Chapter 5
The Rathore mansion was built to keep its enemies out.
But today, Anvi Oberoi planned to break out.
For three days, she had played the role of the obedient bride-to-be—eating in silence, moving carefully, never showing the storm raging inside her.
Because she knew one thing—
Agastya Singh Rathore expected her to surrender.
And she would rather burn this cage down than let him win.
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The plan was simple.
Devyani Choti Maa was visiting the temple, and most of the guards had left to escort her. The remaining ones had been instructed never to stop Anvi from leaving the courtyard.
That was the mistake.
Because when she saw her chance, she took it.
A narrow corridor led to the back gardens, where a single black iron gate separated her from the streets of Udaipur.
Anvi’s heart pounded as she slipped past the servants, her soft slippers barely making a sound against the stone floors.
Almost there.
Her fingers brushed against the cool iron of the gate, and just as she pushed it open—
A hand closed around her wrist.
A familiar, unrelenting grip.
Her breath caught.
No.
She turned, her heart slamming against her ribs as she came face-to-face with him.
Agastya Singh Rathore.
Dressed in black, his tall frame blocked the light, casting her in his shadow.
But it wasn’t his presence that made her freeze.
It was his eyes.
Silent. Cold. Lethal.
And worse—amused.
As if he had been waiting for her to try.
As if he had let her believe she could escape.
“Going somewhere, Pari?” His voice was low, almost mocking.
Her pulse hammered in her throat, but she refused to cower.
She yanked her wrist away, stepping back. "You can't keep me here forever."
Agastya tilted his head, watching her with something far more dangerous than anger.
Possession.
"But I can."
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Punishment, Wrapped in Silk
The walk back to the mansion was silent.
Not a word. Not a threat.
Nothing.
That scared her more than if he had yelled.
Because silent men were the most dangerous.
The moment they stepped inside, she turned to him, her voice sharp.
"Whatever you're planning, it won't work."
He smirked. "You assume too much, Pari."
And then, he locked the doors.
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Anvi stared in shock as two guards stood outside her bedroom doors, blocking her exit.
She turned to Agastya, rage bubbling under her skin. "You're imprisoning me?"
He leaned against the wooden doors, his fingers slow as he undid the buttons of his black sherwani, rolling up the sleeves to his forearms.
"Think of it as…" His eyes darkened. "A lesson."
Anvi stepped closer, her breath shaking. "You can't control me like this."
A low chuckle left his lips, and then he reached into his pocket, pulling out her phone.
Her stomach dropped.
"Looking for this?" He held it up between his fingers, dangling it like bait.
Anvi lunged for it. Wrong move.
Before she could react, he grabbed her wrist again, pulling her close, their faces inches apart.
The air between them thickened, heavy with something neither of them wanted to name.
His voice dropped to a whisper. "If you want to talk to someone, talk to me. Because I am the only one who matters now."
Her breath hitched.
And then, he let her go.
Not because he was kind.
But because he knew he had already won.
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That night, Anvi didn't sleep.
She sat by the window, staring at the moon, wondering if anyone would ever hear her scream.
But then—a noise.
Soft footsteps outside her door. A rustle of fabric.
She turned, heart pounding.
And for the first time, she saw Agastya Singh Rathore—not as Hukum, but as a man.
Because he didn't know she was watching.
He stood by her door, fingers pressed against the wood, as if he was checking to see if she was still inside.
As if… he had been afraid she would disappear.
Anvi’s breath caught in her throat.
The ruthless, untouchable Devil of Udaipur—standing outside her door like a man haunted by something he couldn’t name.
By someone.
By her.
And in that moment, she realized something terrifying.
He didn’t just want to own her.
He was afraid of losing her.