The massive iron gates of the Prajapati Estate shook with a loud rattle as three big armored cars drove inside. Digvijay Chauhan's private security guards stepped out, looking like tough action heroes. But before the lead guard could even clear his gun from its holster, a bright magenta blur flew across the courtyard stones.
Suhani Chauhan was not a girl who waited for permission. She had an old, heavy iron frying pan hidden right inside her travel bag. With a wild, baseball-bat swing, she smacked the lead guard's arm with a loud, metallic
CLANG!
"Dobara mere saamne ye khilona dikhane ki koshish mat karna! Chhaya Nagar ki ladkiyan gaddhe mein dhakka dena achhe se jaanti hain!" Suhani yelled, waving her frying pan in the air like a crazy warrior. (Don't you dare try to show this toy in front of me again! The girls of Chhaya Nagar know very well how to push people into a ditch!)
Before the guard could process his bruised arm, Suhani grabbed him by his heavy tactical vest, used his own weight against him, and threw him chest-deep into the big marble fountain with a massive, roaring splash.
Swayam Malhotra stopped right behind her. His hand was instantly on his radio setup. His face stayed perfectly still like a frozen stone statue, but his dark eyes fixed completely on her chaotic profile. He had never seen a woman handle a high-security threat with a piece of kitchenware.
"Suhani ji, aapka ye vyavahar is paristithi ko aur jattil bana raha hai. Kintu aapka nishana atyant satik tha," Swayam said, his shuddh Hindi sounding hilariously formal as he adjusted his tight coat. (Suhani ji, this behavior of yours is making this situation more complicated. However, your aim was extremely accurate.)
"Baatein kam banao, Malhotra ji! Is bheege hue choohe ko bolo apni gaadi baahar nikale, varna agla number iska hoga!" Suhani said sharply, pointing the flat side of her frying pan directly at Digvijay Chauhan, who was stepping out of the lead car with a gold cane. (Talk less, Malhotra ji! Tell this wet rat to take his car out, otherwise he will be next!)
Digvijay Chauhan adjusted his heavy rings, looking at Suhani with absolute anger. "Suhani, apni is badtameezi ko thoda lagam do! Hum yahan Kunwar Sa se baat karne aaye hain, tum jaise naukar-chaakaron se nahi!" (Suhani, put some control on this rudeness of yours! We have come here to talk to Kunwar Sa, not to servants like you!)
Suhani didn't even use words. She lunged forward, kicked a second guard's knee so hard he dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes, and swung her frying pan right toward Digvijay's face. Digvijay shrieked like a terrified bird, dropped his gold cane, and scrambled backward into his car on all fours.
Swayam moved like a flash of dark lightning to cover her back. He smoothly bent down, snatched the dropped gold cane, snapped it cleanly across his knee with a loud *CRACK*, and tossed the pieces straight into the fountain, landing right on top of the floating guard's head. He then turned to Suhani, totally unbothered.
"Aap nishchint rahiye, Suhani ji. Aapke samman ki suraksha hamara kartavya hai," Swayam said, keeping his robotic expression. (You remain worry-free, Suhani ji. The protection of your respect is our duty.)
"Malhotra ji! Wah!" Suhani laughed loudly, resting the heavy pan over her shoulder. "Aap toh bohot bhayanak nikle! Mujhe laga tha tum sirf mera cosmetic ka dabba uthana jaante ho!" (Malhotra ji! Wow! You turned out to be very dangerous! I thought you only knew how to carry my cosmetic box!)
Swayam's lips moved with a tiny, hidden muscle twitch that could have been a smile. "Hum niyam ke anusar hi karvayi karte hain, Suhani ji. Kripya aap ab piche hatiye." (We only act according to the rules, Suhani ji. Please step back now.)
Digvijay Chauhan, completely terrified of Suhani's cooking utensils and Swayam's death-stare, slammed his car door shut. The drivers slammed the vehicles into reverse, hitting the concrete curb before speeding out of the grand gates in total panic.
The heavy wooden doors of the house opened with a dramatic echo. Shaurya walked out onto the veranda, his huge frame full of intense, quiet power. His massive arm was wrapped tightly around Virajita's waist, locking her securely against his side as he walked. Virajita was actively using both of her hands to pry his heavy, strong fingers off her hip, her face completely red from pulling against his iron grip.
The moment Virajita saw Suhani standing near the fountain with a frying pan, her breath caught.
"Suhani!" Virajita called out. With a sudden, desperate wiggle, she broke away from Shaurya's hold and sprinted down the marble steps.
Suhani turned around. Seeing her sister, her eyes widened, and she instantly rubbed her knuckles over her face, letting out a loud, highly theatrical, dramatic fake cry that echoed through the whole courtyard.
"Viru! Meri pyari behen! Tujhe bataya bhi nahi aur mujhe is dabbe jaisi gaadi mein qaid karke le aaye! Pure raste mujhe laga main kisi murgi ke pinjre mein hoon! Dekh, main kitni kamzor ho gayi hoon ek ghante mein, meri toh haddiyan dikhne lagi hain!" Suhani wailed comically, throwing her arms around Virajita while simultaneously checking her own glowing, perfectly healthy face in the fountain's reflection. (Viru! My dear sister! They didn't even tell you and brought me locked in this box-like car! The whole way I felt like I was in a chicken cage! Look, I have become so weak in just one hour, my bones are starting to show!)
Virajita stopped the hug, staring flatly at her sister's glowing, energetic face. "Suhani, aap abhi ek hrisht-pusht guard ko pan se dho kar paani mein phek kar khadi hain! Aap kahan se murgi jaisi kamzor dikh rahi hain?!" (Suhani, you are standing here after washing a fresh guard with a frying pan and throwing him into the water! From where do you look weak like a chicken?!)
Suhani instantly stopped the fake sobbing, wiping her completely dry eyes and grinning as she slapped Virajita's shoulder. "Arre, woh toh Malhotra ji ke samne thoda sarkaari drama karna padta hai, varna ye shehar ke babu hume bahut seedha samajh lenge aur hamara sara halwa kosh kha jayenge!" (Arre, I have to do a little official drama in front of Malhotra ji, otherwise these city gentlemen will think we are too innocent and eat up our treasury of halwa!)
Virajita let out a real, loud laugh, her independent walls melting away for a second. They were finally together.
An hour later, the sisters were moved to the grand bedroom of the west wing. The room was full of royal luxury, but Virajita was pacing across the thick Persian rug like a trapped tiger.
"Suhani, aapko pata hai kya hua? Us ghamandi Kunwar Sa ne mujhe char crore mein chacha se khareeda hai! Main unse itni nafrat karti hoon!" Virajita complained, throwing her hands up. "Aur jab main unse gusse mein baat karti hoon, toh woh itni shuddh Hindi bolte hain jaise koi Doordarshan ka samachar chal raha ho! Mera dimaag kharab ho jata hai naye shabd sunkar!" (Suhani, do you know what happened? That arrogant Kunwar Sa bought me for four crores from uncle! I hate him so much! And when I talk to him in anger, he speaks such pure Hindi like some Doordarshan news channel is playing! My mind gets ruined hearing new words!)
"Mujhe pata hai! Aur unka woh saathi, Malhotra ji! Woh toh bilkul bina cell waali patthar ki murti hai," Suhani laughed, stuffing a giant piece of barfi from the tray into her mouth. "Maine unse kaha ki mera cosmetic ka dabba uthao, toh itna tight suit pehenkar bole,'Hum aapke saaman ki suraksha ke liye uttar-daayi hain!' Ofo! Mujhe toh lag raha tha unke coat ke button abhi toot kar kisi guard ki aankh mein lagenge!" (I know! And his partner, Malhotra ji! He is a complete stone statue without any batteries. I told him to pick up my cosmetic box, and wearing that tight suit he said-'We are responsible for the safety of your belongings!' Ofo! I felt his coat buttons would break right now and hit some guard in the eye!)*
The side door suddenly bounced open, and Khushi Prajapati ran inside, holding her stomach from laughing so hard.
"Bhabhi! Aapki behen toh sach mein dhasu bomb hain!" Khushi cheered, jumping straight onto the velvet mattress and throwing herself right between them. "Puraane guards toh sirf badi-badi baatein karte the, par Suhani ne toh pehle hi din Chauhan ke gunde ka dimaag thanda kar diya fountain mein! Hamari haveli mein ab maza aayega, main toh roz aapke sath hi rahungi!" (Bhabhi! Your sister is truly an amazing bomb! The old guards only used to talk big, but Suhani cooled down Chauhan's goon's brain in the fountain on the very first day! Now it will be fun in our mansion, I will stay with you every day!)
Virajita's face turned completely crimson at the word Bhabhi. "Khushi ji, please mujhe bhabhi mat bulaiye! Mera aapke bhai se koi rishta nahi hai! Hum yahan se bhaag rahe hain, hum koi haveli ki show-piece nahi hain!" (Khushi ji, please don't call me bhabhi! I have no relationship with your brother! We are running away from here, we are not some mansion show-piece!)
Shaurya's POV
Three years. Forty-three thousand hours of staring at a stained, rough cotton dupatta locked inside the deepest drawer of my desk.
I sat in my dark study, staring at the screen, remembering the night of the Chhaya Nagar riots. My convoy had been ambushed, my useless security had fled, and I had been left bleeding in the mud. I was weak, exhausted, and barely conscious. Then, two local thugs from a rival gang cornered me, thinking I was an easy target to rob.
Suddenly, through the pouring rain and smoke, a petite girl in a simple cotton suit charged like a wild lioness. It was Virajita. She had absolutely no idea who I was, but she saw me lying helpless and assumed I was a weak, helpless town boy who couldn't fight his own battles.
She stood directly over my bleeding body, glaring at the thugs with fierce, glass-like amber eyes. She looked incredibly tiny compared to them, yet her voice was a solid brick wall of courage.
"Iss bechare ko akele dekhkar lutna chahte ho? Main aisa nahi hone dungi!" she had screamed, stepping directly in front of me. "Tum mere peeche raho, main inhe abhi maza chakhati hoon!" (Do you want to rob this poor guy seeing him alone? I won't let this happen! You stay behind me, I will teach them a lesson right now!)
Before I could even speak, she picked up a thick piece of wood from the mud and swung it with everything she had, whacking the first thug across his back. She fought with raw village grit, making so much noise and swinging so wildly that the two thieves actually panicked and ran away into the dark storm, thinking a crazy girl had lost her mind.
I collapsed completely, unable to stand. Virajita looked down at me, pouted heavily, and shook her head in total disapproval.
"Kya jaroorat hai akele ghoomne ki? Aur ye chori kiye hue kapde bahut mehnge lag rahe hain!" she scolded me through her panting breaths, pointing at my expensive, bespoke designer black shirt. (What is the need to wander around alone? And these stolen clothes look very expensive!)
She genuinely believed I was a high-end fashion thief because no regular villager wore thousands of dollars worth of dark Italian silk. She dragged my massive, heavy frame through the mud and into her small family barn, keeping me hidden there for two entire days until I recovered enough to stand. The whole time, she completely yapped my ears off about how stealing is a terrible sin, how crime ruins a young man's future, and how I should get an honest job. I just lay there in the straw, silently mesmerized by her voice, letting her think whatever she wanted because I couldn't bear the thought of her leaving. She still has no idea that the "poor thief" she saved is the very same billionaire keeping her in this palace today.
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Inside the private west wing mahogany study, Virajita was trying to open a locked cabinet to find her family papers, still thinking about that mysterious stranger from her past. As she rushed past Shaurya's massive desk, her silk saree pallu got caught tightly on a sharp silver handle. She pulled back hard to free herself, but she pulled too fiercely.
SNAP!
The lock of the bottom drawer broke open under the sudden force. The drawer flew open completely, spilling papers everywhere. Virajita quickly dropped to her knees to gather the documents before anyone noticed. But the moment her fingers touched the floor, her entire body went completely stiff.
Resting right on top of the corporate papers was a faded, rough cotton dupatta. It was stained with old, dark, dried blood. The edges were badly torn. It was her own dupatta. The one she had used three years ago to save that dying stranger in the barn.
"Yeh... yeh kapda yahan kaise..." Virajita whispered, her hands shaking as she reached out. (This... how is this cloth here...)
Before her fingertips could even touch the cotton, a huge shadow fell over her. A large, powerful hand shot out from the dark, slamming directly over her fingers, pinning her small hand flat against the hard wood of the desk.
Virajita gasped, her head snapping up.
Standing right over her, trapping her completely, was Shaurya. His suit jacket was off, his white shirt unbuttoned at the neck, his broad chest breathing heavily with a hidden, fierce anger. His dark eyes were burning with an absolute, heavy possessiveness that made her skin tingle. He was so close that his warm breath brushed her face, his towering body shutting out the entire room.
"Humne aapse kaha tha na, Virajita... hamari haveli ke niyam bohot sakht hain," Shaurya whispered, his voice incredibly deep, rich, and full of an intense heat that sent a shock straight down her spine. His grip on her hand wasn't hurting her, but it felt like a heavy, warm wall of iron. "Aur hamari gair-haajiri mein hamari niji vastuon ko chhoona... iski ijaazat hum kisi ko nahi dete." (Did I not tell you, Virajita... the rules of our mansion are very strict. And touching our private belongings in our absence... we do not give permission for this to anyone.)
Virajita's heart did a wild, frantic sprint. The physical closeness was overwhelming. She tried to pull her hand back, but his fingers tightened smoothly, his thumb brushing over her wrist, feeling how fast her pulse was racing. Her face turned bright red, but she refused to back down.
"Kunwar Sa... aap... aap hume chhodiye!" Virajita snapped, trying to sound angry while blushing dangerously. "Yeh kapda mera hai! Yeh aapke paas kaise aaya? Aap ek bade arabpati hain, aapko is saste, phate hue kapde se kya matlab?! Mujhe saaf-saaf seedhi bhasha mein bataiye, apna ye radio waala mode band kijiye!" (Kunwar Sa... you... leave me! This cloth is mine! How did this come to you? You are a big billionaire, what meaning do you have with this cheap, torn cloth?! Tell me clearly in direct language, turn off this radio mode of yours!)
Shaurya did not let go. Instead, he leaned down even further, his face just millimeters away from hers, his lips almost brushing against her ear as his massive chest pressed slightly against her shoulder, trapping her tightly between his frame and the desk.
"Humne kaha na, priye... ye hamari vastu hai," Shaurya murmured, his deep voice dropping into a low, intensely possessive whisper that made her entire body freeze with a sudden, wild attraction. He let out a low chuckle right against her skin, enjoying how flustered she was. "Is ek thosh dhage ke liye humne teen saal ka intezar kiya hai. Aur jab tak hum iska karz poori tarah se chukta nahi kar dete, tab tak na ye kapda hamase door jayega... aur na hi aap. Ab kripya apna ye gussa viraam kijiye." (Did I not say, darling... this is our belonging. For this one solid thread, we have waited three years. And until we repay this debt completely, neither this cloth will go away from us... nor will you. Now please give rest to this anger of yours.)
"Aap sach mein pagal hain, Kunwar Sa!" Virajita choked out, her heart hammering wildly as she used her free hand to push against his hard chest.
Suddenly, the intense physical proximity triggered a memory of the second day in that barn. The unnamed wounded stranger had been lying down, his shirt completely ruined, his half-naked, muscular chest resting directly on her lap as she carefully smeared a thick green herbal paste over his deep wounds.
Right at that exact second, three years ago, Suhani had kicked open the barn door to bring food. She had frozen at the entrance, her jaw dropping to the floor as she took in the sight of the incredibly handsome, shirtless stranger comfortably resting on her sister's lap.
"Behen, darwaza toh band kar leti!" Suhani had joked instantly, a massive, teasing smirk breaking across her face. "Aur yeh kaun hai? Dikhne mein toh bahut accha hai... par kabse chal raha hai yeh?" (Sister, at least you could have closed the door! And who is this? He looks very good... but since when has this been going on?)
Virajita had gone completely bright red back then, frantically throwing a handful of straw over the stranger's face to cover him up while yelling at her sister. She had completely forgotten what that man looked like under all the mud and blood, assuming he was long gone.
The flashback snapped shut as the current door of the study swung open with a bang. Suhani walked in, holding her frying pan. History literally repeated itself. She stopped dead in her tracks, staring at Shaurya pinning a very flustered Virajita against the massive oak desk in the exact same intimate position.
Suhani instantly turned around, covering her eyes with her hands, laughing so hard her shoulders shook.
"Ofo! romance chal raha hai yahan! Kunwar Sa, kam se kam darwaza toh band kar lete! Teen saal pehle bhi yahi chal raha tha, aaj bhi yahi chal raha hai!" (Ofo! romance is going on here! Kunwar Sa, at least you could have closed the door! Three years ago the same thing was going on, today also the same thing is going on!)
Virajita's eyes went wide. She knew Suhani was just teasing her about her habit of getting caught in awkward positions with men, but the sheer coincidence made her heart skip a beat. Shaurya slowly released Virajita's hand, stepping back with a completely calm face, though his dark eyes were swirling with an intensely playful amusement because he knew 'exactly' what Suhani meant. Virajita quickly adjusted her saree, her cheeks burning like hot coals.
"Suhani, aisa kuch nahi hai! Yeh... yeh Kunwar Sa bas mujhe confuse kar rahe hain naye words bol kar!" Virajita yelled, running to her sister in a complete panic. (Suhani, it's nothing like that! This... this Kunwar Sa is just confusing me by speaking new words!)
By midnight, operation "The Great Escape Part 2" officially began. Virajita and Suhani changed into simple black kurtas. They tiptoed out of the kitchen corridor, trying to use a clever village trick, sneaking out through the side garden storage door where the cooks kept the large sacks of onions.
"Suhani, jaldi chal, rasta saaf hai. Maine guard ko udhar dekha hai," Virajita whispered, slowly pushing the heavy wooden door open. (Suhani, come quickly, the path is clear. I saw the guard over there.)
She took one confident step out into the cool moonlight and instantly bumped straight into a solid, warm chest that felt like a brick wall.
Standing right there in the dark garden, casually holding a silver tray with two fresh glasses of lemonade, was Shaurya. His hair was slightly messy, his dark suit perfectly fine, and his eyes completely calm. Next to him stood Swayam, holding a wooden step-stool with perfect, polite manners, looking as if he had been stationed there since the morning.
Suhani groaned loudly, stamping her foot on the grass. "Ofo! Malhotra ji! Aap har jagah kisi sarkaari bhoot ki tarah kaise pahunch jaate hain?! Kya aap kapdo ke andar sensor laga kar ghumte hain?!" (Ofo! Malhotra ji! How do you reach everywhere like a government ghost?! Do you walk around with sensors inside your clothes?!)
Swayam bowed his head with stiff, unmoving respect. "Hum niyam ke anusar haveli ke har ek dwar par pehra dete hain, Suhani ji. Aapke liye ye upahar taiyar hai, kripya vishram kaksh mein lijiye." (We guard every single door of the mansion according to the rules, Suhani ji. This gift is ready for you, please have it in the resting room.)
Virajita glared up at Shaurya, her amber eyes burning with absolute, hot frustration. She was standing so close to his chest that the scent of crisp sandalwood and rain completely wrapped around her.
"Kunwar Sa! Aap jaan-boojhkar hamare raste mein aate hain na?! Main aapse nafrat karti hoon! Aapne char crore diye hain toh iska matlab ye nahi ki aap hamein qaid karke rakh sakte hain! Aap sach mein ek patthar-dil, khadoos aur ghamandi insaan hain jo sirf paise ki bhasha jaanta hai!" Virajita yelled at the top of her lungs, completely misunderstanding his whole three-year search and protectiveness. (Kunwar Sa! You purposefully come into my path, right?! I hate you! You gave four crores but that doesn't mean you can keep me imprisoned! You are truly a stone-hearted, arrogant, and rude person who only knows the language of money!)
Shaurya looked down at her red, furious, and beautiful face. Instead of getting angry or throwing a royal fit, a low, deep, and rich chuckle left his throat. He completely laughed it out, his dark eyes swirling with an intensely playful amusement because she was so clueless about the past.
He leaned down slightly, his lips almost brushing the shell of her ear as he whispered in a low, teasing tone, "Humne aapse kaha tha na, priye... koshish karke dekh lijiye. Par hamari ijaazat ke bina aap is haveli se ek qadam bhi bahar nahi rakh sakti hain. Lemonade kaisa hai?" (Did I not tell you, darling... give it a try. But without my permission, you cannot step a single foot out of this mansion. How is the lemonade?)
Virajita stomped her foot hard right on his leather shoe in pure, childish fury, her face turning hot and crimson as she snatched a glass, drank it in one go, and marched back inside. Suhani gave Swayam a sharp, funny look before following her sister, while Shaurya watched Virajita's angry walk with a slow, deeply patient smile.
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Thank you for reading, sweeties😘
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