Author's POV
The Singh-Raghuvanshi mansion had survived wars, betrayals, and decades of secrets. But today, it faced its greatest challenge yet: family. The kind that arrived unannounced, judged your life choices, and weaponized breakfast items.
Aaj is ghar mein aag bhi lagegi, hungama bhi hoga, aur pyaar bhi. Par sabse pehle, nashta ude ga.
(Today this house will see fire, chaos, and love. But first, breakfast will fly.)
Ishani's POV - 7:00 AM
I woke up to a love song being murdered.
"TUM HI HO... AB TUM HI HO... ZINDAGI AB TUM HI HO..."
My eyes snapped open. There was a strange man in my doorway. Tall. Broad. Dressed like a gym advertisement. Holding a tray of what looked like charcoal disguised as toast. Grinning like he'd already won a war I didn't know I'd enlisted for.
"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?" I grabbed the nearest weapon,a heavy gold hairpin,and aimed it at his face.
"Kabir Shergill. Advait ka best friend. Aapka naya entertainment minister. Aur aapka swagat hai," he announced, bowing so dramatically that toast crumbs showered my marble floor. (Advait's best friend. Your new entertainment minister. And welcome.)
"IT'S SEVEN IN THE GODFORSAKEN MORNING!"
"Bhabhi ji, late ho rahe ho. Nani sa ne bheja hai. Unhone specifically kaha ki agar aap paanch minute mein neeche nahi aayi, toh woh khud aayengi. Apni legendary sandalwood walking stick ke saath." He paused meaningfully. "Woh stick 1947 ki hai. Independence se pehle ki. Bohot experience hai usse." (Sister-in-law, you're getting late. Grandmother sent me. She specifically said if you don't come down in five minutes, she'll come herself. With her legendary sandalwood walking stick. That stick is from 1947. Before independence. It has a lot of experience.)
I grabbed the burnt toast and hurled it at his head. Direct hit.
He caught a piece in his mouth, chewed thoughtfully, and beamed. "Perfectly toasted. Aapko pata hai aap athlete material hain? Olympian. Discuss karein?" (Perfectly toasted. Do you know you're athlete material? Olympian. Shall we discuss?)
"GET OUT."
"I LIKE HER!" he bellowed, sprinting down the hallway. "ADVAIT! BHAI! TERI BIWI NE MUJHE TOAST MAARA! YEH PYAAR HAI! SACCHA WALA! PLATONIC!" (BROTHER! YOUR WIFE THREW TOAST AT ME! THIS IS LOVE! THE REAL KIND! PLATONIC!)
I slammed the door, leaned against it, and pressed my palms to my burning face.
"Kal raat tak main sirf contract wife thi. Aaj subah koi mujhe toast maar raha hai. Yeh ghar asylum hai. Certified," I muttered. (Until last night I was just a contract wife. This morning someone is throwing toast at me. This house is an asylum. Certified.)
My phone buzzed on the bedside table.
Rhea: Good morning biwi ji! How's the royal prison?
Rhea: Wait. Why are you awake at 7? YOU never wake at 7.
Rhea: Did something happen?
Rhea: DID PATI DEV(Husband) DO SOMETHING?
Rhea: ISHU TELL ME RIGHT NOW OR I'M DRIVING THERE.
I groaned and typed back.
Ishani: A strange man sang Arijit Singh at my door and threw toast at me. Not my husband. His best friend named Kabir.
Rhea: Kabir Shergill? The fitness freak? The one who posts gym selfies at 4 AM?
Ishani: You know him?
Rhea: Ishani. Everyone knows him. He's famous for three things. Deadlifts. Loyalty. And being clinically insane in the best way possible.
Rhea: I'm coming over. Right now.
Ishani: Rhea. No. It's chaos here.
Rhea: Rhea YES. I'll bring pani puri. Also I heard your husband has a bodyguard cousin. Karan something. Is he as serious as they say?
Ishani: Why are you asking about Karan?
Rhea: No reason. Just curious. See you in one hour. Don't let anyone kill each other.
I stared at my phone. Rhea never asked about men. Ever. In twelve years of friendship, she'd shown zero interest in anyone.
"Curious about Karan," I murmured. "Interesting."
Advait's POV - Gym, Same Time
I was mid-way through my fourth set, muscles burning, when Kabir burst through the gym doors. He was covered in toast crumbs, wearing a smile so wide it should have been illegal, and holding his phone like a trophy.
"Bhai. Bhai. BHAI."
I dropped the weights. The floor shook. "Kabir. Agar tune-"
"Teri biwi. Is. PERFECT," he declared, vaulting over a bench like an overgrown golden retriever. (Your wife. Is. PERFECT.)
"If you entered her room again without permission-"
"Nani sa ka order tha. Messenger duty. But bhai-" He grabbed my shoulders. "She throws projectiles at Olympic speed. Hundred kilometers per hour. Minimum. No warning. Direct hit." He pointed at his forehead. "Yahan lagi. Brain hil gaya. Pyaar ho gaya. Not romantic,platonic. Bhabhi wala pyaar. I'm adopting her as my sister immediately." (It hit here. My brain shook. I'm in love. Not romantic-platonic. Sister-in-law love. I'm adopting her as my sister immediately.)
"Kabir."
"And she didn't scream for you! She handled it herself! Independent queen energy! Tujhe pata hai na tune kya catch kiya hai? Tera naseeb aur teri personality dono opposites hain. Tu grumpy wolf hai. Woh fiery phoenix hai. Perfect balance. Main proud feel kar raha hoon." (You know what you've caught, right? Your luck and your personality are opposites. You're a grumpy wolf. She's a fiery phoenix. Perfect balance. I'm feeling proud.)
"I will use you as my next deadlift set."
"Dhamki mat de. Teri aankhon mein pyaar dikh raha hai. Kal raat kitchen mein pasta banaya. WiFi password badal diya 'IshaniIsMyWife'." He counted on his fingers. "Tu possessive ho raha hai. Protective ho raha hai. Aur teri body language around her-" (Don't threaten me. I can see love in your eyes. Last night you made pasta in the kitchen. This morning you took tea to her room. You changed the WiFi password to 'IshaniIsMyWife'. You're becoming possessive. Protective. And your body language around her-)
"KABIR."
"Haan bhai?"
"The next word out of your mouth. Make it about something other than my wife. Or start running."
He considered this with exaggerated seriousness. Then his face lit up. "Rudransh ne nashte mein paratha war start kar diya hai. 1923 wale jhumar pe abhi tak teen parathe latak rahe hain. Nani sa dekh rahi hain. Hass rahi hain. Ananya didi ne full enthusiasm ke saath join kiya hai. Situation critical hai." (Rudransh has started a paratha war at breakfast. Three parathas are currently hanging on the 1923 chandelier. Grandmother is watching. She's laughing. Ananya didi joined with full enthusiasm. The situation is critical.)
I closed my eyes. Counted to five. Opened them.
"Let's go."
8:00 AM - Dining Room
The dining room had transformed into a war zone.
Rajlakshmi Devi sat at the head of the twenty-seater table like a queen surveying her kingdom. Her morning tea steamed gently. Her eyes sparkled with barely concealed delight as she watched the chaos unfold.
Rudransh had a stack of parathas on his left and the energy of a sports commentator. Ananya,who had apparently arrived at dawn without telling anyone,had ammunition on her right and surprisingly lethal aim for someone so small.
Kabir was refereeing with napkin score cards.
Karan stood against the wall, deflecting stray parathas with military precision. His expression remained carved from stone,professional, distant, completely focused on his duty. Not a single crumb touched him.
Siddharth was at the far end, clutching his newspaper like a life raft, his coffee trembling in its cup.
"BHAI! BHAI DEKH! ANANYA NE MERI LEFT EYEBROW PE GHEE WALA PARATHA MAARA! STICKY HAI!" Rudransh howled when he spotted me. (BROTHER! BROTHER LOOK! ANANYA THREW A GHEE PARATHA AT MY LEFT EYEBROW! IT'S STICKY!)
"Fair tactics! You poured salt in my tea first!" Ananya yelled back, already winding up for her next throw.
"That was a PRANK!"
"THIS IS ALSO A PRANK!" She launched it. The paratha sailed through the air, past the chandelier, past Karan's dodging form, and stuck directly to the ancestral portrait of our great-grandfather.
Silence.
Absolute, horrified silence.
"That painting is from 1897," Karan said quietly. Professional. Calm. Like he was reporting a security breach. Which, technically, he was.
"Great-grandfather Singh. The one who founded the empire," Rudransh whispered, paratha forgotten, hands clasped in prayer position.
He won wars. And today there's an aloo paratha stuck to his face.
Ananya set down her remaining ammunition very, very slowly. "Nani sa? Kya dand hai mera?" (Grandmother? What's my punishment?)
Rajlakshmi Devi set down her teacup with a soft clink. Everyone held their breath.
"Teri punishment ye hai ki tu painting saaf karegi. Softly. Respectfully. Woh tumhare ancestors hain." Her eyes twinkled. "Lekin saath mein dessert bhi milega. Extra gulab jamun."(Your punishment is that you'll clean the painting. Softly. Respectfully. They're your ancestors. But you'll also get dessert. Extra gulab jamun.)
Ananya's face broke into the biggest grin. "BEST GRANDMOTHER EVER!"
"Adopted grandmother," Rudransh corrected. "But fully agreed."
And that's when I saw her.
Ishani stood in the doorway in deep maroon silk, her hair loose, her bangles catching the morning light. She was staring at the portrait, then the chandelier, then Rudransh's ghee-covered eyebrow, and finally at me. Her expression was somewhere between what the actual hell and why am I finding this adorable.
She walked toward me, her anklets chiming with each step, her expression still caught between horror and laughter. "Woh chandelier. 1923 ka. Tumne bataya tha."
"Haan."
"Aur woh painting?"
"1897. Great-grandfather. Literal empire founder."
"Aur uspe abhi aloo paratha chipka hua hai."
"Correct observation."
She stopped beside me, close enough that I could smell her perfume,jasmine and something deeper, something that made my hands itch to touch her. She looked up at me, those impossible eyes sparkling.
"Main theek fit baithti hoon yahan," she said quietly. "Pagal ghar mein pagal biwi." (I fit perfectly here. Crazy wife in a crazy house.)
Before I could answer, she grabbed a piece of toast from the nearest plate, turned, and threw it directly at Rudransh's head. Perfect aim. Perfect impact.
"BHABHI!" he shrieked, toast crumbs raining down his shoulders. (SISTER-IN-LAW!)
"Chandelier ka badla. Dada ji ki taraf se. Aur painting ka badla. Great-grandfather ji ki taraf se." She dusted off her hands. "Ab breakfast karo. Thanda ho raha hai." (Revenge for the chandelier. From grandfather. And revenge for the painting. From great-grandfather. Now eat breakfast. It's getting cold.)
The room was silent for precisely two seconds.
Then Rajlakshmi Devi laughed,a real, full, delighted laugh that seemed to echo off the walls.
"Advait,Beta, Idhar aa." She beckoned me. (Advait,Son, Come here.)
I walked to her chair. She grabbed my wrist with surprising strength.
"Tu ne apni biwi chunane mein koi galti nahi ki. Woh tujhe handle kar sakti hai. Is ghar ko handle kar sakti hai. Aur mujhe bhi." She released my wrist and patted my cheek. "Ab bas ek kaam kar. Uski raksha karna. Kuch bhi ho jaye. Samjha?" (You made no mistake in your wife selection. She can handle you. She can handle this house. And she can handle me too. Now just do one thing. Protect her. No matter what. Understood?)
"Nani sa, aap jaanti hain na?" I asked quietly. (Grandmother, you know right??)
"Main sab jaanti hoon, beta. Is ghar ki deewarein mere saamne bolti hain. Lekin abhi time nahi hai uss baat ka. Nashta karo. Phir baat karte hain." She released my wrist, her expression already smoothing back into serene authority. "Kabir! Score kya tha?" (I know everything, son. The walls of this house speak in front of me. But there's no time for that talk now. Eat breakfast. Then we'll talk. Kabir! What was the score?)
"Bhabhi wins. Undefeated champion. Toast-based fatality. Ananya close second at 7-5. Rudransh needs more training in both offense and defense," Kabir announced, holding up a napkin with '10/10' scribbled on it. (Sister-in-law wins. Undefeated champion. Toast-based fatality. Ananya close second at 7-5. Rudransh needs more training in both offense and defense.)
"NOT FAIR! BHABHI GOT SURPRISE ATTACK ADVANTAGE!" Rudransh protested.
"Accept your defeat gracefully, beta," Rajlakshmi Devi said serenely. "Or I'll let Ananya use pani puri water next time."
Rudransh sat down immediately. "I accept defeat. Completely. Fully. Please no pani puri water."
I met Ishani's eyes across the chaos. She was smiling, a real smile, unguarded and free.
And I realized something terrifying.
I wasn't just attracted to her anymore.
I was falling in love with my contract wife. Hard. Fast. Irreversibly.
11:00 AM - Living Room
The doorbell rang like a warning siren.
And then a voice that made me jump out of sudden scream.
"ISHANI VARDIAN-RAJPOOT-SINGH-RAGHUVANSHI! WHERE IS MY BABY COUSIN?! AND WHERE IS THE MAN WHO THOUGHT HE COULD MARRY HER WITHOUT MY APPROVAL?!"
Shanaya Mehra swept through the front door like she was making an entrance at her own coronation. Emerald silk saree. Diamonds at her throat. An assistant staggering behind her with enough shopping bags to open a boutique.
"Did Shanaya di just use my full married name?" I murmured to Advait. "Including Singh-Raghuvanshi?"
"She respects the brand," he murmured back.
Shanaya reached us in five long strides. She grabbed my face in both hands, examined me like a questionable investment, then air-kissed both cheeks with surgical precision.
"Glowing. Suspicious. Either the sex is good or you've discovered a new skincare routine." She stepped back, eyes narrowing. "Tell me it's the skincare. I need recommendations."
"SHANAYA DI!"
"What? I'm the cousin who asks the uncomfortable questions. Designated family role." She turned to Advait with the expression of a CEO evaluating a hostile takeover. "You. Advait Singh-Raghuvanshi. Lethal CEO. Boardroom terror. Man who once made a competitor cry via email."
"That was one time," Advait said.
"It was legendary. I have the email framed in my office." She paused. "Now. Where's the kitchen? I skipped breakfast. Deal negotiations ran late."
"Didi, abhi bhi breakfast chal raha hai. Paratha war abhi khatam hua," Rudransh said helpfully, still picking ghee from his eyebrow. (Sister, breakfast is still going on. The paratha war just ended.)
Shanaya stared at his ghee-covered eyebrow for a long moment. Then turned to me. "Ishani. Yeh kya hai?" (Ishani. What is this?)
"Paratha war. He lost."
"Clearly." She sighed. "Take me to the food. I'm too hungry to ask more questions."
Kabir appeared at that exact moment, holding a silver tray of steaming samosas. He'd changed into a fitted navy shirt. His hair was styled. But his expression was... normal. Friendly. Not flirting. Just helpful.
"Shanaya ji, aao. Nashta abhi bhi garam hai. Samosa? Aloo filling. Green chutney. Ghar ka bana hua." He offered the tray with a polite smile. Nothing extra. Just a man offering food to a guest. (Shanaya ji, come. Breakfast is still hot. Samosa? Aloo filling. Green chutney. Homemade.)
Shanaya looked at the samosa. Then at Kabir. Then at the samosa again.
"Carbs," she said flatly.
"Ghar ke carbs hain. Calories count nahi hoti," he said with a small shrug. "Lekin agar aap avoid karti hain, toh fruit plate bhi available hai. Whatever you prefer." (Homemade carbs. Calories don't count. But if you avoid them, fruit plate is also available. Whatever you prefer.)
She blinked. He wasn't pushing. Wasn't flirting. Just... being genuinely hospitable.
"I'll take the samosa," she said slowly. "One."
"Perfect. Enjoy." He handed her one, placed the tray on the side table, and walked away to talk to Rudransh about something.
Shanaya stared after him for a moment. Then looked at me.
"Woh gym selfies post karta hai na? 4 AM wali?" she asked. (That man posts gym selfies, right? The 4 AM ones?)
"Every single day," I confirmed.
"Hmm." She took a bite of her samosa. "Accha samosa hai." (Good samosa.)
11:45 AM - Living Room
The doorbell rang again. Aggressively. Repeatedly.
"ISHANI OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW I HAVE PANI PURI AND IT'S GETTING SOGGY-"
Rhea.
I yanked the door open. My best friend stood there in ripped jeans and a crop top, sunglasses pushed into her hair, holding two massive bags of street-side pani puri. She looked like chaos personified.
"FINALLY!" She shoved the bags into my hands and barged inside. "Three hours of texting! THREEE HOURS! Do you know how many crime scenarios I imagined? Kidnapping. Murder. Fashion emergency. Forced to wear polyester-"
"Rhea. I'm fine."
"You're wearing maroon silk at almost noon. You're not fine. You're either traumatized or in love." She stopped in the middle of the living room, scanning the crowd. "Where's the husband? Where's the paratha war crime scene? Where's the bodyguard I've heard about?"
"Bodyguard?" Karan's voice came from near the wall. Quiet. Professional. Completely neutral.
Rhea turned.
Karan stood there in his usual position,back straight, arms crossed, face unreadable. Black shirt. Black pants. The posture of someone who could kill you with his pinky but would rather just file paperwork about it.
"Tum Karan ho?" Rhea asked, head tilted. (You're Karan?)
"Head of Security. Karan Singh-Raghuvanshi." He didn't smile. "Aap Rhea Oberoi hain. Ishani bhabhi ki best friend. Maine aapki visitor file check ki thi." (You're Rhea Oberoi. Ishani sister-in-law's best friend. I checked your visitor file.)
Rhea's eyebrows shot up. "Meri visitor file? Tumne meri background check ki?"
"Standard security protocol. Har guest ki file check hoti hai. Basic information. Identity verification. Security risk assessment." His tone was flat. Professional. Completely uninterested. (Standard security protocol. Every guest's file is checked. Basic information. Identity verification. Security risk assessment.)
"Standard," Rhea repeated.
"Yes."
"And what did my 'basic information' tell you?"
"That you've had fourteen speeding tickets. Zero accidents. Your driving is reckless but skilled." He paused. "You're also allergic to peanuts. Kitchen has been informed. Dinner will be peanut-free."
Rhea stared at him.
Karan stared back. Expressionless. Waiting for her to move out of the doorway so he could resume his security scan.
"That's... thorough," Rhea said slowly.
"It's protocol."
"And you do this for every guest?"
"Everyone who enters this house."
"Hmm." Rhea studied him for another long moment. Karan didn't fidget. Didn't look away. Didn't do anything except stand there like a very attractive, very serious statue.
Then Rhea shrugged, turned to me, and grabbed the pani puri bags. "Chal. Pani puri khila. Yeh serious bodyguard log mera mood kharab kar raha hain apni professionalism se." (Come. Feed me pani puri. These serious bodyguards are ruining my mood with their professionalism.)
I glanced at Karan as Rhea dragged me toward the dining room. He had already turned away, eyes scanning the windows, doing his job.
But I knew my best friend. The way she'd looked at him,just a second too long. Just a flicker of curiosity.
Rhea doesn't look at men like that. Ever.
Something had sparked. Small. Tiny. Barely noticeable.
But it was there.
Karan's POV - Later
2:00 PM - Security Room
I reviewed the camera feeds systematically. East wing. West wing. Garden. Kitchen. Dining room. All clear.
Rudransh entered without knocking,as always.
"Karan bhai. Chai?" He held out a cup.
"Shift ke baad," I said. (After shift.)
"Bhai, tu kabhi relax karta hai? Kabhi chai bhi peele duty ke dauran?"
"Protocol hai. Duty pe no distractions." (It's protocol. No distractions on duty.)
Rudransh sighed dramatically. "Tera protocol ek din teri shaadi bhi arrange karega. 'Patni ke saath date night. Protocol 47-B. Romantic conversation. Section 12.'"
"Mai shaadi nahi karunga," I said flatly. (I won't get married.)
"Aisa mat bol. Nani sa ne already bride hunting start kar di hai. Tere liye bhi. Mere liye bhi. Kabir ke liye bhi,though woh khud hunting kar raha hai apparently." He grinned.
"Toh tu ne notice nahi kiya ki Rhea ji tujhe dekh rahi thi?"
My hand paused on the keyboard. For half a second. Then resumed.
"Rhea Oberoi pani puri kha rahi thi. Woh kisi ko nahi dekh rahi thi," I said. (Rhea Oberoi was eating pani puri. She wasn't watching anyone.)
"Bhai. Main wahan tha. She looked at you three times. Maine count kiya." Rudransh held up three fingers. "Teen. Teen baar."
"She's a curious person. New environment. New people. Normal behavior."
"Normal behavior hota hai ek baar dekhna. Teen baar dekhna?" He wiggled his eyebrows. "Interest hai bhai. Thoda sa. Spark."
I turned to face him fully. "Rudransh. Main security head hoon. Meri job hai logon ki raksha karna. Unki files padhna. Unki behavioral patterns analyze karna. Main professional hoon." (Rudransh. I'm head of security. My job is to protect people. To read their files. To remember their allergies. To analyze their behavioral patterns. I'm not romantically interested. I'm professional.)
"Toh agar woh tujhe aur dekhti hai?"
"Toh main apni duty karunga. Jaise hamesha karta hoon."
Rudransh stared at me for a long moment. Then he shook his head, took his chai, and walked toward the door.
"Karan bhai. Ek din koi aayegi jo tera protocol tod degi. Tab dekhna. Main record karunga." He grinned. "Ananya se camera settings seekh raha hoon." (Karan brother. One day someone will come who will break your protocol. Then you'll see. I'll record it. I'm learning camera settings from Ananya.)
He left.
I turned back to the monitors.
Rhea Oberoi was in the garden now, laughing with Ishani bhabhi. Her ponytail swung as she talked. She gestured wildly with her hands.
I watched for exactly two seconds. Then switched to the east wing camera.
Professional. Always professional.
Shanaya's POV - Afternoon
3:30 PM - Guest Room
I was reviewing quarterly reports on my laptop when a knock came at my door.
"Come in."
Kabir opened the door but didn't enter. He stood at the threshold,respectful distance. Good posture. Professional but friendly.
"Shanaya ji. Nani sa ne chai bheji hai. Adrak wali. She said aap thaki hui lag rahi thi." He held out a small tray with a single cup and biscuits on the side. (Shanaya ji. Grandmother sent tea. Ginger tea. She said you looked tired.)
I blinked. "Nani sa noticed that?"
"Nani sa sab notice karti hain." He smiled small. Not the dramatic grin from breakfast. Something quieter. "Chai acceptable hai? Ya coffee prefer karengi?" (Grandmother notices everything. Is tea acceptable? Or would you prefer coffee?)
"Chai is fine." I took the tray from his hands. "Thank you." I whispered.
"Welcome. Dinner details ke liye Nani sa ne specifically farmaish ki hai ki aap pehle hi aa jayein. Woh aapse personally milna chahti hain." (Welcome. Grandmother has specifically requested that you come early for dinner details. She wants to meet you personally.)
"Rajlakshmi Devi wants to meet me? Personally?"
"Apparently aap business magazines mein featured hui thi last month. 'Top 10 Women Entrepreneurs Under 35.' Woh article unhone tin baar padha. Bohot impressed hain." (Apparently you were featured in business magazines last month. 'Top 10 Women Entrepreneurs Under 35.' She read that article three times. Very impressed.)
I felt something warm spread through my chest. "That's... unexpected. Most people just see me as Ishani's rival.
Most people are superficial. Grandmother is deep. Deep people see deep things. Your tea is getting cold. Enjoy. If you need anything else, tell the kitchen.
He turned and walked away.
I sipped the tea.
Adrak wali. Exactly how I liked it.
Interesting man, I thought. Let's see how long the genuine act lasts.
Evening - The Family Dinner
8:00 PM - Grand Dining Room
The table was enormous. Every chair filled. The air hummed with tension.
Seated around the table:
路 Rajlakshmi Devi: Queen Mother. Watching everything with knowing eyes.
路 Advait: Head of the opposite end.
路 Ishani: Composed, Beautiful.
路 Devraj Dada ji: Silent.
路 Vikramaditya: Quiet. Eyes on his plate.
路 Gayatri Devi: Graceful. Emotional. Holding her husband's hand.
路 Yuvraj: Arms crossed. Death-glaring Advait.
路 Ananya: Phone hidden. Recording everything.
路 Shanaya: Observing Kabir from across the table with quiet curiosity.
路 Kabir: Beside Rudransh. Laughing at something.
路 Rudransh: Posture straight.
路 Karan: Standing near the door. Professional. Scanning. Doing his job.
路 Rhea: Chatting with Ananya.
路 Siddharth: Drinking water like it was the only thing keeping him alive.
"So." Devraj Dada ji's voice silenced the table. "Advait Singh-Raghuvanshi. My granddaughter's husband."
"Ji, Dada ji." Advait's voice was steady. Respectful. Unfazed.
"Maine tumhari file dekhi. Lethal CEO. Multiple business rivals neutralized. Impressive." He set down his fork with a soft clink. "But business skills se ghar nahi chalta. So tell me. Meri poti ke liye tum kya kar sakte ho jo tum apni company ke liye nahi kar sakte?" (I saw your file. Lethal CEO. Multiple business rivals neutralized. Impressive. But a house doesn't run on business skills. Family does. So tell me. What can you do for my granddaughter that you can't do for your company?)
The room held its breath.
Advait didn't flinch. "Company ke liye main profit generate karta hoon, Dada ji. Ishani ke liye main apni jaan de sakta hoon. Company replaceable hai. Woh nahi hai." (For the company, I generate profit, Grandfather. For Ishani, I can give my life. The company is replaceable. She is not.)
Dada ji's eyes narrowed. "Aur agar tumhari company aur meri poti dono ek saath khatre mein ho?"
"Pehle Ishani. Company baad mein bana mein." (Ishani first,company later.)
Silence.
Then Dada ji leaned back. "Sahi jawab. Galat jawab hota toh tera dessert cancel ho jaata."
"Sirf dessert?" Advait asked, a ghost of a smile on his lips.
"Sirf dessert. But tera jawab sahi tha." He picked up his fork. "Khaana shuru karo. Thanda ho raha hai." (Just dessert. But your answer was correct. Start eating. It's getting cold.)
Yuvraj cleared his throat. "Ek minute. Dada ji, aapne toh interrogation khatam kar diya. Mera number kab aayega?"
"Tu bhai hai. Tu apni behen ke liye protective hai. Woh acchi baat hai. But yeh ladka mujhe theek lagta hai. Ab khaana kha." Dada ji waved his fork dismissively. (Your turn doesn't exist, Yuvraj. You're the brother. You're protective of your sister. That's good. But this boy seems fine to me. Now eat.)
Yuvraj opened his mouth. Closed it. Glared at Advait one more time for good measure.
"We'll talk later," he muttered.
"Looking forward to it," Advait said calmly.
Vikramaditya stood up slowly. The table went silent again.
"Advait. Beta." His voice was heavy. "Maine tumhare papa ke saath bahut galat kiya. Jail bhej diya ek nirdosh aadmi ko. Aur main jaanta hoon tum meri beti se shaadi karke mujhe saza de rahe the. But woh meri beti hai. Please. Use mat saja do. Uski koi galti nahi hai." (Advait. Son. I did a great wrong with your father. Sent an innocent man to jail. And I know you married my daughter to punish me. But she's my daughter. Please. Don't punish her. She's not at fault.)
Tears burned my eyes. My proud father. Begging.
Advait was silent for a long moment. Then he stood. Walked to my father. And stood in front of him.
"Uncle. Aapne galat kiya. Lekin aapki beti ne,meri biwi ne,uss raat aapke khilaf aawaz uthaayi thi. Uski honesty ne mujhe usse pyaar karne ki wajah di. Aur uske pyaar ne mujhe aapse nafrat karne ki wajah chheen li." He straightened. Eyes fierce but clear. "Main aapko maaf nahi kar sakta. Abhi nahi. Lekin Ishani ke pita hone ke naate, aap mere liye izzat ke layak hain." (Uncle. You did wrong. But your daughter,my wife,raised her voice against you that night. Her honesty gave me a reason to love her. And her love took away my reason to hate you. I can't forgive you. Not yet. But as Ishani's father, you deserve my respect.)
My mother started crying. Gayatri Devi held Papa's arm as he stared at Advait in shock. Devraj Dada ji nodded slowly.
Well done. But son, keep my granddaughter happy. This is a warning. In my time, warnings came with words.
"Dada ji, talwar rakh lijiye. Zaroorat nahi padegi." Advait met his eyes steadily. "Main apni biwi ki khushi ke liye kuch bhi kar sakta hoon. Kuch bhi." (Grandfather, keep the sword. It won't be needed. I can do anything for my wife's happiness. Anything.)
Dada ji's lips twitched,almost a smile. "Dekhte hain."
After Dinner - Courtyard
Rhea's POV
The dinner was overwhelming. Too many emotions. Too many family dynamics. Too much heavy conversation.
I slipped out to the courtyard for air. The fountain splashed softly. The moon was bright.
And Karan was already there.
Standing near the pillar. Arms crossed. Scanning the perimeter even now. Even after his shift had technically ended.
"Tum kabhi rest karte ho?" I asked, walking toward him. (Do you ever rest?)
"Perimeter check important hai. Raat mein security risks increase ho jaate hain," he said without turning. (Perimeter check is important. Security risks increase at night.)
"It's a family dinner. Inside a mansion. Surrounded by guards. What security risks?"
He turned then. His expression was unreadable. "Aap jaanti nahi. Is ghar ke andar bhi khatre hain. Inside threats exist karte hain." (You don't know. There are dangers inside this house too. Inside threats exist.)
Something in his voice made me pause. "Inside threats? Like... family?"
He didn't answer. Just looked at me with those dark, serious eyes.
"Tum bohot serious ho," I said quietly. (You're very serious.)
"It's my job."
"And off duty?"
"Off duty bhi serious hoon. Nature hai." He paused. "Aapko problem hai?" (Off duty also I'm serious. It's my nature. Is that a problem for you?)
I shook my head slowly. "Nahi. Problem nahi hai. Bas... unusual hai. Bohot logon ko hasna-mazak karna pasand hai." (No. Not a problem. Just... unusual. Most people like to laugh and joke.)
"I'm not one of those people."
Silence fell between us. Not awkward. Just... quiet. The fountain continued its soft splashing.
"Tumhari driving impressive hai," he said suddenly. "Speeding tickets ke baad bhi zero accidents. Control accha hai tumhara." (Your driving is impressive. Zero accidents despite speeding tickets. You have good control.)
I laughed,surprised. "Did you just compliment my driving?"
"Observation tha. Compliment nahi." But his ears turned slightly red. Just at the tips. Barely visible in the moonlight. (It was an observation. Not a compliment.)
"Observation," I repeated, smiling.
"Haan."
"Okay, Mr. Bodyguard. Good night." I turned to go back inside.
"Good night, Rhea Oberoi."
I paused at the door. Looked back. He had resumed his position,arms crossed, scanning the darkness.
Interesting man, I thought. Very serious. Very professional. And very interesting.
That was all. Just a tiny spark. A small curiosity. Nothing more.
Not yet.
Author's POV
The night settled over the Singh-Raghuvanshi mansion. Somewhere, Rajlakshmi Devi was smiling knowingly at her ceiling. Somewhere, Devraj Dada ji was reviewing Advait's answers in his mind. Somewhere, Siddharth was making another late-night phone call.
And somewhere, four people who didn't know it yet were beginning journeys that would change everything.
Kabir and Shanaya. Cautious. Slow. She didn't trust easily. He wasn't pushing.
Karan and Rhea. Professional distance. Growing curiosity. Nothing yet. Just the smallest of seeds.
Pyaar ki kahani ek din mein nahi likhi jaati. Dheere dheere. Sahi waqt pe. Jab log taiyaar ho.
(Love stories aren't written in one day. Slowly slowly. At the right time. When people are ready.)
See you guys in the next chapter
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