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Author's P.O.V....

Garima quietly stepped inside Vedaant Nivas, her soaked white lehenga trailing water across the stone floor. Her hair was still dripping from the holy river, strands clinging to her neck and shoulders. The air around her felt heavier -not from the water, but from the memory of what just happened.

The house was modest -a typical middle-class Indian home. The entrance opened into a compact living space, with a simple fabric sofa set, a wooden centre table draped in lace cloth, and a corner showcase filled with some trophies and photos.

Near the staircase, a small temple was set into the wall -neatly maintained, with a brass diya stand and idols surrounded by marigold garlands.

Just as she stepped in -

" Hai Ram...ye kaha se bheeg kar aa rahi hai maharani ?"

The sharp voice of Tara Vedaant ( her chachi ), rang out from the dining area. Tara stood with her duppata carelessly pinned, face twisted in judgment as she looked Garima up and down.

Her tone was mocking, her eyes narrow with disapproval. She didn't miss the soaked lehenga, not the absence of the duppata.

Garima met her gaze gently, offering a soft reply. " Woh chachi.... ghat par-"

" Bas! Aate hi shuru," Tara interrupted, scoffing without waiting for explanation.

" Hostel se kuch dino ke liye aayi hai aur nautanki bhi saath le aayi! Aur ye duppata? Kahan bhool aayi ho Rani ji? Kisi hero ko gift de kar aayi kya?" Her smirk deepened, taunting without pause.

Garima lowered her eyes, water still dripping from her lashes, the ends of her hair soaked. She didn't respond -her silence spoke of habit, not defeat.

" Ek toh Bina maa-baap ki bacchi ko sambhalon upar se badle mein ye sab nautanki dekhne ko milti hai." Tara continued, hands on her waist now.

Translation : As if taking care of a girl without parents wasn't enough, on top of that. I have to witness all this drama in return.

Garima stayed quiet -her expression calm, but her emotions carefully folded within like pressed cotton. She didn't smile, didn't argue. She simply stood -drenched in water but untouched by the bitterness around her.

" Ab khadi kya hai? Jaa...kapde badal. Mere liye chai bana aur haan, Riya ( her cousin ) ke liye coffee le jaa uske kamre mein. "

Garima gave a silent nod and walked past her, her wet footprints fading on the marble.

As she disappeared down the corridor, a thought lingered in her mind -not of Tara, not of the taunts.

But of him.

The man in white.... The stranger with a storm in his eyes, The one who looked at her like she was unreal.

____

The small bedroom carried a faint scent of flowers. It was modest -walls a little faded, a single wooden cupboard in the corner, a study table by the window, and a wooden almirah. A soft cotton curtain swayed with the evening breeze as Garima sat cross-legged on her narrow bed, a thin quilt under her.

Her hair was open, slightly damp after she'd changed into a fresh peach kurta. Her eyes were fixed on a framed photo resting on her lap -her parents, Shristi and Manav Vedaant, smiling together in a moment captured long before fate turned its cruel hand.

They had died in a car accident when she was just thirteen -one rainy evening that had blurred into sirens, flashing lights, and an unbearable silence. Since then, that photograph has become her anchor -frozen happiness in a world that had changed forever.

She gently traced her fingers over their faces, a tenderness in her touch, the way one holds something sacred.

Tara's bitter words echoed in her head again. Her throat tightened. Not crying -Garima didn't cry easily -but her eyes glistened. She hugged the frame lightly to her chest and whispered.

" Maa..Papa...wish aap yaha hote. I missed you."

Just then, her phone buzzed softly on the table, the ringtone cutting through the silence. She blinked quickly, wiped her eyes gently, and reached for it.

" Hello?" she answered, voice a little hushed.

" Pauch gayi,?" came Neha's familiar voice from the other side.

" Haan, pahuch gayi," she said, trying to infuse some cheer into her voice.

" Teri awaaz ko kya hua? Down lag rahi... bata, teri chachi ne firse kuch ulta seedha bola na?" Neha asked.

Garima leaned her head back against the wall, letting her fingers lightly tap the edge of the phone. " Arey nahi yaar, aisa kuch nahi," she said with a soft, practiced laugh.

Her smile didn't reach her eyes.

" Chup kar! Mujhe pata hai kaise bolti hain voh. Unhe toh bas mauka chahiye tujhe sunane ka. Humesha tujhe feel karati hain ki tera koi nahi...aur tu bhi vaise toh itna bolti h, thora bahut unse kuch nahi bol sakti kya?"

Garima stared at the small crack in the wall near the corner of her ceiling her eyes distant. " Arey chachi hai meri, jaise bhi ho, she took care of me. Chacha-chachi ne hi toh mera dhyan rakha hai...meri padhai, kapde, sab kuch. Kaise kuch keh sakti hoon unko?"

She adjusted the pillow behind her, wrapping one arm around her legs as she listened.

" Haan haan, pata hai mujhe kitna khyal rakhte hai, aur kyun? Agar uncle aunty tere liye aapne hisse ki property chor kar nahi gye....toh ye log dekhte bhi nahi tujhe...lalchi." Neha's voice dropped into a low scoff.

Garima let out a breath. Not angry. Just quiet. She brushed a strand of hair away from her face and said gently. " Ab rehne de na. Jaise bhi ho, family toh hai. Ye sab chalta rehta hai."

There was a pause both of them knew the truth lingered between those words. Then, in a brighter tone, She tried to steer the conversation

" Chal, tu ye bata -kal ka kya plan hai? Madam, last day hai yahan hamara! Bhool gayi? college wapas bhi jana hai."

She sat up a little straighter, already trying to shift her mind away from everything else.

Neha chuckled. " Arey yaad hai! But kya karein?"

Garima suddenly lit up, eyes twinkling with an idea.

" Let's go on a little picnic with the kids! Saare ashram ke bacchon ko leke chalte hain...maza aayega!"

" Bilkul, ye sahi rahega...toh fir main so jaati hoon, kal milte hai...Good night." Neha agreed quickly, voice excited.

" Okay. Good night."

Garima cut the call, the smile still lingering gently on her face. She looked at the photo one last time that night, and for the first time since entering the house, there was faint softness in her expression.

She brought the photo close, as if drawing strength from it, then placed it carefully back beside the lamp.

The room was still, Quiet.

She lay back on the bed, pulling the thin quilt over her and staring at the ceiling fan slowly turning above.

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The sky outside lay drenched in stormy clouds, moonlight bleeding faintly through the tall glass panes of the penthouse. Inside, shadows looked tall over the lavish, minimalistic decor -obsidian marble floors, matte black shelves, a crystal decanter untouched.

Kartik sat in the heart of it all. His chair -a cold, commanding leather throne behind the dark walnut desk that doubled as his office.

There was no movement. No sound. Only him. And the white duppata in his hand.

The same one that woman had placed on his head herself, while trying to save him.

He kept thinking about her. The woman in the crowd. In that white lehenga, with cascading black hair like ink bleeding into the night....eyes that weren't just grey -they were storm grey, haunting and impossible to forget.

She hadn't left his mind since.

His fingers moved over the soft fabric, slow. Controlled. Reverent almost. But his face -utterly blank. No flicker of emotion. Yet behind that silence, the storm churned. Who was she?

Just then, the electronic lock gave a soft chime...Kartik's eyes didn't flicker. He places the duppata inside the desk drawer and shut it with the same quiet deliberation.

The door opened. Ahaan stepped in first, Vansh and Aksh followed.... finally Darsh, tall, silent and tense.

Each of them entered like they knew they were walking into a battlefield, even if the war hadn't started yet.

Kartik finally looked up. Eyes like frost. Voice like steel dipped in shadow. " Speak." he asked, looking toward Darsh.

Darsh hesitated for a second, as if his own voice feared the silence that surrounded Kartik. " Sir....that last man -he....he died in a car accident years ago." his voice was tight, strained, the tension bleeding into every word.

Kartik's jaw ticked -just slightly. But his eyes sharpened, danger creeping into their depth like a poison seeping into still water. " So he died without paying for his sins?"

The words were calm. Too calm. Calm in the way a storm settles before tearing everything apart.

Darsh felt the air shift-he didn't move, but every cell in his body screamed to flee.

Kartik leaned forward just a fraction, voice now coated in a velvet menace. " What about his family?"

Darsh blinked, throat dry. " But, Sir -"

" I asked about his family, Darsh." Kartik's voice sliced through Darsh's attempt like a blade.

His eyes cold and steady, didn't flinch -just stared. A stare that could shatter willpower. That could carve fear into a man's bones without lifting a finger.

Darsh's breath hitched as he swallowed, his voice cracking at the edges. " His wife died with him in the accident. But...but he had a daughter. She survived. She lives with her chacha and chachi now."

A beat of silence followed. Not peace. Something far more dangerous - Kartik's silence. That kind that held consequence.

He leaned back slowly, eyes unreadable, but a flicker of something dark danced beneath -like a storm rising behind ice. " Hmm..His daughter, tell me about her."

Darsh hesitated. His fingers twitched at his side. " Sir, " he fumbled, then quickly pulled out a sleep black tab from the inside of his coat. He placed the tab on the desk between them.

Kartik didn't touch it right away. His eyes locked with Darsh's for a breathless moment. Then, slowly, he leaned forward and tapped the screen.

The image loaded. A woman. Young, her features calm, unaware of the world that had started watching her.

And kartik stilled. Not obvious. But something shifted. A flicker.

As if something long dormant had stirred. Not warmth. Not softness. But a recognition. A fire. Like a predator catching the scent it's been hunting for years, like destiny dressed in skin and secrets.

His gaze didn't waver from the screen. Darsh cleared his throat carefully. " Her name is Garima. Final-year Astronomy student at a university in Jaipur. Lives in a hostel near the campus...here she lives with her chacha -chachi. She-"

Kartik lifted his hand. Just a slight gesture. But it silenced the room like a command from death itself.

And then....he whispered it.

" Garima."

The name left his lips like a secret. A spell. Soft...but soaked in darkness. As if the mere sound of her name carried weight Attraction. Intrigue. Possession.

It wasn't just a name to him anymore. It was the beginning.

Something in his expression darkened -but not with rage. With intent. As if the universe had just handed him the last missing piece of a puzzle he didn't even realize he'd been bleeding for.

Vansh and Ahaan exchanged a glance at each other. Kartik's eyes stayed on her face. Burning. Calculating. Claiming.

The room was cloaked in heavy silence, the kind that could suffocate thought. Kartik stood, eyes still cold, unreadable. He turned to Darsh, voice as quiet as death.

" Prepare the car. We'll go to Vedaant Nivas tomorrow." A pause. Then, without emotion. " And find everything about her."

Darsh immediately nodded. " Yes, sir." He turned on his heel and walked out , the air outside the room a sudden contrast to the heavy weight within..

As he stepped into the corridor, Aksh fell into step beside him. Darsh leaned closer, whispering his voice lined with worry. " Aksh bhai....what will sir do with her? Is he going to....kill her?".

Aksh shot him a sharp glare, voice low but biting. " Darsh, shut your mouth if you want to stay alive." He grabbed his arm, halting his pace for a beat. " Better to do as sir says. Don't ask questions. He hears everything. Remember everything."

Darsh swallowed hard, nodded quickly and moved on.

Inside the shadowed room, the atmosphere was shifting like a loaded storm cloud.

Ahaan, lounging near the window, looked up. " Bhai, what are you thinking?"

Vansh, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, watched kartik closely. He knew that look. That stillness that came before the chaos.

" What are you planning to do with her?" His voice was calm.

Kartik didn't respond immediately. His eyes remained fixed on the faint reflection in the black tab screen -on the image of her.

And then....quietly. Dangerously. " She's the reason her father was involved... Isn't it better if she pays for it?" He turned his gaze toward them, slow deliberate.

Ahaan frowned, clearly confused. Vansh straightened, his posture tight.

" Are you planning to kill her?" he asked bluntly, his voice quiet.

Kartik didn't blink. He simply said -" You'll know...when we reach there."

The room felt silent again. Not with peace -but with certainty. Something had begun.

_____

The Next day...

The air smelled of wet earth and sandalwood. A calm breeze drifted from the river, rustling through the peepal trees. The picnic spot near the ashram grounds was modest -a shaded clearing with flat stones to sit on, and a view of the Ganga flowing in soft silver ripples. Children's laughter echoed through the space, carried on the winds like tiny bells.

Garima sat cross-legged on a mat, helping out the younger kids tie their shoelaces. Her face glowed in the soft sun, a light smudge of ice cream at the tip of her nose and the children giggled.

" Neha, pass me that napkin!" she called out, laughing.

Neha, handed it over, grinning. " Saaf karne ki kya jarurat hai... ase jada achi lag rahi."

Dev uncle, chuckled from nearby as he watched the children run across the grass. " It's good to see them smile like this," he said softly.

Garima nodded, eyes warm. " They deserve it. Every bit of this joy."

Suddenly -

THUD!

A small boy, Rahul, barely five, bumped straight into the legs of a man standing by the edge of the path. The ice cream cone in Rahul's hand tilted, leaving a messy streak on the man's pristine beige trouser.

" Ugh! What the hell!" the man barked, stepping back, eyes flaring with disgust.

He looked down at the child as if he were vermin. " Watch where you're going, you little-!"

Rahul flinched, eyes wide. Garima was on her feet in a flash. " I'm so sorry Uncle, it was just an accident. He's only a child -please, don't be upset."

She gently pulled Rahul behind her, shielding him.

But that man wasn't done. He glanced at the boy's faded, patched clothes and scoffed. " These types...no manners. No class. You people should keep them on a leash or teach them to behave in public. "

Garima's smile dropped. Silence felt around her. Even the breeze paused. She took a step forward, eyes narrowed but calm. " These types, huh?"

She crossed her arms. " Aapki himmat Kasi hui humare bacchon ke liye asa bolne ki....sorry bola na humne...and manners ? Ye toh aapko khud ke liye kehna chaiye...tameez nahi hai chote bacchon se baat karne ki aap ke andar?"

The man blinked, startled.

She wasn't done. " Bacche h , ager galti ho jaye toh pyar se samjhaya jata ase unko public mein bezzat nahi kiya jata...Khud ne kapde pehne hai ase jaise kisi bacche ke chura kar laaye hai aur humare bacchon ke kapde dekh kar class ki baat kar rahe...inse acha toh kale ke patte latka lijiye Kam se kam fit toh aayege.."

A couple nearby stifled laughter, the children chuckled.

" And as for behaving in public -maybe try not yelling at five year olds next time....next time humare bacchon ke liye fir ulta seedha kuch bole toh ganga maiya mein dooba denge."

A ripples of chuckles passed through the people standing around. The man scowled, muttered something under his breath, and stormed off, brushing at his trouser.

Garima turned to Rahul, crouching to his level with a warm smile. " You okay, baccha?"

He nodded, hugging her. Neha came over and nudged her. " Kya ache se toast kiya tune un uncle ko.."

Garima. " Ha toh karte kyu nahi...aise kase koi bhi aake humare bacchon ko kuch bhi bol jayega...6ft zameen ke niche dafan kar denge kisi ne bola bhi toh."

The air was filled with echoes of laughter, wrappers crinkling and birds chirping in the trees.

Garima stood under the shade of a tree. Checking her phone when it buzzed sharply in her hand.

Incoming call : chachi

Her brows furrowed slightly. She stepped aside, a few feet away from the group. Her voice dropped low as she answered, pacing slowly. The call didn't last long, but something in her expression shifted ever so slightly when it ended.

Neha called out casually, " who was it?"

Garima turned back, tucking her phone into her bag. " Chachi. She called me home urgently."

Neha frowned. " Urgent huh? There's no way it's actually urgent. I bet she just wants to lecture you about something again."

Garima chuckled softly but looked uncertain. " Maybe...but what if it is something important this time?"

Neha rolled her eyes, groaning. " Ugh fine. I'm coming with you.... I'll not leave you alone."

Garima turned to the children who were now huddled near Dev, licking the last of their melting ice creams and play-fighting with empty wrappers..

She clapped her hands gently. " Okay bacchon, listen up! I have to go now...koi bhi dev uncle ko pareshan nahi karega or safely unke sath vapis ashram jaoge."

" Didi, don't worry. Hum aapna khyal rakh sakte hai, we're more mature than you are." One of the kids said, puffing his chest.

The other kids burst into laughter, high fiving him as Garima narrowed her eyes playfully.

" Haan haan, tum sab ko toh ek din peepal ke ped se latka denge...shaitaan kahi ke."

Even Dev laughed, shaking his head. " Acha chalo, choro ye sab. Tum dono jao main hoon inke sath."

Garima bent down to ruffle a little girl's hair, stealing one last moment of warmth before she straightened.

___

The atmosphere outside was no less than a brewing storm. A line of men dressed in tailored black suits stood like shadows carved from stone -expressionless, dangerous. Each one radiated an aura of menace, like they belonged to something not bound by laws or conscience. Neha gripped garima's wrist, her voice a whisper laced with fear.

" Garima...who are these people?"

" I don't know," Garima replied, equally confused, her heart picking up speed as the air thickened around them.

As they stepped inside, what they saw stole the breath from their lungs.

Tara chachi, Sanjay chacha and Riya -all knelt on the floor, heads bowed, fear dripping from every pore. The once peaceful house felt like a graveyard of silence, the very walls tense as if holding their breath. A few more men stood silently by the walls- armed, alert. Watching.

Garima rushed forward. " Chachu? Chachi? What...what is this? Why are you all sitting like this?"

And then she saw him. Kartik. Sitting like a crowned shadow on the living room couch, one leg crossed over the other, surrounded by silence. Ahaan and Vansh stood like sentinels beside him -silent, unreadable.

Her breath hitched. Her world spun for a second. " A-aap?"

Kartik's gaze slowly rose to her. Calm, but dangerous. Cold steel beneath the fire.

" So you've come. I was waiting," he said, his voice low and slow, with the kind of calm that breeds terror.

Garima blinked. " Y-You were waiting for me? Why?"

His gaze locked on hers, unwavering intense -like a predator sizing up his prey. His stillness was more terrifying than rage. Eyes dark as night, glinting with something primal.

She turned to her chachu, voice trembling. " Chachu? Chachi? What is going on?"

Tara and Sanjay stood up slowly, hesitant eyes on Kartik as if awaiting silent permission. Then, with broken voices, they began explaining her father's past -his involvement in a murder that had shattered the Aaryansh family years ago.

The words were muffled, as if the air around her had become thick with water. Garima's face changed into horror then pain. Her knees gave in but Neha caught her in time.

" No...no, this isn't true." Her voice cracked. She clutched her chest, shaking his head. " You're lying...papa...he would never -!"

She looked at kartik. His eyes were closed now, expression stoic, bored even. " Dekhiye! Whoever you are, " Garima's voice cracked with fury. " GET OUT! Right now! This is NOT true! You're lying! My father did nothing -I won't marry you!"

Silence. Kartik didn't move. His eyes remained closed, jaw tight, as if her voice was nothing more than an irritating wind.

" Didn't you hear me?!" she yelled louder.

Suddenly - SLAP.

Tara grabbed her and slapped her hard, her voice erupting like a volcano. " CHUP! Not a single word! You think this is a joke? That man, your father, brought death upon his family and ours -and the reason was you...now we're paying the price...you have to marry!"

Garima staggered back, tears welling. " Chachi... please...papa didn't -"

Before she could finish - BANG!

A gunshot tore through the room. Everyone screamed. Riya ducked. Sanjay grabbed his wife. Neha screamed, Garima fell to her knees, ears ringing, eyes wide.

Kartik now stood, towering above her. Calm, cold... monstrous.

He walked toward her slowly. Each footsteps like a drumbeat of fate. He crouched down, gun still in hand. His gloved fingers reached out and gently lifted her chin.

Their eyes meet. Hers full of terror and disbelief. His full of fire.

" Shhh," he whispered. " I didn't come here to watch your family drama...or to give you a choice."

Garima trembled, tears slipping down her cheeks. " W-why...why marry me? Why not just kill me if you want revenge?"

A smile flickered across his lips -dark, mocking, cruel. " You think death is punishment? No," he said softly. " Death is mercy. You'll marry me, sweetheart. And suffer every single day. This marriage...will be your hell."

Her body shook, voice barely audible. " N-No... please..."

Kartik's eyes darkened further. He pointed the gun at her friend.

" Say 'no' again...and I'll empty every bullet into each skull in this room. Starting from your dear friend."

Everyone froze... Neha horrified. He stepped back, turning toward Tara and Sanjay, who stood shaking. " Prepare her, " he ordered. " The wedding happens tomorrow."

A cruel smirk touched his lips, but his eyes blazed with vengeance as they landed on Garima once more.

" She will marry, she have to...and she will regret every breath."

Tara grabbed Garima roughly. " Riya! Take her to the room now! And you Neha...dost ho tum iski..talk some sense into this girl."

Garima was yanked away. She didn't resist. She couldn't. The weight of everything crushed her soul like a stone. Tears blurred her vision.

Sanjay, stammered. " We-we'll do everything you say... please don't harm us...we didn't know..."

Kartik turned slowly. Dead calm. " Make sure she doesn't run. And one more thing..."

He stepped forward -swift, terrifying -slamming the cold metal of the gun against Tara's forehead. She gasped, paralyzed.

His voice dropped into a deadly whisper, eyes boring into hers. " She's going to marry me. dare to raise your hand on her ever again...and say anything against her... in front of her, me or anyone else... I'll bury you, your husband and your daughter alive."

Tara whimpered. " I-I won't... please..."

He dropped his hand. And with that, he walked out. The air felt colder in his absence. Outside, he entered the car. Vansh and Ahaan slid in behind him, faces blank.

Ahaan finally spoke. " Bhai....are you sure you're going to marry her? Why?"

Vansh added quietly, " I didn't expect this..."

Kartik stared out the window, voice low. " I'll marry her. And she'll pay. For every sin her father committed...death will be mercy for her...but this marriage will be her punishment...and my revenge." he didn't blink, there is fire in his eyes full of vengeance.

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