CHAPTER 1
Wadhwa Mansion
As the morning sun spilt through the sheer curtains, Mishti woke up from her sleep.
For the first time in weeks, she had actually slept. Maybe it was exhaustion. Maybe it was relief that the chaos of her wedding day was finally over. But as her eyes fluttered open, reality hit her.
She was in his house now as Mrs Mishti Wadhwa.
A sudden knock on the door broke her thoughts, and she hurried to open the door.
Maria stood smiling politely. “Good morning, Ma’am,” she said warmly.
“Good morning.”
“Sorry to wake you up,” Maria continued gently. “But since you’re new here, I wanted to ask what you’d like for breakfast. I’ll inform the kitchen staff.”
“Oh, that’s all right, Maria. Anything is fine,” Mishti said quickly. “But… they don’t need to cook. I can do it myself. For both me and…Karan.”
Maria froze for a moment. “I’m sorry, Ma’am,” she said softly. “But you’re not allowed to enter the kitchen or cook. Those are strict orders from Sir.”
Mishti blinked. “Orders?” she repeated, half smiling in disbelief. “But I’m the bahu of this house. Shouldn’t I have the right to cook for my husband?”
“You surely do, Ma’am,” Maria said with a trace of pity. “But please… don’t ask us to go against Sir’s instructions. Just freshen up, and I’ll have breakfast sent here.”
Maria turned to leave, but Mishti called her again. “Maria… is he back home?”
“No, Ma’am. Not yet.”
She frowned. “He didn’t tell you where he went?”
Maria shook her head, looking almost nervous. “He never does, Ma’am. And… we don’t have the authority to ask.”
Her words made something twist inside Mishti’s chest. What kind of man vanished on his wedding night without a word?
As Maria left, Mishti turned back to the grand bed and began straightening the sheets, convincing herself there must be a reason. Maybe he had an emergency.
That’s when the faint sound of footsteps made her turn sharply toward the door.
Her heartbeat stumbled as the door opened, and there he was.
Karan Wadhwa.
Tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled to his forearms. His jaw was rough with stubble, his dark hair slightly dishevelled. Karan looked like he hadn’t slept at all, yet even exhaustion couldn’t dull his good looks.
The moment he saw her, his jaw flexed hard, and he turned his head angrily toward the hallway. “Maria!” he shouted.
The sound shook through the walls, echoing down the corridor, making even Mishti flinch.
Maria came rushing in, already pale. “Y-Yes, Sir?”
“I told you to take her upstairs. That didn’t mean you drop her in my room.”
Mishti stared at him, the words barely registering. My room?
Maria’s lips parted, her voice trembling. “Sir, I thought—”
“GET OUT,” he snapped, cutting her off.
Mishti felt her stomach drop because he wasn’t talking to Maria this time. His eyes were on her.
“What?” she asked softly, not sure she’d heard him right.
“You heard me once.”
Maria looked helplessly between them.
“But—” Mishti started, her voice shaking.
Karan turned to Maria again. “Do I pay you to stand here?”
Maria jumped, quickly stepping toward Mishti. “Ma’am, please… come with me. I’ll show you your room.”
Mishti blinked in disbelief. “But this is—”
“My room,” Karan interrupted. “Karan Wadhwa’s room. And no one else has the right to it. Now get out.”
For a moment, she couldn’t even move. The humiliation burned through her, but Maria’s trembling hand gently tugged at hers, guiding her away.
The door slammed shut behind them with a deafening thud.
Mishti turned, staring at the carved wood as if she could still see him through it. Her hands shook. What just happened?
“Ma’am, please… come this way.”
“No, Maria,” Mishti whispered, still stunned. “What’s going on? Have you ever seen a husband and wife living in separate rooms? How can he throw me out like that? What did I even do?”
Maria’s eyes softened with pity. “Sir is in a bad mood,” she said. “Please, let him calm down first. Once he does, he’ll talk to you.”
Mishti didn’t believe that for a second, but she followed Maria anyway, who led her to the adjoining room. She opened the door and gestured for her to get inside.
“This will be your room, Ma’am,” Maria said softly. “I’ll bring your luggage here. Please, freshen up. If you need anything, just dial #111 on the intercom.”
With that, she slipped out, leaving Mishti alone once again and in shock. Karan had barely looked at her, and the glint in his eyes today warned her not to mistake this marriage for love. Yesterday, she thought that maybe he just needed time.
But this morning, he had made it clear.
She might have entered this mansion as a bride…but she had woken up as a stranger in her husband’s world.
***************
An hour later, Mishti wandered through the sprawling halls of Wadhwa Mansion, which could easily house six or seven families, yet echoed with emptiness.
It was hard to believe this was her home now.
Every corner of this mansion whispered luxury, yet somehow, to Mishti, it felt soulless.
She finally stumbled upon the kitchen, tucked beyond a long corridor that seemed to go on forever. It had taken her nearly fifteen minutes to find it.
Inside, Maria was instructing a group of servants. Platters of food gleamed as the breakfast was being arranged on silver trays.
Maria noticed her at the door. “Ma’am? Why did you come here? You could have called me. Do you need something?”
Mishti gave a polite smile. “Is there a puja room in this house? I need to pray. It’s been my morning ritual.”
Maria immediately tensed. “Yes, there is one, Ma’am. But, I’ll speak to Sir before you can access it.”
Mishti was surprised that she would need to ask her husband for even that.
But she didn’t argue with Maria. The poor woman had already seen a lot happening between the newly married couple since last night.
Mishti walked back to the living room, hoping to talk to Karan herself, when her gaze fell on the small coffee table near the sofa with a file on it.
In a room that looked like something out of a design magazine, where every object was perfectly placed, not a speck of dust in sight, this file felt out of place.
She quickly picked it up and opened the first page, only to read the same name again.
Kanika.
She turned to Maria, who had followed her out.
“Who is Kanika?”
Colour drained from Maria’s face.
“Ma’am, I’ll bring breakfast for you,” she murmured.
Mishti frowned as her confusion turned into frustration.
“Maria, what’s going on here? Why does everyone look so nervous all the time? I just asked a simple question. Who is Kanika?”
Before Maria could stammer out another excuse, a confident feminine voice rang out behind them.
“That’s me.”
Both women turned.
A young woman stood by the doorway, dressed in a tailored beige pantsuit. A leather folder rested under one arm as she walked closer. Her lipstick was flawless, her perfume expensive, and confidence oozed out from the way she smiled.
She looked like the kind of woman who belonged in Karan Wadhwa’s world.
“Hi,” she said brightly, extending a hand toward Mishti. “I’m Kanika Mathur.”
Mishti hesitated. There was something in the woman’s tone that made her skin prickle. She didn’t take the handshake.
Instead, she asked, “You and… Karan?”
“We’re partners,” she said, pausing just long enough to create doubt before adding smoothly, “business partners.”
Mishti blinked.
But Kanika wasn’t looking at her anymore. Her eyes had shifted to the stairs, and when Mishti followed her gaze, she saw Karan coming down.
Dressed in a charcoal three-piece suit, he adjusted his cufflinks as he descended.
His eyes met Mishti’s for a brief moment before shifting to Kanika.
Mishti waited for him to say something to her. Anything.
Instead, he walked straight to Kanika.
To her shock, he even greeted that woman with a brief hug, but it was far too familiar to be just business. The sight burned into Mishti’s mind.
When he finally pulled away, he turned to Maria, still not sparing Mishti a glance. “Get your Ma’am ready by this evening. We’re attending the wedding reception at her brother’s house.”
Maria nodded quickly.
And before Mishti could find her voice, Karan and Kanika had already turned toward the door. They left together, side by side, while Mishti stood there, staring at them. Something about the way Kanika looked at him, and the way he didn’t look at his wife, suffocated her.
*****************
KW Capital Ventures
The glass doors of the conference room swung open, and every pair of eyes turned toward the man striding in.
Karan Wadhwa didn’t need to announce his arrival; his presence did it for him. The eight men and two women seated around the oval table stood quickly, voices overlapping in polite greetings.
“Good morning, Mr Wadhwa.”
“Congratulations on your marriage, sir!”
Their smiles were bright, but entirely wasted because Karan didn’t even glance up from the iPad in his hand.
“Let’s not mix personal life within these walls,” he said sharply. “We’re here to discuss the project, not my marital status.”
The smiles faded. A few even exchanged uneasy glances.
Kanika, who had followed him inside, slid into the seat beside Karan, who looked at everyone once before turning to Kanika.
“Where’s Rajat?”
“He’s outside on a call. He’ll join us in a minute.”
“Good,” Karan murmured, eyes still on his tablet again. “Let’s wait for him then.”
The lights dimmed, and the massive screen blinked to life with the project presentation, when Rajat Mathur finally entered, laptop in hand and a familiar easy grin on his face. “Apologies for the delay, ladies and gentlemen. Let’s get started, shall we?”
The next three hours were relentless.
Karan in work mode was both mesmerising and terrifying. He dissected every proposal, challenged every number, and questioned every timeline that left no room for weakness.
When the meeting was over, and everyone started leaving one by one, Rajat shut his laptop, stretching his shoulders. “That’s a wrap.”
Kanika leaned closer to Karan. “Are we going out for dinner tonight?”
The question made Rajat freeze mid-motion. He turned toward his sister, clearly irritated.
“Put some sense in that tiny brain of yours, Kanika. He’s married now. It’s his wedding reception tonight in Goel’s mansion, if you’ve somehow forgotten. How can you ask him out for dinner?”
Kanika’s face hardened. “Was I talking to you?” she snapped.
“You may not be,” Rajat retorted. “But I’m your brother, and I have every right to stop you from messing with my best friend’s marriage. Especially his.”
Karan didn’t look up. Didn’t even flinch. His attention remained fixed on his laptop as he typed out an email.
Kanika grabbed her files, feeling humiliated and stalked out. When the door closed, Rajat exhaled. “You could’ve said something, you know,” he muttered.
“And ruin a perfectly good silence? No thanks.”
Rajat shot him a glare. “You’re impossible.”
Finally, Karan closed the laptop and leaned back. “You are just done lecturing your sister. Don't turn this into a family drama now.”
Rajat smirked faintly. “How about I start lecturing you instead?”
“About what?”
“About being human.”
Karan arched a brow. “Pass.”
Rajat shook his head, folding his arms. “How’s she?”
Karan frowned. “Who?”
Rajat stared at him. “Your wife. The one you married yesterday. Or did you forget that part already?”
Karan’s jaw clenched. “You really think I would forget that? What has been the only motive of my life so far?”
“Come on, Karan.” Rajat leaned forward, elbows on the table. “I know you. You can act cold all you want, but you’re not this brutal. Maybe in business, yes, but definitely not in something as sacred as marriage.”
Karan pushed back his chair and rose, adjusting his cufflinks.
“Then you don’t know me at all, Rajat, and don’t try either,” he said quietly. “You’ll only end up disappointed.”
Rajat held his gaze for a moment longer, searching for the young version of this man he once knew, the one who used to laugh, who used to care. But there was only ice now.
Karan reached for his suit jacket and slid it on. “See you tonight at the Goels’. I’m sure you won’t miss my wedding party.”
Rajat just exhaled, nodding his head as Karan walked out.