Chapter 23
The moment his lips crashed onto hers, Anvi felt everything—rage, betrayal, confusion… and something she didn’t want to name.
Agastya’s hands gripped her waist, pulling her closer, his desperation seeping into every inch of her skin.
This wasn’t just a kiss.
This was a war.
A war between what she should feel and what she did.
Between hate and hunger.
Between denial and destruction.
And Anvi?
She was losing.
Her fingers fisted his shirt, not pushing him away but pulling him closer, her body betraying her just like it always did around him.
And Agastya felt it.
A low growl rumbled from his chest as he deepened the kiss, his grip tightening, his control snapping.
"You hate me, Pari?" he whispered against her lips. "Then why do you let me do this?"
Her pulse slammed against her ribs.
Because she had no answer.
Because the truth?
She didn’t know how to stop.
And neither did he.
---
Agastya’s fingers brushed against her throat, his touch possessive, as if reminding her who she belonged to.
But just as his lips moved lower, trailing over her jaw, her pulse—
Her mind snapped back.
Her hands shoved against his chest, breaking free.
"No!" Her breath was uneven, her vision blurred with too many emotions.
Agastya froze.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Then—his eyes darkened.
"You can run from me, Pari." His voice was low, dangerously calm. "But you will never escape me."
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
Because he meant it.
Every word.
And she knew—no matter what she did, no matter how far she tried to go…
Agastya Singh Rathore would always bring her back.
---
The next morning, Anvi barely slept.
Her mind was a storm, her body still humming from his touch, her heart at war with itself.
But there was one thing she knew—
She needed answers.
And only one person could give them to her.
Her father.
---
When she arrived at the Oberoi estate, the guards barely blinked before letting her in.
The moment she stepped inside, her father was waiting.
"Anvi?" His voice was surprised, but not warm. "Why are you here?"
Her fingers curled into fists. "Why did you give me to him?"
Her father’s expression froze.
A muscle in his jaw ticked before he sighed, pouring himself a drink. "I was wondering when you’d come asking."
Her stomach twisted. "So you admit it."
He turned to her, his expression cold. Unapologetic.
"I did what was necessary."
Her breath caught.
"Necessary? You sold me like a business deal!"
"Because you were the only thing I had left to bargain with." His voice was sharp, ruthless. "You think I wanted this, Anvi? That I wanted to give my only daughter to a man like Agastya?"
Her chest tightened.
"Then why did you?"
His fingers gripped the glass tighter.
And then—he said the words that shattered her.
"Because it was the only way to keep you alive."
The room went silent.
Her pulse stilled.
She shook her head, not understanding. "What?"
Her father let out a slow exhale.
"You were supposed to die, Anvi."
Her breath hitched.
"Someone wanted you dead." His voice was lower now, rough. "And the only way to keep you safe was to put you under Agastya’s protection."
Her mind spun.
Her stomach dropped.
"Who?" Her voice barely came out. "Who wanted me dead?"
Her father looked at her, and for the first time—she saw fear in his eyes.
"The same people who killed your mother."
The world blurred.
Her knees went weak.
Because she had spent her entire life believing her mother’s death was an accident.
A lie.
Everything had been a lie.
And the only person who had known the truth?
Was the same man she had spent months trying to escape.
---
Anvi barely remembered leaving the house, barely remembered getting into the car.
All she knew was that she was breathless, shaking, on the verge of collapse.
And before she even realized it—she was back at the Rathore mansion.
Back in the one place **she swore she’d never accept as home.
A Truth She Couldn’t Escape
Anvi didn’t remember stepping inside the mansion.
Didn’t remember pushing past the guards, past the staff who watched her with wary glances.
All she knew was that her hands were shaking.
That her chest felt too tight.
That her mind was spinning with too many truths.
And before she even realized it—
She was standing in front of him.
Agastya.
The man she had spent months trying to escape.
The man who had known the truth all along.
The man who had ruined her life to save it.
Her breath was ragged, her fists clenched so tightly her nails dug into her palms.
He stood near the window, dressed in all black, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, his watch glinting under the dim light.
When he turned—his eyes found hers instantly.
Dark. Unreadable.
And then—he exhaled.
Like he had been waiting for this moment.
"You know." His voice was low, calm, dangerously steady.
Anvi’s chest rose and fell in sharp gasps.
"You knew." Her voice cracked, filled with something between betrayal and disbelief.
His gaze didn’t waver.
"Yes."
Her stomach dropped.
And just like that—the last piece of her trust shattered.
---
"How long?" she demanded, stepping closer, her breath uneven.
"How long have you known?"
Agastya’s jaw ticked.
He studied her, his fingers flexing at his sides, as if he was deciding how much to tell her.
And then—he gave her the truth.
"Since before we were married."
The words knocked the air from her lungs.
Her nails bit into her skin.
"You—" Her voice broke. "You knew people wanted me dead. You knew the truth about my mother. And you let me—**"
Her breath shook. "You let me believe you were the villain."
Something flashed in his gaze.
"I am the villain, Pari."
Her stomach twisted painfully.
"No." Her voice was sharp, breaking. "You let me hate you because it was easier, Agastya."
Her throat burned.
"You let me think you forced this marriage because you wanted control. Because you wanted to own me."
Her chest heaved.
"But the truth is, you didn’t have a choice either, did you?"
Silence.
A long, suffocating silence.
And then—his lips curled into a bitter smirk.
"Does it change anything?"
Her stomach dropped.
"Does it change the fact that I claimed you? That I told the world you were mine? That you wear my sindoor?"
His eyes burned into hers.
"Does it change the fact that you are my wife, Pari?"
Her breath hitched.
Because even now, even after everything—
She didn’t know the answer.
And Agastya?
He knew that too.
---
Her body trembled with too many emotions.
Anger.
Rage.
Confusion.
And worst of all—something else.
Something darker.
Something dangerous.
Because the moment Agastya took a step toward her—
She didn’t move.
Didn’t run.
Didn’t push him away.
She just stood there.
Her heart slamming against her ribs.
Her mind screaming at her to fight.
And then—he was in front of her.
Close enough that she could feel his heat.
Smell his sandalwood and spice scent.
His fingers brushed against her jaw, tilting her face up.
His breath fanned over her lips.
"Tell me to stop, Pari."
Her pulse stilled.
"Tell me you don’t want this."
She opened her mouth—
But the words never came.
Because the truth?
She didn’t know how to let him go.
And Agastya?
He knew it.
Because his lips brushed against hers.
Soft. Testing. Dangerous.
A silent warning.
A silent promise.
And when she didn’t pull away—
When she didn’t stop him—
His grip tightened.
And he kissed her like he had been waiting his entire life to ruin her.