Ek dil ko sukoon deta tha,

aur ek dil ko bechaini se bhar deta tha.

Aur sach toh yeh tha—

pyaar ek se tha…

par barbaadi dono se likhi thi.

“Ahh…”

The moan slipped out again — louder this time — as I bounced on his cock, slow and deep, feeling every thick inch stretch me so perfectly.

He was so big… so perfectly made for me.

Every downward motion filled me completely, the head of his cock brushing that sensitive spot inside that made my toes curl and my vision blur with pleasure.

But before the sound could escape fully, Riddhimaan crashed his lips onto mine — swallowing my moan greedily, his tongue sliding against mine in a deep, possessive kiss.

He drank every whimper, every broken cry, like he was starving for them.

I bounced again — slower this time — rolling my hips so I could feel him drag along my inner walls. The stretch was intense, almost too much, but it felt so good. So right. My body had already learned to open for him, to welcome every thick inch without resistance.

His hands gripped my waist, guiding me, helping me take him deeper with every movement. His groan vibrated into my mouth as I clenched around him, my inner muscles fluttering with every stroke.

He broke the kiss just enough to rasp against my lips, voice rough and dark with desire.

“That’s it, baby… ride me just like that. Let me feel how perfectly you take your husband.”

I whimpered — shy, overwhelmed, but so full of love — and kept moving, bouncing on his thick cock while he kissed me again, swallowing every sound I made.

My breasts bounced with each motion, nipples still sensitive and aching from earlier. The wet sounds of our bodies meeting filled the air — obscene, intimate, ours.

I felt so full.

So claimed.

So loved.

Riddhimaan’s hands slid up my back, holding me closer as he thrust up to meet me, driving himself even deeper.

“Mine,” he growled into the kiss. “All mine.”

I moaned into his mouth — lost, surrendered, completely his — as pleasure built higher and higher with every bounce, every deep thrust, every swallowed cry.

And in that moment, high above the world, wrapped in his arms and his love, I knew…I never wanted to come down.

This was my fantasy — to do it in a hot air balloon, open air, only us.

I used to dream about it and write it down in my little list of fantasies when I was younger. Silly, romantic, impossible dreams.

But now… it was happening.

My husband was making every single one of them real.

I didn’t need anything else.

Just this happiness.

Just us.

I clung to him tighter, arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, hugging him as close as I could while still bouncing slowly on his thick cock. My legs were locked around his waist, my body moving with his in that deep, sensual rhythm.

He held me securely, one strong arm around my back, the other supporting my thigh, guiding every bounce so I took him deeper, fuller, exactly the way my body craved.

I buried my face in the crook of his neck, breathing him in — that addictive scent of cedar, musk, and him.

“Maan…” I whispered against his skin, voice trembling with pleasure and overwhelming love.

He groaned softly, pressing a kiss to my temple.

“I know, meri jaan,” he murmured, voice husky and full of emotion. “I remember every fantasy you told me. Every single one. And I’m going to make them all come true. For you.”

I smiled against his neck, eyes fluttering as another slow, deep thrust made me moan quietly.

Today was supposed to be our reception — in the underworld, the dark side of his world that I was still learning to understand.

A part of me was still worried. No matter how much he tried to shield me, his responsibilities were now mine too. That’s how marriage worked for us — we carried everything together.

But right now… time was ours.

We could stay here a little longer.

The morning air of Jaipur was beautiful — cool, crisp, carrying the faint scent of jasmine and distant temple bells. The city spread out beneath us like a painting in soft gold and rose hues, the sun just beginning to rise over the pink walls and lakes.

It felt like a dream.

I held him tighter, still bouncing slowly on his cock, feeling every thick inch stretch me so perfectly. My inner walls fluttered around him with every movement, drawing soft groans from his throat.

He kissed my shoulder, then my neck, murmuring against my skin,

“Don’t worry about tonight, baby. The reception will happen when we’re ready. Right now… this is all that matters. You and me. Up here. Where no one can touch us.”

I nodded, pressing closer, my breasts brushing against his chest with every bounce.

“I just want us,” I whispered. “This happiness… this feeling… I don’t need anything else.”

Riddhimaan’s arms tightened around me, his thrusts becoming slower, deeper, more deliberate — grinding against that spot inside me that made my toes curl and my breath hitch.

“Then let me give it to you,” he whispered back, voice thick with love and desire. “Every fantasy. Every moment. Every breath.”

I clung to him even tighter, moaning softly into his neck as pleasure built again — slow, beautiful, endless.

High above Jaipur, wrapped in his arms and the morning sky, I felt completely safe.

Completely loved.

Completely his.

And I knew — no matter what waited for us on the ground, we would face it together.

Riddhimaan’s eyes darkened to molten steel as he pinned my wrists above my head, hips snapping forward in a brutal, claiming thrust.

“Cry for me, baby,” he growled against my ear, voice low and dangerous. “Cry while I fuck the innocence out of you. I want your tears on my cock when I fill you up with my claim.”

My breath hitched — a broken sob tearing from my throat as pleasure and overwhelming emotion collided inside me. Tears slipped down my temples, and Riddhimaan leaned down, licking one away with a reverent groan.

“That’s it… good girl. Let me taste how completely you surrender to me.”

I cried harder — not from pain, but from the intensity of being so thoroughly owned, so deeply loved in the most possessive way. My body trembled violently around him as he drove into me again and again, each thrust deeper, harder, claiming every inch of me.

The balloon swayed gently in the morning breeze, the city far below us forgotten. Up here, there was only us — his darkness, my surrender, and the love that bound us tighter than any chain.

After we came down from that dizzying height, my body was still trembling — legs weak, core pulsing with aftershocks, every nerve still singing from the way he had taken me so high above the world.

Riddhimaan took care of me immediately.

He gently pulled out, his thick length slipping from me with a wet sound that made my cheeks burn. Then he reached into his pocket and took out his black handkerchief — soft, clean, scented faintly with his cologne.

He put the handkerchief between my thighs, eyes soft with love, and carefully smoothed the fabric over my swollen, sensitive pussy lips.

I whimpered softly at the touch — still so hypersensitive, every brush sending sparks through me.

He leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss to my forehead, murmuring against my skin,

“Shh, moya zvzdochka… I’ve got you. Breathe for me.”

I buried my face in his chest, trying to steady my breathing. My body was still burning — hot, aching, wonderfully used — but slowly, under his gentle care, the fire began to cool into a warm, satisfied glow.

His fingers continued to massage me softly through the handkerchief — slow, soothing circles over my folds, easing the tenderness without pushing for more. I bit my lip hard to keep myself steady, a tiny moan slipping out anyway.

He chuckled lowly, the sound warm and affectionate against my hair.

“You’re still so soft here,” he whispered, voice full of wonder and love. “So sensitive for me.”

I giggled shyly, hiding my burning face deeper into his chest.

This man… what should I do with him?

One moment he was all lovely-dovey tenderness — kissing my forehead, taking care of me like I was made of glass.

The next moment he was my possessive husband — claiming me so intensely I saw stars and forgot my own name.

I sighed softly, content and a little overwhelmed, my arms wrapping tighter around him.

He pressed another kiss to the top of my head, his hand still gently soothing me through the handkerchief.

“Rest now, baby,” he murmured. “We have time. The world can wait a little longer.”

I nodded against his chest, letting his warmth and steady heartbeat lull me.

He fixed my red gown with careful hands — smoothing the fabric back into place, adjusting the straps and the way it hugged my body, making sure every fold sat perfectly. Then he gently tucked the dress around my waist, his touch lingering just a little longer than necessary, as if he couldn’t bear to stop touching me.

I looked down and noticed it immediately.

My favourite colour panty — the soft pink lace one I had worn specially for today — was torn. Completely ruined. The delicate fabric lay in shreds on the floor of the balloon basket.

I turned to him with a pout, ready to give him an earful.

“You tore my panty like a beast,” I complained, voice soft but scolding. “I feel uncomfortable without it now.”

I was fully prepared to lecture him — hands on my hips, eyes narrowed — but the next second, he reached into the inner pocket of his coat and pulled out… another panty.

Exactly the same colour. Same style. My favourite one.

My mouth fell open in shock.

How on earth did he carry my things?

I stared at him, eyes wide, completely bewildered.

On the other hand, Riddhimaan gave me a nervous smile that quickly melted into that signature smirk — the one that said he knew exactly what he was doing and wasn’t even a little sorry.

He spoke, voice low and teasing, yet full of that possessive affection that always made my heart skip.

“I told you, moya zvzdochka… I’m always prepared when it comes to you.”

He held the fresh panty out to me, eyes gleaming with mischief and love.

“Change quickly. Or do you want me to help you put it on?”

I huffed, cheeks burning, but couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at my lips.

This man… one moment he was tearing my clothes like a wild animal, the next he was carrying spare panties in his coat pocket just for me.

I snatched the new one from his hand, still glaring at him playfully.

“You’re impossible,” I muttered, but my voice was soft, full of warmth.

He chuckled, leaning down to press a quick kiss to my forehead.

“Only for you, baby. Only for you.”

I turned slightly to change, still feeling the delicious ache between my thighs and the lingering warmth of his touch everywhere.

Even in the middle of the sky, in a hot air balloon, he managed to take care of me in his own ridiculously possessive way.

And somehow… I loved every bit of it.

After a few minutes, I turned around—and before I could even react, Riddhimaan lifted me into his arms and sat down on the floor of the hot air balloon, holding me close.

The sky stretched endlessly above us.

The air felt light.

Free.

I leaned into him, resting against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. My fingers moved absentmindedly over his titan watch, tracing its edges without thinking.

“I still can’t believe…” I whispered softly, my voice almost lost in the wind,

“that we are husband and wife.”

A small breath escaped me.

“I never ever thought it would come true,” I continued, my voice turning fragile. “I was so scared… of losing you… while loving you.”

I don’t know why—but today—my heart just wanted to speak.

Everything I had held back…everything I had feared…It was all coming out.

I couldn’t hold it in anymore. The words just slipped out—soft…fragile…almost breaking.

“I used to imagine you…” I whispered, my voice trembling slightly, “dancing with you… living those moments in my head…”

I felt his hand pause—the one that was gently stroking my hairline.

“But the next moment…” I continued, my fingers tightening slightly on his shirt,

“everything would vanish… and reality would come back… along with all those memories.”

A quiet silence settled between us. The wind brushed past softly—but my chest felt heavy. Because those weren’t just words. They were pieces of me. Pieces I had kept hidden—until now.

His grip around my waist tightened—not harsh, but firm.

Reassuring.

I felt his breath near my temple as he spoke, his voice low and steady,

“But we made it…”

My eyes slowly lifted—meeting his.

“And whatever happened in the past,” he continued softly, “won’t repeat in the present… moya zvezdochka.”

My heart skipped.

“I promise you… with all my heart.”

His hand moved gently, cupping the side of my face, making me look at him fully.

“I’m here,” he whispered, his voice softer now, deeper.

“With flesh… with breath… with my warmth… my comfort… everything.”

A pause.

“No more distance… no more shadows… nothing in between.”

His forehead rested against mine.

“I’m all yours, sweetheart.”

His words—they broke something inside me. Softly. Completely.

Tears slipped down my cheeks before I could stop them.

I buried my face into his chest, holding onto him tighter, my fingers gripping his shirt as a quiet sniff left me.

His arms wrapped around me instantly—stronger. Protective.

His arms tightened instantly around my waist.

“Please… my love, don’t cry,” Riddhimaan murmured, his voice soft, almost helpless.

“I want to make you happy… no tears. You know how weak I am for these tears… please stop, my love.”

His fingers slid into my hair, stroking gently—calming me. Then slowly—he lifted my face up.

Before I could even react—he started placing soft kisses all over my face.

My cheeks. My eyes. My forehead.

I let out a small, broken giggle between my tears.

“There…” he whispered, a soft smile forming on his lips,

“there is my girl.”

His thumb brushed away the remaining tears, his eyes only on me—like I was the only thing that mattered.

And that smile—that soft, quiet smile he gave—It wasn’t for the world. It was just for me.

Our foreheads rested against each other—breaths mingling, eyes locked in a quiet understanding.

He leaned in and pecked my nose softly, a small gesture that somehow held so much warmth. I felt it—this connection between us—emotionally, physically, mentally… something deeper, stronger than anything I had ever known.

It felt like everything inside me was responding to him.

Like my heart, my body, my soul—all recognized him as mine.

I slowly closed my eyes, letting that feeling sink in.

Then I buried my face into his neck, inhaling him, my arms tightening around his shoulders as if I could anchor myself there forever.

And in that moment—there was no past. No fear. No distance. Just us.

And the quiet, overwhelming truth—that we belonged to each other.

I felt him move closer—even closer than before.

His arms tightened around me—as if he was afraid I might slip away.

Then—Riddhimaan buried his face into my forehead—breathing me in slowly.

Like he was memorizing me.

The warmth of his breath brushed against my skin—sending a soft shiver through me.

His hold didn’t loosen. If anything—it grew deeper.

More certain. And in that quiet moment—with the sky around us and nothing else between us—

I realized—He wasn’t just holding me. He was feeling me. Just like I was feeling him.

The calm, floating moment shattered by the sharp ring of his phone.

Riddhimaan sighed internally — I felt the subtle tension in his chest — but he still held me close for one extra second before reaching into his pocket. He glanced at the screen, and his expression shifted instantly. It was his secretary. Probably about the reception arrangements in the underworld.

He answered with a single word, his voice changing completely — deep, authoritative, the tone of the man who ruled shadows and empires.

“Yes?”

On the other end, his secretary spoke clearly and efficiently. “Boss, the reception is arranged. Everything is set for 5 p.m. at the location near your place in Jaipur.”

Riddhimaan’s reply was short and commanding. “Good.”

He cut the call without another word and slipped the phone back into his pocket.

I lifted my head from the crook of his neck, looking up at him curiously. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek, his lips lingering for a moment.

“Time is there,” he said gently, voice softening again just for me. “Till then, I’ll talk to the doctor about your sexual hormones on my phone. And if you feel hungry, tell me, okay moya zvezdochka? You’re my priority.”

I nodded, warmth spreading through my chest at how he always put me first, even when the dark side of his world was calling.

He kept one arm securely around my waist while he quickly dialed the doctor. His voice stayed low and professional as he explained the situation — my sudden sensitivity, the itching and swelling in my breasts, the intense hormonal changes after our first night. He listened carefully to the doctor’s advice, nodding occasionally, his free hand gently stroking my back the entire time.

When the call ended, he tucked the phone away and looked down at me with those intense hazel-blue eyes, now filled with concern and love.

“The doctor said it’s likely a surge in hormones after your first time — especially since your body is still adjusting. The tingling sensation and hyper nerves are normal for some women, particularly with your body genetics. There’s nothing to worry about. It should settle in a few days, but if it gets worse, we’ll see a specialist immediately.”

I blushed, burying my face in his chest again. “I’m okay… it just feels… a lot.”

He kissed the top of my head. “Then I’ll take care of it. Every itch. Every ache. Every desire. I’ll worship you until you feel nothing but pleasure and love.”

The balloon began its slow descent, the golden morning light of Jaipur painting everything in soft hues. The pink city walls, the lakes, the distant temples — it all looked like a painting from above.

As we touched down gently on the private rooftop, Riddhimaan helped me step out, his hand never leaving mine. He adjusted my saree one last time, making sure I looked perfect, then pulled me close for one more soft kiss.

“Ready for the reception tonight?” he asked, voice low.

I nodded, though a small part of me was still nervous about stepping into his underworld world.

But with him by my side, I felt stronger.

He smiled — that rare, beautiful smile — and whispered,

“Then let’s go home first, meri biwi. I want to make sure you’re well-rested… and well-loved before we face the night.”

I blushed again, but this time I didn’t hide it.

Because this man — my husband — was my safe place. And no matter what waited for us tonight, we would face it together.

After what felt like a few peaceful hours—the hot air balloon slowly began descending. The wind shifted gently, guiding us back toward the rooftop.

It felt steady… strong… almost like it was made just for us. And honestly—with my husband being 6’6”…I really did wonder how this balloon was carrying us so easily.

As we came closer—I looked down.

And there they were. All of them.

The rooftop was alive again.

Some of the girls—like Varshika and Paridhi—were busy making reels, laughing, posing like they owned the moment.

On the other side—the boys and elders sat in a group, deep in discussion like some serious meeting was going on.

And then—there was Nivaan. Already looking like trouble. My heart sank a little.

Oh no…I closed my eyes for a second and prayed internally—Please… not again…Because those three—Varshika. Paridhi. Nivaan. They were professional teasers.

And I knew—the moment my feet touched that rooftop—I was their next target.

My grip around Riddhimaan tightened unconsciously. He noticed. Of course he did.

His arm slid more firmly around my waist, pulling me closer against him.

“Hmm?” he hummed softly near my ear, “what happened, baby?”

I sighed quietly, still looking down at the rooftop where chaos—aka his siblings—was waiting for me.

“Your siblings…” I muttered under my breath.

A low chuckle vibrated through his chest.

“They won’t eat you,” he teased.

I immediately looked up at him, narrowing my eyes.

“They will. With teasing.”

That made him laugh softly—actually laugh. The balloon finally touched down. Before I could even think—he stepped out first and then turned, extending his hand toward me.

But instead of letting me walk—he lifted me again.

“Maan!” I whispered, embarrassed instantly, glancing at everyone.

Too late.

“OOOOOOHHHHH!”

Varshika’s voice echoed first.

“Dekho dekho, Princess landing ho rahi hai!

(Look look, the princess is landing!)”

Paridhi added dramatically.

“And our bhai is still not done with honeymoon mode!”

Nivaan shouted from the side, making the boys burst into laughter.

My face burned instantly. I buried my face into his shoulder again. But he? He didn’t care. Not even a little.

Instead, his grip tightened around me, his voice calm and slightly warning as he looked at them,

“Bas."

(Enough.)

The tone—it wasn’t loud. But it carried weight. Everyone quieted… for exactly two seconds. Then Varshika leaned toward Paridhi and whispered loudly on purpose,

“Dekha? Protective husband activated."

(See? Protective husband activated.)

More laughter. I wanted the ground to swallow me. But then—I felt his hand gently rub my back.

“Relax,” he murmured near my ear, just for me,

“I’m here.”

Paridhi suddenly clapped her hands lightly, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she raised her brows dramatically.

“Guess what, everyone…” Paridhi announced loudly, making all heads turn toward her, “this was the surprise bhai kept secret for bhabhi!”

A collective “OHHHHHHH!” echoed across the rooftop. I froze. My face—burning.

Slowly, very slowly, I peeked up from Riddhimaan’s shoulder—only to see every single person looking at us.

Varshika gasped dramatically, placing her hand on her chest.

“Hot air balloon?!” Varshika Ranawat exclaimed,

“Bhaiii… yeh level hai aapka romance ka?

(So this is your level of romance?)”

The boys groaned.

“Dekho attitude!”

(Look the attitude!)

Paridhi leaned closer again, teasing nonstop,

“Bhabhi… sach sach batao… aisa surprise pasand aaya ya nahi?

(Tell honestly… did you like this kind of surprise or not?)”

I slowly looked up—my cheeks still flushed—and nodded shyly. That was enough.

“BASSS!” Varshika squealed,

“Confirmed! Bhabhi is officially gone for bhai!”

And then—the most unexpected voice joined in.

Arshan. The one who usually stayed quiet.

Observing. Mind always somewhere else.

He looked at us—more specifically at his brother—and said calmly,

“Bhabhi must have enjoyed the surprise… Bhai kept it well.”

For a second—everyone went silent. Then—“OH HELLOOOO?!” Nivaan burst out, staring at him in shock,

“Arshan bhai bhi bol rahe hain ab?!

(Even Arshan bhai is speaking now?!)”

Varshika dramatically held her head.

“Bas, ab toh confirmed hai… yeh pyaar ka asar hai!

(That’s it, this is the effect of love!)”

Paridhi clapped again, laughing,

“Bhabhi ne toh sabko badal diya!

(Bhabhi has changed everyone!)”

My face somehow got even redder.

A faint smirk appeared on Arshan’s lips as he looked toward his brother—a rare expression—something only Riddhimaan could understand.

But before that moment could even settle—“Arshan!” A sharp yet affectionate voice cut through the air. Ritika stepped forward, her eyes narrowing slightly at him.

And the next second—she twisted his ear. Lightly. But enough.

“Zyada smart banne ki zarurat nahi hai!

(No need to act too smart!)”

she scolded, though her tone held warmth.

“Dadi—” Arshan muttered, trying to pull back slightly, his calm composure cracking just a little.

Everyone burst out laughing.

“Dekho dekho!” Nivaan pointed dramatically,

“Underworld ka silent king… dadi ke saamne seedha ho gaya!

(The silent king of the underworld… got disciplined in front of grandma!)”

Varshika giggled,

“Power hierarchy samajh aayi sabko?

(Did everyone understand the power hierarchy now?)”

Even I couldn’t help it—a soft laugh escaped my lips. And beside me—I felt Riddhimaan’s chest move slightly. He was laughing too.

Somehow—the whole day slipped by like this.

Warm. Loud. Full of love I wasn’t used to receiving so freely.

Gaurika… my mother-in-law— she didn’t just accept me. She claimed me.

She fed me with her own hands. Fed him too. Like we were both her children.

And for a moment—I just sat there quietly, letting it happen. Because maybe…this was her dream too.

Every mother dreams of this—to welcome her daughter-in-law not as someone new—but as someone hers.

Even Harshika chachi did the same. Laughing, teasing, feeding us—until suddenly—she mentioned a name.

Ira D'Souza Randhawa.

“She was always clingy to Riddhimaan…” chachi said casually,

“but he never even looked at her.”

I froze. A model. Beautiful. Confident. I know her well, a few months ago when Riddhimaan was about to kiss me in the Yamuna river. She interrupt and created a scene.

And yet—he never glanced at her? I was genuinely shocked.

My man…was never the kind to wander.

A strange possessiveness curled inside me—soft, but firm. Because he was mine. And I was his.

But before the topic could go any further—

Riddhimaan cleared his throat slightly. A subtle signal. I noticed it instantly. So did chachi. And just like that—the topic dropped. He didn’t like it. Didn’t like going there. And somehow—I understood.

But something else became clear too. This whole Ranawat family—they didn’t like the Randhawa family.

At all. There was history there. Conflict. Unspoken tension.

Then mom spoke again, her tone calm but sharp beneath,

“They are invited to the reception too… but I believe they’ll only come if they want to create a scene.”

A pause.

“Unless they come like beggars.”

I blinked. Oh. Okay. That was…unexpected.

I slowly nodded my head like an obedient child—not trusting myself to say anything.

Because wow. I really got a different kind of mother-in-law. And somehow—I didn’t mind it at all. I like it. Feisty mother in law.

Dinner passed in warmth again, laughter echoing through the halls like it belonged there.

I had kept the red gown—the one he chose for me.

And Riddhimaan… in his black tuxedo, he looked like something unreal. Right now, I was in Paridhi Ranawat’s room.

Getting ready. Paridhi—being the model she was—handled my makeup, while Varshika helped her. Both cousins working together effortlessly. They kept my makeup soft. Elegant. Not too heavy.

I watched them in the mirror for a moment—and then, without thinking much—I decided to tease them a little.

“So…” I spoke casually,

“don’t you guys have boyfriends?”

The brush in Paridhi’s hand paused. Varshika’s reflection stiffened. For a second—both of them froze.

My eyes shifted slightly—and that’s when I saw it.

A small, fleeting sadness in Paridhi’s smile. So quick—yet so real. But she hid it instantly.

Replacing it with a light smile like nothing happened. On the other side—Varshika frowned slightly—not at me—but at her own thoughts. Something was there.

Varshika slowly sat down on the bed, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her dress. I could see it now—this wasn’t teasing anymore. This was something real.

“Bhabhi…” she started softly, her cheeks still slightly flushed,

“actually… I do love someone.”

Paridhi immediately leaned closer, curiosity lighting up her face.

“But the person I love with all my heart…” Varshika continued, her voice dropping,

“keeps interrupting my life… and I hate all of it.”

She paused. Sighed softly.

“And today… he is coming to the reception too.”

I watched her carefully. She looked confused. Lost in her own emotions.

“But whenever I see his face…” she whispered, almost to herself,

“I don’t know… my heart betrays me… when I love someone else.”

I softened at her words. She really didn’t understand herself yet. I leaned slightly closer and asked gently,

“The person you love… what’s his name? And the person you hate… what’s his name?”

She at us—then at each other. Varshika raised a finger quickly,

“Even if I say the names… please don’t scream, bhabhi. And you too,” she added, pointing at Paridhi. Paridhi instantly scoffed,

“If they’re popular and famous, I will scream, girl.”

I couldn’t help it—I giggled softly.

Varshika looked at her in pure disbelief. Her cheeks turned even redder.

“Yaar…” she muttered, then took a deep breath. Both of us leaned closer on the bed—completely invested now.

She finally looked at us and said,

“The person I love… is Nishkarsh Agnivanshi…”

A pause.

“And the person I hate… is Reyansh Chauhan Sisodia.”

For a moment—I forgot to breathe. Then—me and Paridhi screamed together,

“W-WHAT!?”

Varshika’s eyes widened instantly.

“SHHHHH!!” she panicked, placing her finger on her lips, looking around as if the walls would expose her.

But it was too late. Because the names she just said—they weren’t normal.

They weren’t just men. They were known. Powerful. Unavoidable. I stared at Varshika Ranawat in complete shock.

“Varshika… do you even realize what you just said?” I whispered.

Because seriously—who doesn’t know Nishkarsh Agnivanshi?

Nishkarsh Agnivanshi — The Fighter

The greatest wrestler. A ten-time boxing champion. And on top of that—a UFC champion. A man built of strength, dominance, and raw power. The kind of man people fear and admire at the same time.

And then—there was the other name.

Reyansh Chauhan Sisodia.

Reyansh Chauhan Sisodia — The Strategist

CEO of RCS Company. A rising force in the business world. And—a cricketer.

Ambitious. Sharp. Deadly in his own way. I looked back at Varshika. Then at Paridhi.

“Oh. My. God.”

Paridhi blinked twice—then three times—before dramatically placing her hand on her forehead.

“Jesus… I need water,” Paridhi muttered under her breath, still trying to process what she just heard. I, on the other hand—was still staring at Varshika. Because wow. This wasn’t normal. This wasn’t simple. This was next level. And honestly?

I was… impressed. A slow smile crept onto my lips as I leaned a little closer to her. “I’m here to support you, girl,” I said teasingly, my eyes glinting with mischief,

“a whole love triangle… interesting.”

Varshika groaned instantly, covering her face with both hands.

“Bhabhiiii… don’t say it like that!” she whined, her voice muffled. Paridhi, now sipping water, pointed at her dramatically,

“This is not love triangle… this is disaster management project!”

I couldn’t help but laugh softly. But beneath the teasing—I could see it.

Varshika’s confusion. Her heart split in two directions.

Just as the room was still buzzing with our chaos—the door opened. Gaurika stepped inside, her presence instantly calming yet commanding.

“Everyone is ready,” she said gently, looking at all three of us, “let’s go, if your girls’ talks are finished.”

Then her gaze softened as it landed on me. “And sweetie…”

I straightened slightly, composing my face into an innocent expression.

“Yes, mom?” I replied softly. A warm smile curved on her lips.

“You’ll go with Riddhimaan,” she said,

“everyone else will go in their own cars.”

My heart did a small flip. I nodded my head cutely, “Okay.”

She walked closer to me—her eyes scanning me from head to toe.

And then—she took a small amount of kajal and gently applied a tiny dot behind my earlobe.

“For nazar,” she murmured. A quiet protection. From evil eyes. From negativity. Then she did the same to Paridhi and Varshika.

But I could feel their gaze on me. I turned slightly—and caught them staring. Not teasing this time. Just… looking.

Because the woman standing in front of them now—was different. Innocence wrapped in elegance. Softness layered with something deeper.

The moment mom left the room—silence held for exactly two seconds.

Then—Paridhi burst into giggles. I turned toward her, confused for a second—but then I saw Varshika still staring at me.

Not shocked. Not teasing. Just… smiling.

“Where did bhai even find you, bhabhi?” she said, shaking her head slightly,

“You’re dangerous.”

I raised a brow. A slow, dramatic flip of my hair—“Maybe…” I said, tilting my head with a playful smirk, “from his obsession… or fate.”

For a second—they just stared at me.

And then—all three of us broke into laughter. The kind that felt light. Carefree. Real.

“Yeh hui na baat!” Paridhi grinned.

(That’s the spirit!)

“Officially… bhabhi is our type,” Varshika added, nodding in approval. We all leaned in—and high-fived together.