heavy.
False.
And with every step, Reyna's gaze burned into me, stripping away the mask, exposing the chaos under my skin.
I sat beside Ira. Ira shifted slightly, clearing her throat.
Yeah. She wasn't comfortable at all.
I leaned back in the sofa, jaw clenched, trying not to show my irritation.
Reyna looked like the ground had shifted beneath her feet.
And the worst part?
I felt it too.
Reyna :-
I wasn't sure what anger felt like before today.
Not real anger.
Not the kind that melted through skin, settled in bone, and pulsed like a second heartbeat.
But watching Advik walk across the hall...
Watching him sit beside Ira as if he hadn't kissed me breathless just minutes ago...
Watching him pretend nothing had happened...
That anger burned. It ate through my chest so fiercely I had to grip the side of the staircase railing just to breathe.
His shoulders were stiff.
His jaw was clenched.
He looked like he wanted to be anywhere else.
But he still sat next to her.
As if it meant nothing.
As if I meant nothing.
My stomach twisted bitterly.
Then, there was Ira trying to understand how she'd become the center of an evening she hadn't asked for. Anyone who knew her- really knew her—would notice the way her fingers tightened on the edges of the fabric of her kurti, the way her shoulders curled inward.
She didn't want this.
None of it.
But no one was looking closely enough.
Shamsher Raichand cleared his throat, commanding the room's attention with nothing more than his presence.
"So, Rajveer beta," he said, leaning back with quiet authority, "shall we ask the children? Advik and Ira- are they ready to speak privately? Perhaps get to know each other?"
The words hit me like a slap.
For a moment, everything around me froze.
The air. The noise. The fake smiles.
Get to know each other?
Ready?
For what?
I looked at my father, hoping- foolishly that I'd find answers in his face. But he wore the same unreadable calm he always wore when he'd already made his decision. When nothing could move him.
Advik's voice cut through the tension, low and flat.
"No."
The room stilled.
Whatever emotion he might have felt was buried so deep even I couldn't reach it.
"Whatever you all decide will be fine."
Those words were worse than agreement.
They were surrender.
A kind of obedience that made the back of my neck prickle with unease. Ira stiffened beside him, her disgust flickering openly this time not at Advik, but at the situation closing in on her like a trap. Her love belonged somewhere else. She had never been good at pretending.
And she shouldn't have to pretend now.
But here she was.
Caught.
Meera Raichand leaned forward gently, her voice softening.
"Ira dear, did you like Advik?"
Ira opened her mouth, panic trembling across her features, but before a single word could escape-
"Yes, of course," my mother answered for her, her voice sweet, final, immovable. "Why wouldn't she?"
Ira's expression shattered in that single instant- shock, fear, betrayal, all swallowed down in silence.
Something cold slipped down my spine.
This wasn't casual talk.
This wasn't a friendly visit.
This wasn't a normal alliance meeting.
This was a decision made long before Ira brought that tray into the room. My father cleared his throat, making everyone sit properly.
"Raghav, Meera... we like Advik a lot," Papa said with a proud smile. "He is talented, calm, respectful. A perfect man."
My heart sank for some reason I didn't want to understand.
Raghav nodded. "And we hope you liked Ira as well."
Meera leaned forward, smiling at my sister with pure affection.
"I liked her a lot. She is exactly the kind of girl I imagined for my son."
Her words were soft, warm... final.
I felt something twist painfully inside me.
No.
Why am I reacting like this?
This isn't about me.
Papa looked at Ira. Then at me.
And the next second- he shattered our world.
"This is a marriage meeting," he announced calmly.
"And Ira... I am fixing your marriage with Advik."
Ira froze beside me.
My breath caught in my throat.
Everything around me blurred for a moment.
Raghav Raichand's voice followed, sealing everything into place.
"Then why wait?" he suggested, smiling politely. "Let's perform the roka ceremony."
My breath caught in my throat.
Ira inhaled sharply, her entire body recoiling as if she were preparing to fight—one last desperate plea forming in her eyes.
But then she met my father's gaze.
A single look.
Hard.
Warning.
Final.
Her resistance died before it could form.
And the hall transformed.
Servants moved.
Priests appeared.
Plates of sweets were brought forward.
Gold thalis gleamed under crystal chandeliers.
The Rathores and Raichands rose with practiced ease, as if they'd rehearsed this moment quietly, secretly, long before we'd even stepped into the room.
Meera placed the tilak on Ira's forehead.
Papa gave sweets to Advik.
Raghav blessed Ira.
Everything happened in slow motion...
or maybe I just wasn't breathing.
I stood frozen on the staircase.
Watching my sister- my sweet, confused sister walk forward with forced obedience.
Watching Advik follow with a hollow expression that didn't match the man who had kissed me with fire minutes ago.
He looked numb.
Like someone had ripped pieces out of him and left him to function anyway.
Ira's hand trembled and Advik didn't flinch as it was placed on his.
Blessings were exchanged.
Sweets touched lips that didn't want them.
I watched it all happen with a fake smile on my face and the kind of pain I wasn't prepared for.
And as everyone clapped, smiled, and celebrated an engagement neither of them asked for-
A shard of something sharp lodged itself deep in my chest.
Jealousy.
Anger.
Confusion.
Hurt.
Call it whatever you want.
All I knew was:
I wasn't supposed to feel any of it.
I wasn't supposed to care.
But watching them stand there-bound in rituals, tied by decisions they didn't make-
I felt something inside me crack loud enough to drown out the entire room.
And for the first time that day,
I didn't bother to hide the pain written on my face.