26

Chapter 25 (Tender Kisses)

Author’s POV

Rudransh was still staring at the empty doorway like she had set fire to the room and walked out with the match still lit between her fingers.

“Try to keep up.”

Her words were echoing like a challenge wrapped in silk and venom.

Rudransh’s jaw clenched, the muscle twitching. The heat still lingered on his wrist, his throat, in his chest.

Everywhere where her scent had touched. The air inside his office felt thick, charged, and every breath like dragging smoke into his lungs.

He hadn’t moved. He couldn’t.

As he couldn't move until the tension inside him snapped like a loaded spring.

There was an unsaid feeling growling inside his chest. In frustration he threw the chair back and walked toward the door but he did not want to go out. Instead, he locked it.

Click.

He was taking depe breath as if he was trying to control his anger. As if he trying to control the storm inside his chest.

His fingers ran through his hair once. Then twice. Then his fist slammed against the wood behind him, sharp and brutal, like an exorcism.

“What the fuck is happening to me…?” he muttered, voice ragged.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

He should be the one in control not her.

She wasn’t supposed to touch me like that.

She wasn’t supposed to affect me.

And he sure as hell wasn’t supposed to want more.

He is Rudransh Singh Rathore.

A crowned Prince of Udaipur, Rajasthan. He is a strategist. A ruthless beyond reason. A man who destroyed distractions, not craved them.

But that woman, that stubborn, maddening, infuriating Nitya Maheshwari.

She was chaos in heels. Every inch of her screamed defiance. Her eyes challenged him, her hands tempted him, and her mouth...

He could still feel her breath near his ear. That whisper. That promise.

"You’ll have to catch me first."

He would.

Not just catch her. He will own every breath she dared to steal from him. Not because of love. No. Because she had become someone he refused to lose.

On The Other Side

Nitya's heels clicked sharply as she walked down the corridor.

Her heart was racing, her pulse was wild but her face remained calm, composed, and almost smug.

Every step felt like claiming victory.

But underneath that cool expression was a volcano. Her skin still tingled where Rudransh had held her.

Her fingers were still trembling slightly from threading through his hair. And her chest… God, her chest was still heaving from holding back what her body wanted to scream.

“Why does it feel like I’m dancing with danger… and liking it?”

Her lips curled into a knowing smile.

But just as she reached the staircase, her phone buzzed.

It was Neil.

One word.

"Car."

She stared at the message a moment longer. A different kind of guilt pricked her now. It was sharp, and unexpected.

Neil…

He didn’t deserve what happened. Not the way Rudransh humiliated him. Not the way she’d been helpless in that moment. Or perhaps, her not willing enough to stop it.

With a deep breath, she adjusted her dress again and made her way to the car.

After Ten Minutes

Knock. Knock.

The knock wasn’t loud but it cut through the thick silence of Rudransh’s office like a blade.

He didn’t say anything.

Not at first.

Still standing in the middle of the room which  he had locked moments ago, Rudransh stared ahead. His jaw tight, chest still rising and falling with quiet fury.

Another knock. This time firmer.

“Bhai?” Veer’s voice followed from the other side. “It’s me and Arjun.”

Rudransh let out a heavy breath. Then he pushed off the door, and walked across the room. His fingers twisted the lock.

Click.

The door opened.

Veer and Arjun entered. Both of them were looking tense. Their eyes scanning their older brother like they were bracing for a storm. And they weren’t wrong.

Without a word, Rudransh walked back to his desk. He poured himself a glass of water but didn’t drink it.

He just stared at the ripples for a second before tossing the glass aside. It thudded softly on the desk.

“What happened?” Arjun asked carefully, sitting down.

Veer stayed standing. “We saw her leaving,” he said, trying to keep his tone neutral.

Rudransh didn’t respond immediately.

Instead, he slowly sat down in his chair. Then he leaned back, and ran a hand down his face.

Then he looked at them. The usual cold control in his eyes was gone. It was replaced by something darker. Restless.

“I underestimated her,” he said finally. “Completely.”

Veer raised an eyebrow. “You mean Nitya?”

Rudransh nodded slowly, like admitting it burned his throat.

“Earlier I thought she was harmless,” he said, voice low. “Just a girl from a royal house. Shy. Intelligent. I didn't not take her someone who could shake the foundation of this empire.”

He leaned forward now, elbows on the desk. His fingers interlocked tightly.

“But she’s not harmless. She’s clever. Strategic. And dangerous because she knows exactly how to strike without ever being seen.”

Arjun exchanged a glance with Veer. “This isn’t just about today, is it?”

“No.” Rudransh’s eyes burned. “This is about the Johnsons deal. The most important deal we’ve been working on for the last year."

Then he paused and continued, "The deal that would tie Rathore Industries with three global supply chains. The deal that would put us ahead of everyone else in the Indian and European logistics sector.”

Veer’s brow furrowed. “You think she messed with it?”

“I don’t think,” Rudransh snapped. “I know.”

His hand slammed onto the desk, startling them both. “Garvit doesn’t know what’s going on. Our legal team hasn’t received the final draft. And this morning, Johnson’s assistant said they’re ‘reconsidering the partnership model.’ That phrase wasn’t in anyone’s vocabulary till now.”

Arjun leaned forward. “But how could she?”

“She was in the same restaurant with Neil yesterday as their regional team,” Rudransh cut in. “Same time. Same place as us. You think that’s coincidence?”

Veer sighed, finally sitting down across him. “What now?”

Rudransh stood abruptly. He was pacing the room like a lion too big for its cage.

“I want everything back in my control,” he said firmly. “Every paper, every call, every backroom discussion. I don’t care to whom she spoke to, who she tried to outsmart. I want all of it in front of me.”

He turned sharply to them. “She’s playing a game. Fine. But this is my kingdom. And no one, no one can make moves in it without me knowing.”

There was silence for a beat.

Then Veer spoke quietly. “Bhai… you sure this is just about the deal?”

Rudransh stopped.

Turned.

His jaw ticked again. “Don’t go there, Veer. Jitna kaha jaye utna karo. Don't cross the line."

(Translation: Do as much as you are told. )

Arjun’s gaze was steady. “You’ve never reacted like this before. Not even when Rathore shares dropped 8% last year.”

Rudransh’s lips pressed into a line. “I’m not reacting. I’m responding.”

“To what?”

His silence stretched like a loaded gun.

Then he said too calmly, “To a threat. And I don’t like threats.”

He looked up, eyes cold again. “We play it smart now. We find out everything she’s done. And we cut off every move she’s making one by one.”

Veer nodded slowly. “Alright. Then we start tonight. We’ll trace every thread. But I wish I could say I'm team Nitya. That girl impress me beyond anything.”

Rudransh stared at him, warning him to shut up. But he was Veer, so he continued.

"I mean see, whole Rathore Empire is dancing on her tunes. Aur aap Rudransh bhai dekho Jo hum nhi kar sake usnai aap ke sath kar diya."

[Translation: See, what we couldn't do with you? She has done.]

"Before I will throw you out. Just shut your mouth," Rudransh said in dangerously low tone.

"Arjun bhai," Veer moved towards him. "Bata aaj tak kisinai Rudransh bhai kai khilaf janey ki koshish ki?"

[Translation: Tell, has anybody tried to go against Rudransh bhai ever?"]

Arjun nodded his head negatively.

"Rudransh bhai, aap sochte rahoge ki you are winning, you are controlling but trust me, she is controlling you. Your every emotion if you aren't going to accept now then God knows how many Neil you have to deal with."

Before Rudransh could say anything further, Veer ran outside and winked at Arjun.

In the Car

The car rolled through the rain-kissed roads of Udaipur. The rhythmic sound of droplets tapping against the windows syncing with the unsettled thudding of Nitya’s heart.

She was sitting in the back seat, the leather cold beneath her, but her palms were warm.

They were sweaty, almost resting motionless on her lap. She hadn’t spoken since they left the Rathore Mansion. She couldn’t.

In the driver’s seat, Neil’s facewas firm, his eyes never leaving the road. His silence wasn’t new.

Neil was a man of few words, but this silence... this was different.

This was disappointment.

This was distance.

Nitya’s chest tightened.

She had not seen him get shot at, take blows, walk into danger for her brother.

But she knew that her brother told her how he had done it all without expecting praise or thanks.

But today, he had stood alone… in front of Rudransh… humiliated. Not by action, but by her inaction.

She hadn’t stopped it.

And maybe the worst part?

A piece of her was the foolish, reckless piece. She had been too wrapped up in the fire that was Rudransh Singh Rathore to even notice Neil’s hurt until later.

She lowered her eyes, shame washing over her. Her reflection stared back at her from the glass.

Her soft makeup, kohl-smudged lashes, a faint trace of Rudransh’s cologne still clinging to her and all of it felt like a betrayal.

Neil had protected her for years.

And today… she hadn’t protected his dignity.

The quiet in the car was heavy.

Even the city, outside the window, seemed to understand. Udaipur’s lamps flickered through misty rain.

The lake’s waters were still. Even lights felt distant tonight, like she was no longer belonged to this city she once called home.

Her gaze shifted back to the road. Neil’s hands were firm on the wheel, shoulders tense.

He hadn’t even looked at her.

She needed to make it right.

But how do you apologize to someone who doesn’t ask for anything?

Someone who silently bleeds, expecting nothing in return?

And then… it came to her.

A date. A moment. A memory long tucked away.

His birthday.

He’d never said it out loud. But she remembered once, years ago, his file open on her desk.

It was June 10th. No celebrations. No cake. Just another quiet passing day in a world where Neil never put himself first.

Her heart skipped.

That was it.

She would give him the celebration he never got.

It was going to be extravagant. Not to show off. But to remind him that she noticed.

That he mattered. That his silence tonight had shaken her more than any insult Rudransh could ever throw.

Her eyes flicked toward the front again, to the man who still hadn’t spoken a word.

You’ll smile again, Neil.

She leaned her head gently against the window. The raindrops on the glass blurred the city lights, but her vision was clear now.

The Next Day

Nitya was standing in the heart of the drawing room. She was pacing slowly, barefoot, and clutching her phone and notebook.

Her eyebrows furrowed, lips pressed into a thoughtful line. A list of ideas circled her mind, all leading to one cause, Neil.

She wanted to do something special. Something unforgettable. After the way he stood by her brother everytime,after the way Rudransh had humiliated him, Neil deserved a night that reminded him of his worth.

But this wasn’t just about Neil.

No. She was also going to use this party as a power play.

"I will do something which Rathore Empire would have never anticipated. You would have never expected that Mr Rudransh Singh Rathore," she said under her breath.

"This isn't a simple party, Mr Rathore. Aapke toh pero taley zameen nikal jayegi."

[Translation: Ground will slip under your legs.]

A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips.

Let’s see how will you like surprise, Mr Rudransh Singh Rathore.

She glanced at her planner again, eyes narrowing in concentration.

"Decorations… red and gold, he loves warm tones. Cake, hazelnut and mocha. Music, jazz to start, then his favourite R\&B playlist. Guest list… limited.”

She wrote Neil’s close friends names.  Some of them were their mutual college mates.

Then there were few dignitaries from the business world, and a handful of trusted Maheshwari allies. It would be grand, but still personal.

And the final touch, there will be a grand announcement at the end of the evening.

But to make all of this happen… Neil had to go somewhere for at least a day.

At Midnight

It was nearly midnight, but sleep didn’t touch her eyes. Nitya sat curled up on the bay window.

The velvet curtains were half-drawn, her phone resting beside her with an open notepad of her list.

She bit her lip.

It wasn’t just about Neil anymore. The idea had bloomed into something more.

It was going to be an opportunity. It will be strategic, bold, public. And poetic.  Then she thought something and her fingers hovered over her phone.

She needed her brother.

Nitya dialed. It didn’t even ring twice.

Aditya: “Ananya, you alright?”

His voice, deep and warm even through the phone. It made her chest tighten. It always did.

Nitya (softly): “You’re still awake.”

Aditya: “I can't sleep when your name flashes on the screen at midnight.”

Then there was a pause, and a sigh. “What’s going on?”

Nitya: “I… need your help.”

Aditya (teasing): “So you finally admit it?”

Nitya (laughs lightly): “Don’t push your luck.”

Another pause. She stood and walked to her bed. She was running a hand over her sketchbook and the planner she’d half-filled with ideas.

Nitya: “It’s Neil’s birthday in four days. He hasn’t said anything, but I know him. He never makes it about himself. But he’s… done a lot for you and our family. I want to surprise him.”

Aditya (lovingly): “You’ve always been like that. Always quietly watching, and remembering everyone’s smallest moments. Fine. Tell me what do you need?”

Nitya: “I want to host the party at the mansion. Our mansion. Something big… but warm. Everyone who matters will be there.”

She paused.

Nitya (lowering her voice): “Including the Rathores.”

There was silence on the other end.

Aditya (sharply): “Why?”

Nitya: “Because they need to see it. The Maheshwaris aren’t hiding in the shadows anymore. We’ve got something which they never thought of. And I want the world to hear it from me.”

Aditya: “So it’s not just a birthday party?"

Nitya (quietly): “No. It’s never can be.

Aditya exhaled through his nose, pacing in his Jaipur palace hallway. The golden chandeliers were casting shadows on his sharp profile.

Aditya: “Do i

t. But not alone. I will be with you."

Nitya: “That’s the other reason I called. Moreover, I need Neil away for a day. So I can plan it all. It should feel like a real surprise.”

Aditya: “Done. I’ll call him tomorrow. I will tell him that there’s something he needs to handle."

Nitya (smiling softly): “You always cover me.”

Aditya: “And I always will. But Nitya…”

His voice hardened, the softness melting into steel.

“If you’re going to do this in front of the Rathores and the city’s elite, I want our guards around you. All of them. You don’t step outside alone, not this week. Understood?”

She opened her mouth as she was about to argue, but the weight of his concern sat between them like an anchor.

Nitya (quietly): “Okay.”

Aditya: “You’re not just my sister, Nitya. You’re Maheshwari blood. And now… a symbol.”

She blinked, chest tightening.

Aditya (warmly): “I never doubted your capabilities. So now go and sleep."

Next Evening

The faint aroma of sandalwood lingered in the air, mingling with the crisp scent of fresh paper and ink.

Nitya was sitting behind her grand mahogany desk. Her fingers slowly circling the rim of a ceramic cup filled with untouched lavender tea.

She was wearing a deep emerald blouse, simple yet regal, paired with beige trousers.

Her long hair cascaded over one shoulder, still slightly tousled from the restless night she’d spent thinking and planning.

Despite holding a master’s degree in business, Companies and business never tempted her.

It was lines, textures, expressions. Sketching wasn’t a hobby; it was a language that her grandfather had taught her before she even learned alphabets.

But life had other ideas.

Now she was sitting behind a desk too big for comfort and a legacy too heavy to escape.

"But I don't leave anything that easily, Mr Rathore. And my dreams, never a chance."

Though publicly her role was ceremonial. Like she was a heiress with a love for art.

But the truth was far more complex. Behind those closed doors, it was Aditya, her brother, who had been moulding her.

Night after night. He was guiding her through strategies, loopholes, and corporate traps.

With his handpicked compliance, governance, and risk management team in the shadows, her training had been intense, quiet, deadly.

She was no naive princess.

She just played when it suited her.

The delicate ticking of the antique wall clock was the only sound in the cabin until the door creaked open softly.

Her eyes turned slowly.

There was a young woman stepped inside. Her P.A. 

Her shoulders squared, tablet clutched nervously to her chest. Her name was Kritika, and although Aditya had assigned her personally. It seemed like the girl was still adjusting to Nitya’s presence.

For a moment, Nitya looked at her face, then leaned back slightly, voice calm but assertive. “Kritika, invitations been sent to all the important names across the city?”

Kritika nodded quickly. “Yes, ma’am. The guest list was from Mr. Aditya’s office has been followed."

She paused and then continued, "The political leaders, prominent business families, designers, influencers, everyone’s received it.”

“Johnson Enterprises?” Nitya asked, her gaze narrowing slightly.

Kritika's fingers danced nervously on her tablet screen. “Yes, ma’am. Sent early this morning.”

A beat.

“And the Rathore Empire?” Nitya asked, her voice smooth but loaded.

Kritika blinked. Her lips parted slightly as if to speak but nothing came out at first. “Uh… that’s the only one remaining, ma’am.”

Nitya’s lips curled into a slow, almost dangerous smile. She kept the teacup down with a gentle clink.

Kritika flinched slightly, panic rising. “I-I was just about to send someone.”

“Stop.” Nitya stood, the chair sounded like whispering against the floor.

Her heels clicked with quiet power as she circled the desk, standing now at eye level with Kritika.

“I’ll invite them personally."

Kritika's brows shot up. “Ma’am?”

Nitya tilted her head. “Ask the driver to bring the car around in five minutes.”

Kritika nodded, moving out of the cabin with quick steps.

Nitya walked over to the wide glass pane and looked out at the quiet Udaipur skyline. Her fingers brushed the edge of her invitation envelope, embossed in gold.

It was 8 PM.

By now, the Rathore Mansion would be glowing. Every chandelier lit, every corridor alive.

The same mansion where she was once humiliated. The same mansion from where she had walked out of with her head high and her heart bruised.

But tonight, she would return. Not as the fragile girl they underestimated.

But as Maheshwari’s heir.

As the storm they never saw coming.

She smoothed down her outfit once more, the emerald stone on her ring was catching the last light of day.

It was time to go back.

To the place where it all began.

After A Few Minutes

The heavy gates of Rathore Mansion creaked open with practiced elegance as the sleek black car pulled to a graceful stop at the foot of the wide marble steps.

The late evening sky above Udaipur painted the air in hues of orange and lavender. It was casting golden reflections across the polished car bonnet.

Inside the car, Nitya was sitting composed in the back seat. The warm light was slipping in through the tinted window highlighting her delicate features.

Her eyes were fixed on the towering palace in front of her. It was a place that once held warmth, and now, shadows of insult, control, and power.

Her fingers toyed with the edge of the engraved envelope on her lap the invitation.

After giving one final look into the rearview mirror, a breath pulled deep into her chest, and then... the car door clicked open.

She stepped out slowly, her heels meeting the smooth stone like a steady rhythm of purpose.

Her dress. It was a deep emerald green that shimmered. It was hugging her curves with grace.

Every step which she was taking made the fabric flow like a silent statement.

Her hair was pulled into a regal low bun, with just one tendril framing her face. Poised. Untouched. Dangerous.

As she made her way inside, the grand doors of Rathore Mansion were already opened by the butler.

They bowed with slight hesitation, and unsure whether to greet her or not.

But Nitya didn’t need their confirmation anymore. She walked in like she belonged because  she would go back on her own terms.

The atmosphere inside was unexpectedly warm. Everyone from the Rathore Family was gathered in the lavish living room.

The room was lit in golden hues, the chandeliers glittering above like stars caught in glass.

The clinking of teacups and the low hum of polite conversation floated in the air.

Veer was seated on the central couch beside Dadi Sa, Arjun opposite him, with him leaning close to her grandmother.

Rudransh was standing by the ornate fireplace. His back partially turned. He was discussing something with Garvit.

And Devyani, ever composed, was sitting like a queen on the side seat. Her eyes were like hawks, scanning everyone.

Then silence.

The moment Veer’s gaze caught hers, his mouth parted slightly in surprise before blooming into a wide, boyish grin.

“Nitya?” he called her name with unmistakable delight, rising to his feet.

His voice cut through the room.

Every head turned.

Time halted for a second just enough for eyes to lock. The expressions to shift, and memories to rise.

Rudransh’s dark eyes snapped toward the entrance, and the moment they found her, they froze.

His spine straightened, jaw tensed. The woman standing there in her emerald dress wasn’t the Nitya Maheshwari who had left that house days ago.

She was sharper, colder and bolder. She had walked into his empire with steel in her gaze and fire in her silence.

For a heartbeat, even Rudransh forgot to breathe.

And Devyani, oh, she almost rolled her eyes, her nails digging into the armrest of her seat.

The instinct to mock, to remind, to reclaim power.  It surged in her like venom. But before a single word could pass her lips, Aditya’s voice returned like thunder in her head.

"You’ve crossed the line once. Don’t make the mistake of doing it again. Meera lives under Maheshwari's roof. So, do not play games with my blood."

She swallowed her irritation like poison laced with fear. Her lips pressed together in silence, her gaze dropping.

Meanwhile, she shifted first, and stood up to her feet and gave a fake smile. “Nitya, come in…”

Dadi Sa followed, her face warm as always. “What a surprise, Nitya beta. It’s good to see you again.”

Arjun merely raised a brow. He was hiding his confusion under the rim of his teacup.

Veer stepped forward. He was already moving toward her like the reunion they didn’t know they needed.

But Rudransh… he didn’t move. Not a step. His eyes didn’t blink. Not once.

Because the woman who once trembled under his fury, now walked into his world with the composure of a queen.

And it stirred something in him that was far from fury, something more dangerous.

"Nitya, what a surprise!" Veer hugged her. "Infact I already decided not to talk."

Nitya knitted her eyebrows together. "Why?"

"Tumhe sirf Rudransh bhai sai milna acha lagta hai, humse nhi."

[Translation: You only like to meet Rudransh bhai not us.]

His words made Devyani chocked on her tea.

Nitya swallowed her breath. Arjun instantly stood up after seeing Rudransh's signalling him to control the situation.

"I think he meant like you came to the office yesterday and didn't meet us," Arjun gave an awkward smile.

"Oh! That. I was running late. Otherwise aap logo sai mile Bina, how could I go?" She tried to neutralize the conversation.

"So what brings you here again?" Devyani finally spoke, masking her emotions.

Nitya offered a small, measured smile. She knew what kind of emotion did Devyani hold for her.

So while ignoring her, she walked forward with slow grace. Each step echoing in the marble-clad hall as if announcing her return.

She extended the envelope in her hand toward Dadi Sa first. It was old-school and proper.

"A personal invitation," she said softly, "for a birthday celebration at the Maheshwari Mansion. I hope the Rathore family will grace the evening with their presence."

She didn’t look at Rudransh. Not yet.

Not until she turned slightly, her eyes now catching his like two swords raised in duel.

"You would have sent it with your staff," Devyani started but then seeing, Rajmata's bold stare she swallowed her breath.

"I mean, beta thak gayi hogi na, tum aaram kar leti," she completed.

[Translation: You might have tired. You must have rested.]

"Ab aap toh Meera bhabhi ki family toh acha thori lagta agar mein kudh na aati," Nitya replied with equal sarcastic tone.

[Translation: You are Meera bhabhi's family. It won't look good if I wouldn't have come myself.]

Meanwhile, Rudransh already knew that her words had different meaning.

“And of course, Mr. Rathore,” she added, voice velvet-smooth, turning her gaze towards him.“I wanted to invite you personally.”

His gaze flicked down at the envelope, not reaching to take it yet. But she didn’t wait for him to.

Instead, she placed it on the edge of the side table beside him. Her fingers lingered just long enough to challenge him without words.

"Vaise aap logo nai kuch dino phele mera bahut khyal rakha tha. How could I forget about your hostility?" Then she bit her lip after the last word.

"Uff sorry, I mean hospitality," she turned towards Devyani this time. "Right, Devyani aunty?"

Before Devyani could say anything, she stepped back. With a polite nod to the rest of the family, before glancing toward the butler again.

“I won’t take much of your time. I just wanted to deliver it personally.”

“Come have dinner with us,” Dadi Sa urged. “Have tea, at least. It’s been long.”

But Nitya's eyes remained calm. “Some other time, dadi sa."

Then she turned.

As  Nitya had turned away with dignity intact. Her steps poised. There was a victory sweet on her lips.

But fate, with its wicked sense of humour, wasn’t quite done with her yet.

Just as she was about to move a house help moved past nervously with a tray of tea — and the corner of it clipped Nitya’s arm. In a flash, the cup tilted. Hot liquid splashed, soaking the side of her emerald dress.

A sharp gasp escaped her lips as she instinctively stepped back.

"I-I’m so sorry, ma’am!" the butler stammered, panic on her face.

Dadi Sa stood quickly, concerned. "Beta, that’s a terrible stain. Mujhe yaad tumhari kuch dresses reh gayi thi? They are still in that room? Go and change."

"Dadi sa, ghar jaa kar kar lungi," Nitya mumbled.

[Dadi sa, I will get it changed in my house.]

Before anyone could say anything, Veer interupted, "Rudransh bhai, aap kahe toh Rukh jayegi."

For a moment, Nitya hesitated and mumbled, "I am going. I don't need anyone to say."

Without a glance at Rudransh, she turned and walked up the grand staircase.

Her fingers were holding the stained fabric away from her skin. Every step was a descent into memories she wasn’t ready to relive, not here, not tonight. But the mirror never lies.

The room was the same, untouched. The scent of jasmine still lingered faintly in the air. Her old dresses were hanging neatly in the wardrobe as if time had politely waited.

She changed quickly into a blue cotton dress with a plunging back. It was elegant, understated and dangerous in its softness.

The silence was velvet.

Nitya was standing before the antique mirror, her fingers adjusting the diamond clasp of her earring.

A soft lock of her hair had fallen loose over her shoulder, and she tucked it back with careful elegance.

The cotton fabric of the dress she had changed into was soft.  under

It clung to her waist delicately. It was not provocatively, but gracefully echoing her royal presence.

The scent of jasmine lingered faintly on her skin after the quick freshen-up, and a light chill from the AC brushed across her bare shoulders.

She paused, breathing in slowly, her eyes catching the reflection of her own face.

There was a storm brewing beneath that calm gaze. It was the storm which she’d carried with her since the day she left this mansion.

But just as her fingers reached up again to smooth her hair, her body froze.

Her eyes locked with the reflection in the mirror.

He was there.

He was leaning casually against the doorframe like he owned every shadow in the room.

She still couldn't believe Rudransh Singh Rathore was standing with his arms folded. His one foot crossed over the other, his gaze pinned entirely on her.

A dangerous, knowing smirk played on his lips. It was arrogant, unbothered, but underneath it… something darker. Something caged and volatile.

He hadn’t made a sound.

"Comfortable?" His voice sliced through the silence like smoke and silk.

Nitya didn't turn around. She stood tall, chin slightly lifted, refusing to flinch, though her heart pounded against her ribs.

“I was just changing clothes,” she said coolly, smoothing the edge of her dress. “Dadi Sa insisted. Now I am leaving.”

Just as she was about to turn, Rudransh pushed off from the door slowly. Then clicked.

It was the click of the door closing behind him far too loud in the quiet room.

Click.

The sound echoed.

He didn’t move fast. No, his steps were calculated, almost lazy but his presence grew heavier with each inch he crossed. It was like gravity itself was shifting.

“And here I thought you’d be more careful… wandering around my house like that.” His voice was low. Measured.

“I’m not scared of you,” she replied sharply, turning to face him fully now. Her tone was calm, but the crackle of tension between them was unmistakable.

“No?” He stepped closer.

She didn’t move back.

"Toh yahi baat meri taraf dekh kar bolo," he said in a slow tone.

[Translation: Say this thing, looking at my face.]

His eyes dragged down her face, pausing at her lips before meeting her eyes again.

That gaze burned not with tenderness, but something more primal. Conflicted. Possessive.

"I am not scared of you!" This time Nitya looked at Rudransh hesitatedly.

Rudransh reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of thick ivory paper. It was the edge of an invitation which she placed on the side table downstairs.

He held it up. “Whose birthday party is this for, Nitya?”

His voice had dropped. And with it, the room seemed to shrink around her.

Her breath caught. Not because of the question. But because of the way he said it.

"Kiskai liye itna sab kar rahi ho?" He raised his left eyebrows.

[Translation: For whom, you are doing this?]

Each word was a challenge. A demand.

Nitya’s eyes flicked down to the card. Then back to his eyes. “You read it.”

His eyes were fixed entirely on her.

Her breath caught, her fingers pausing in her hair.

"Tumsai sunna chahta hu," he added further.

[Translation: I wanted to hear this from you!]

"I am not answerable to you," Nitya said, turning her gaze anywhere but at him.

“Miss Maheshwari,” his voice, a low, liquid caress this time. It seemed like he was tasting  her name, “Still playing with me, and in my house?”

Meanwhile, Nitya didn't turn, but her voice, though soft, held a sharp edge. She was still facing the mirror.

"You mean the house where I got imsulted so much?”

While hearing that, Rudransh moved like silent predator, and stepped closer. She didn't know when he came just beside her. 

His towering presence swallowed the space between them.

He didn't touch her, not yet, but his breath. It was warm and teasing.

It was gracing her shoulder, then down her neck. It was a slow, deliberate action  that weakened her knees.

“Does Aditya know about your little stunt?” he murmured, his voice a wickedly sharp, “of hosting a birthday party for your guard?”

The word dripped with venom. Guard.

Her jaw tightened. “Don’t bother about that. It's none of your business."

“Oh, but I do.” His breath warmed her ear now. It sent a shiver directly to her core. “Your brother… would he approve of this generous, and sentimental gesture of yours?”

Nitya tried to steady her breath, her eyes locked on her own. Her eyes were fixed in the mirror. “He trusts me.”

Rudransh chuckled, a dark, hungry sound devoid of joy. It tightened something primal in his chest.

“And yet… he sent you away once. Yaad hai paanch saal phele London ussi nai bheja tha tumhe?" 

[Translation: Remember he sent you London five years back.]

The mention of London, five years ago brought back everything from that terrible day.

Still, she didn’t move, her carefully constructed control fraying at the edges. He knew it.

He leaned closer, his lips brushing against the delicate skin of her neck. A mere whisper of a kiss.

It was barely there, yet it sent a searing heat through her. It made her reel.

Nitya closed her eyes, her body stilled. Her every nerve ending vibrating with his proximity.

“Tell me again…” Rudransh whispered, his lips now teasing her skin like a dare, “…does your brother know?”

Nitya opened her mouth, but only a soft, betraying hum escaped. It was that sound, small and vulnerable, that seemed to break his restraint.

He moved closer still not just breath, but heat, presence, everything.

The mirror blurred slightly from the intensity of their closeness, and the woman in the reflection looked utterly undone, her desire laid bare.

"I lack patience, Nitya. I literally don't have much," Rudransh said, standing behind her. His eyes were still fixed at Nitya through the mirror.

"How does it matter to me?" Nitya tried to sound confident.

Seeing her failed attempt, Rudransh gave a dangerous laughter. It was a sinister one.

His laugh instantly turned into a steel gaze.

"Neil." He leaned down. "That guard of yours, stay away from him. If you don't want the repeat of whatever happened last time with more intensity. Then do as I say!"

That warning fueled anger in Nitya and she pushed him harshly.

"Mein kuch keh nhi rahi toh aap apni hadh bhul gaye hai. Aap koi nhi hote mujhe yeh batane vale ki mujhe kya karna hai," Nitya gritted her teeth.

[Translation: If I am not saying anything then don't forget your limits. You are no one to tell me what should I do?]

The next moment, Rudransh stepped ahead closing the distance between them. Then he lifted his fingers and softly tucked her strand.

"Chalo, ab yahi sahi. Tum humesha kehti ho na, mein kon hota hu ya mein koi nhi hota. Tumhari yeh khwaish bhi puri karunga, lekin phir shikayat mat karna," Rudransh said, dangerously low tone.

[Translation: Okay! You always say, who am I to? Or I am no one to tell you anything. So now I have decided to fulfill your every wish. But then don't complain.]

"What do you mean by this?" Nitya swallowed her breath.

"It means ki jo maine baad mein karna tha voh ab bahut jaldi hoga. Moreover, tumhai aur iss puri duniya ko pata chal jayega ki who am I to you?" Rudransh said, laughing.

[Translation: it means whatever I was going to do after a few time. I will do it very soon. Moreover, you and the whole world will know who am I to you?]

"Aap muj sai door raho," Nitya instantly said while walking past him.

[Translation: Stay away from me.]

"Ab yeh khwaish toh nhi puri ho sakti tumhari. Kuch aur mang kar dekh lo, kasam sai tumhari palke jukne sai phele tumhare pass hoga," his words were not less than a promise.

[Translation: Now this wish of yours can't be fulfilled. Try asking something else, you will get before blinking your eyes.]

"If you are thinking that you can scare me off like this. Then Mr, it's Nitya Maheshwari. So stay away. My brother is here for me if I need something," Nitya said, unsurely.

As right now, it was completely new Rudransh who was standing there. This one was very dangerous. The one who would not stop at anything but at his words.

“Then tell your brother, if he doesn’t know how to control you…” he growled, his voice a thunder held barely in check, “then maybe I should.”

To be continued...

✨ Author’s Note ✨

I had so much to say. So much to pour out tonight…

But somehow, my heart feels a little quiet.

A little overwhelmed. A little full.

So instead of a long speech, I’ll just whisper.

Thank you.

Thank you to every beautiful soul who is reading, voting, commenting, and waiting with bated breath for each new twist in Nitya and Rudransh’s chaotic, electric storm. 🌪️💔🔥

There are so many silent readers here.

And honestly… I could’ve said,“Why don’t you drop a comment or leave a vote?”

But you know what?

Today, I won’t say a thing.

Because it doesn't feel right to everytime come and whining here. I love to write, and besides having my books published with paid platforms, I still want to stay where my journey started.

I don't know till when my patience will stay and I won't run out of it. I will be here.

So, still... if just once, you could share what you felt reading this chapter, I’d treasure your words like gold. Truly. 🥺💌

This chapter held fire, tension, unspoken emotions, and an intensity that burned off the page.

If your heart raced, if your breath hitched, if you felt something, tell me.

Because I felt every line while writing it.

And I hope it reached you just as deeply.

💬 Let’s talk in the comments

📌 Did you feel Rudransh’s silent jealousy?

📌 Was Nitya right to host Neil's party in this way?

📌 How did you feel when Rudransh stepped into that room… uninvited, yet expected?

📌 Who do you think is more in control — Nitya or Rudransh? Or is it just an illusion both of them are chasing?

📣 💥 Target to Unlock Next Chapter 💥

🎯 130 Votes

💬 100 Comments

Let’s hit this milestone, and I promise you the next chapter will leave you breathless. 😈🔥

Until then,

Your writer,

Purva Narang 💫

who is smiling through the screen and hugging each one of you who believes in this story 🤍

P.S.

Even a one-word comment can bring a smile. Even a silent vote means the world.

Let’s light this chapter up together. 💖💬🔥

#SeeYouInTheComments

#TeamNitya

#TeamMrRathore

#ItWasNeverJustBusiness

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