Chapter 23
Lakshya rushed forward, shoes striking through rainwater pooled across the floor.
In his mind, everything had already been fixed. The matchmaker had assured him her family was willing. Talks were to begin soon. They had arrived with sweets, a gesture toward what was coming.
A girl such as Meera Chauhan did not refuse a match such as him.
His focus fixed on her, draped in another man’s shirt, held close in another man’s arms. The world shifted under his feet.
“Meera!” Her name tore out of him.
Abhinav set her down. His left hand closed around hers and pulled her in, placing her a step behind him.
Close. Within reach.
Lakshya stopped short. His eyes cut past him, caught on her face, the mark at her neck, then came back.
The box in his hand crumpled.
“What is this?” His voice shook with anger that had nowhere to go. “What have you done?”
His hand came forward.
Abhinav caught his wrist mid-air, grip firm enough to draw a sharp breath from him.
“Lower your voice.” His tone stayed low. “Remember where you are and who you are speaking to?”
Lakshya pulled free, jaw tightening, humiliation feeding his anger.
“Who am I speaking to?” His voice rose. “I’m speaking to the woman who agreed to marry me.”
His eyes cut toward her. “What game are you playing?”
“Lakshya…”
“Don’t.” His hand lifted again, stopping short this time. “Don’t pretend this is confusion. I can see exactly what’s happening.”
People had begun to gather.
Servants paused. Guards shifted. Eyes turned.
“This was planned, wasn’t it?” He snapped. “The perfect, devoted estate manager. The simple girl who only cares about the Haveli.”
A sharp laugh escaped him.
“The owner returned and you saw your chance to rise above your place.” His voice cut deeper with each word. “Did you think no one would notice? The estate manager’s daughter climbing her way up to become Thakurain Sa? How fast you got into his bed…”
The sound cracked through the rain.
Abhinav’s fist met his jaw in a single motion.
Lakshya’s head snapped to the side. His body followed, crashing against the wet stone. The mithai box flew from his hand, ladoos scattering across the courtyard.
Rain fell, washing away the blood from his split lip.
“You will not speak to her again.” The words left no room for doubt.
Lakshya stared up, shock overtaking his anger.
Abhinav’s arm came around Meera, drawing her close against him.
She didn’t resist.
He turned toward the people watching, rain running down his shoulders.
His voice did not rise, yet it reached every corner. “What you just witnessed is what happens when someone disrespects the future Thakurain of Anand Mahal.”
The words settled over the courtyard.
Meera drew in a sharp breath.
Devendra and Gauri stood near their quarters, frozen. Lakshya’s parents hovered at the door, taken aback. Rajan stood at the back, mouth hung open in shock.
Abhinav’s hand tightened at Meera’s waist, drawing her closer still.
"Meera Chauhan is the woman I love."
Meera felt the effect of that declaration physically.
‘Love! He said love. Love! In front of everyone.’
“If anyone speaks of her with that kind of disrespect,” his voice lowered, edged with warning, “they will find their world becoming very small, very quickly.”
It wasn’t rage. It was the promise of a man who knew exactly what power he held and was prepared to use it without hesitation for the woman he loved.
Lakshya pushed himself up, swaying. “You’ve lost your mind. She’s using you. She’s…”
“Enough.”
The word cracked through the courtyard, echoing off stone.
Meera flinched.
Abhinav felt it at once. His arm tightened around her, drawing her closer, his hold firm, protective.
The guards stepped, grabbing Lakshya. He wrenched himself free, straightened his shirt straight with what remained of his pride, and walked toward the gate.
Abhinav’s attention moved to his parents before they could follow.
"Mr. and Mrs. Sampat." He was formal, not cruel. "No engagement was fixed. No agreement existed. Meera has broken nothing. Whatever expectations were raised, I take responsibility for clarifying them now."
Mrs. Sampat looked between her husband and her son.
“Your son’s conduct is his own,” Abhinav continued. “I understand this was not expected. I wish you a safe journey home.”
A dismissal wrapped in courtesy.
They left. The gates shut. Whispers rose among the staff.
Abhinav looked around once. The murmurs died.
Meera shivered. The small movement drew his attention.
His eyes found hers, softening as he looked at her face. For the first time since the confrontation began, he looked unsure. Not in his decision, but in how she would receive it.
Meera, on the other hand, couldn’t speak. What had just happened felt too large for words. He had chosen her. Before everyone. Without hesitation.
“Meera?”
Only her name, lower now, with a question in it.
It reached her.
Her breath caught. Her eyes dropped, unable to meet his, unable to take in all of this at once.
He did not push. His hand moved instead, settling at the small of her back as he guided her forward.
They walked side by side. Not Thakur and estate manager. A man and the woman he had just claimed before the world.
The courtyard parted around them. Eyes lowered, then lifted in quick, careful glances.
Rajan pressed himself against a pillar as they passed, silent for once. Somewhere behind, an older voice offered a blessing, soft enough to dissolve into the rain.
Meera kept her eyes down. Her fingers clutched his shirt at her chest tightly, as if that small grip might steady everything else.
They passed Devendra and Gauri.
Her father stood rooted, his face giving nothing, his eyes giving everything. Shock. Confusion. Fear. Her mother’s hand covered her mouth, unable to take it all in.
Abhinav’s hand remained at her back. His thumb traced once against her spine, a small circle, a reassurance without words.
She felt it. Every part of it.
At the door, he stopped.
His hand slipped away.
The absence hit instantly.
She turned to him, suddenly afraid of what she might see. Regret, perhaps, now that the moment had passed.
There was none.
His eyes met hers, clear, unwavering. “Go inside and change. You’ll get cold.”
The simplicity of it shattered what little composure she had left. Tears slipped down, warm against rain-cooled skin.
His brows drew together.
He stepped closer. His hand rose to her face, cupping it, his thumb brushing away the tears with a care that stood in sharp contrast to the man who had just put another on the ground with a single punch.
“It’s alright, Meera. Everything is alright.”
She tried to speak. There was too much to say. Too much to understand. Nothing came. Only more tears.
“Go,” he urged, softer now. “We’ll talk after.”
She nodded.
His hand remained for a breath, then fell.
She turned and went inside.
“Thakur Sa.”
Abhinav turned.
Devendra stood a few steps away.
Abhinav looked at him not as an employer, not as a man above him, but as the one who had raised Meera. Who had shaped her into everything she was. Whose family had stood beside his for generations with a loyalty that humbled him.
He brought his hands together, head bowing.
“Uncle,” he straightened. “My mother will come to you formally. But I wanted you to hear it from me first.”
Devendra blinked, the moment yet to settle into sense.
“I love your daughter. I know what I am asking. I know what your family has given to this Haveli. I understand what it means.”
There was no doubt in him. It showed in his eyes, in every word.
“I do not take it lightly.”
Devendra drew in a breath. His chest rose, held, then eased. He gave a single nod. Not agreement. Not refusal either. An acknowledgment of all that had just been placed before him.
Abhinav inclined his head in return, then turned and walked toward the family wing.
◆◆◆
Meera sat on the edge of her bed, staring at nothing.
Water dripped from her hair, from the hem of her kurta, from Abhinav’s shirt hanging loose around her shoulders. She had not changed. Had not even tried.
Her hands lay in her lap, pale from the rain, unsteady.
‘Future Thakurain of Anand Mahal.’
The words refused to settle. They hovered, unreal. She had been the estate manager’s daughter that morning.
And now… her breath hitched.
Tears came slowly. Unstoppable. She let them fall. There was nowhere else to put any of this.
‘Maa… I don’t know what just happened.’
Her fingers tightened around his shirt. It held his scent. Cedar. Rain. Him.
‘Maa, you could have warned me. You could have said something. I didn’t even see it coming. And now…’
She pressed her face into his shirt.
‘Is this real?’
The door opened.
She knew who it was without looking up.
Gauri crossed the room. The moment her arms wrapped around Meera, everything gave way. Meera cried into her mother’s chest, not holding back this time.
Gauri held her, one hand gently rubbing the back of her head. After a while, she drew back, lifting Meera’s face, wiping away her tears.
“Tell me.”
Meera shook her head. “I don’t know where it began… I was fighting him… every day… And somewhere in the middle… I started to feel more. I think… I’ve loved him longer than I knew.”
Gauri listened.
“I didn’t know what he felt. I told myself it wasn’t real… that it would pass… And now…”
Her voice broke.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel. I don’t know if I should be happy or afraid or both. I don’t even know why I’m crying.”
Gauri pulled her close again. They stayed that way.
The rain softened outside.
The door opened once more.
Devendra stood there. He took in everything at a glance. His daughter, her red eyes, the shirt around her shoulders. He stepped forward and placed his hand on her head.
“I have never stopped you from anything, Meera,” his voice low. “Because I have always trusted you.”
His hand remained there.
“His declaration is his to make. Your choice…” his tone softened further, “that will always be yours.”
Meera looked up at him. He met her eyes. No pressure. No expectation. Only trust.
She didn’t answer.
The room settled around them. Her mother beside her, her father’s hand resting on her head, the rain easing, and his shirt warm against her skin.