|Devyani collapsed into Rivan's arms|
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But even as he held her, dragging her half-conscious form toward the bed, a strange warmth slid through him, unwanted and unfamiliar.
RIVAN's boots thudded against the marble the sharp scent of the roses scattered on the floor pricking his senses, the shimmering red of the lehenga catching his narrowed eyes.
He halted for a second.
His cold gaze swept the room—flowers, garlands, the faint trace of sindoor on the table, and her... dressed like a bride, sitting on his bed, in his space.
A cold laugh escaped his lips.
He exhaled sharply, jaw clenching so hard that a vein pulsed in his temple, his fingers itching to pull the trigger again, but he stopped, calculating.
Before he could finish that thought, she stirred.
Her lashes fluttered open, revealing large brown eyes glistening with fear and confusion, and the moment her gaze met his furious eyes, her body jolted.
She scrambled off the bed in panic, her small feet stumbling over the heavy lehenga as she tried to move back, eyes wide, lips trembling.
But she slipped.
Before she could hit the ground, his hand shot out, gripping her wrist tightly, yanking her toward him with such force that she fell against the bed, her shawl slipping from her shoulders, revealing her slender, trembling form.
His face was inches from hers as he hissed,
"Don't try to act smart, okay? I don't give a fuck about this cringe drama or whatever game you or your people are playing with me."
His eyes were like a blazing storm, searching her face for lies.
But there were none.
All he saw was a terrified girl, blinking up at him, her chest rising rapidly as she tried to breathe, her lips quivering.
She opened her mouth, words stuck in her throat before she whispered in a voice so soft that it almost pricked his cold heart,
Her eyes fell to the floor as her small fingers fumbled with the lehenga, trying to stand properly, her fear making her limbs weak.
Then, in a voice barely above a breath, she stammered,
"S-sorry th... pati parmeshwar ji..."
Time froze.
RIVAN's jaw tightened, the words echoing in his head like a cruel joke, a mockery of the anger and darkness swirling inside him.
Devyani, still frightened and unsure, stood with her head bowed, nervously twisting the edge of her lahengga.
Her words echoed softly in the grand, silent room.
RIVAN froze.
His head tilted slightly, as if he hadn't heard her right. His bloodshot eyes narrowed, disbelief flashing across his sharp features. "What... did you just say?" he muttered, almost to himself.
Then, louder, angrier—"Have you lost your fucking mind? Do you even know what you're saying? Idiot!" He gritted his teeth, gripping the edge of the bedframe.
His head throbbed with confusion and pain, his muscles tense and ready to explode. "Ahhhh! Why the fuck am I even talking to you?!" he barked, pacing for a second before storming toward the door.
Then came the thunder.
"ADITYAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!" he roared like a beast awakened from centuries of slumber. His voice ricocheted through the haveli walls like a gunshot.
?
Dining Hall – Morning
Everyone sat around the long dining table. Plates were half-filled, cups clinked, and the soft murmur of small talk filled the air, but no one was truly at ease.
Their eyes kept flicking toward the clock.
Rajmata clutched her rosary beads tighter, her lips moving in silent prayers. Yashodha had barely touched her food. Samarveer was tapping the edge of his plate rhythmically while Bua glared at the staircase every few seconds.
Aditya, sitting stiffly in his chair, knew... it was close.
Even the servants moved like shadows, quickly and quietly—until that moment.
A roar from upstairs split the calm:
"ADIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!"
The sound was so fierce, so wild, the chandelier trembled slightly, and every soul in the haveli flinched.
The servants dropped their utensils. Payal gasped, Jinal gripped the edge of the table.
Reyansh was the first to whisper what everyone was thinking:
Aditya immediately got up, not even finishing his tea. Virendra didn't speak a word—he simply looked toward the staircase, his eyes hard, heavy, and ready for war.
Because they all knew—
The storm had arrived.
The entire haveli shook with RIVAN's rage, his voice still echoing in the halls.
Footsteps scrambled toward the upper floor. One by one, Aditya, Reyansh, Virendra, and others reached the corridor, pausing outside the door—staring at the storm inside.
RIVAN stood there like a caged animal, shirt slightly unbuttoned, veins bulging at his neck, his breathing erratic, and eyes wild with fury. Devyani stood by the bed, pale as chalk, her body trembling uncontrollably, tears streaming down her face as she clutched her shawl to her chest.
"DON'T YOU DARE!" he thundered, his voice a blade slashing through the thick tension.
"Don't any of you fucking dare enter my room without my permission. I swear—I fucking swear—I'll kill this girl!"
Devyani flinched hard.
Her eyes darted to the doorway—desperate, pleading—and the moment they landed on Virendra, her legs wobbled, her voice cracked as she ran slightly toward the door, still careful not to cross RIVAN's wrathful line.
"Sweet uncle...!" she sobbed. "Please... help me... this man—he said he'll... kill me. He is bad, uncle... he is very bad person!" Her voice was that of a terrified child, raw and trembling.
Virendra took a calming breath, his face composed but tense. Standing tall in the doorway, he stepped slightly forward, voice deep and gentle, "... shhh... nothing will happen to you, bacche. Your sweet uncle is here, hmm? You're safe now."
But that only poured fuel on the fire.
RIVAN's jaw clenched so tight, it could shatter glass. His blood boiled as his burning eyes shot between Virendra and Devyani—that girl, the trembling girl act like she belonged here.
He hated that word.
He hated his presence.
He hated her tears for him.
"STOP. THE. FUCKING. SHITTTTTT!!" RIVAN roared, his voice cracking the air like thunder.
In a violent blur, he grabbed the vase from the side table and hurled it at the floor near the door. It shattered into pieces—glass flew across the carpeted floor like sharp whispers of war.
Everyone stepped back.
Even Reyansh instinctively shielded Jinal.
Aditya stood still, heart racing but his expression unreadable.
Devyani screamed and crouched down, covering her head, sobbing harder.
Virendra didn't move. Not an inch. He kept his eyes locked on RIVAN's.
The storm has arrived, he thought.
And now, we must survive it.
Aditya's heart clenched. He could see it in RIVAN's eyes—that look—the same look he once saw during the worst days of their past. He knew... if he didn't act now, Devyani wouldn't survive the next few seconds.
Stepping forward cautiously, he raised his hand.
"Bhaiyya, wait... let me explain—"
Reyansh, alert and composed despite the chaos, reached for Jinal's hand. She was frozen in place, her lips trembling, eyes wide with horror.
Without a word, Reyansh pulled her gently and whispered, "Go to your room... you don't need to see this."
Jinal shook her head, tears pooling in her lashes. "Rey..."
"I said go," he said softly but firmly.
She obeyed—one last glance at Devyani before rushing down the hallway.
Meanwhile, inside the room, RIVAN's breathing had grown heavier, deeper, uncontrolled. His chest rose and fell like a beast on the edge.
All the memories he tried so hard to bury...
The screams, the blood, the betrayal,
It all came rushing back.
His mind roared louder than reality.
"Bhaiyya, at least listen—" Aditya pleaded gently, stepping forward like one would to soothe a wild animal.
"Aditya Thakur!" RIVAN bellowed, turning sharply, the fury in his voice enough to shake every brick in the haveli. "WHY THE FUCK AM I HERE?!"
He pointed toward Devyani, whose tear-streaked face had gone blank with fear.
"WHY is this girl calling me 'husband'? WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS HAPPENING HERE?!" he roared, his voice shattering the air.
Aditya opened his mouth to speak, but—
And then he turned—eyes locked on Devyani.
She was standing near the bed, holding her shawl so tight it looked like it would tear apart.
RIVAN took out the gun.
He aimed it straight at her.
Devyani flinched violently, gasping, and in that very moment—
She stopped crying.
Just like that.
Tears still rolling, throat still choked... but not a sound came out.
Her entire body trembled, her lips quivered, her legs nearly gave out beneath her. But she didn't make a sound.
Her innocence, her terror, her silence—it painted a haunting picture that clashed against the storming monster in front of her.
Aditya closed his eyes for a second. Then stepped between them, arms slightly raised.
"Bhaiyya... please. Put the gun down. Let me tell you what happened."
Aditya took a hesitant step forward, swallowing the tightness in his throat. His palms were raised slightly, a silent plea for calm, though nothing about this moment was calm.
Silence.
RIVAN's eyes narrowed—dark, piercing, unreadable.
"Wife?" he said it like the word was poison on his tongue.
A heartbeat passed.
Then another.
"What. The. Fuck." His voice was low. Too low.
He took a step forward. Aditya instinctively stepped back.
Devyani stepped back until her legs hit the bedframe.
"I swear to fucking God," RIVAN growled, grabbing Aditya by the collar, "you injected me? You both drugged me—my own brother and my best fucking friend. Are you both out of your damn minds?!"
Reyansh quickly stepped in, pulling RIVAN off Aditya. "Rivan—calm the fuck down—"
"DON'T." RIVAN's voice thundered as he jerked away from Reyansh's grip. "Don't you dare tell me to calm down when you bastards played with me like a pawn! What the hell is this circus?!" He gestured toward the decorations, the faint scent of flowers, the sindoor on Devyani's hairline.
His hands trembled with fury, his mind still battling the haze of drugs from the night before.
"You know what?" he scoffed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't fucking care anymore. Brother, friend, blood—it means nothing. I'll kill both of you the next time you lay a finger on me without my consent."
He turned sharply toward Devyani, who was standing frozen near the bed.
"And you," he hissed, pointing the still-warm gun in her direction, "don't think this makes you my wife. This is just one fucked-up setup, and I don't play by anyone's rules. Especially not by marriages planned behind my fucking back."
Devyani shook her head, crying softly. "M-mujhe kuch nahi pata...
"Shut. Up," he growled.
Aditya wiped his face with his hand, heart sinking deeper. "Bhaiyya... there's a reason we did this. Let me explain—please. But don't take it out on her... she's innocent."
"Innocent?" RIVAN gave a dry laugh. "Innocent girls don't end up in my bed wearing a red lehenga and sindoor on their head. This isn't innocence—this is a fucking trap!"
Virendra's voice was firm but low, trying to keep the situation from exploding further.
"The marriage is already done, Rivan. With full rituals, in front of the sacred fire. You can't deny it now."
He tried to keep his tone composed, but even that slight assertion—those few calm words—were enough to push RIVAN off the edge.
Yashodha, standing beside Virendra, instinctively squeezed his hand tightly, whispering urgently, "Don't... don't say another word. You know he can't stand it... please..."
But it was already too late.
RIVAN's jaw clenched so hard it looked like it might snap. His temples throbbed, a visible vein pulsing at the side of his neck. His eyes darkened, pure venom swirling in them as he stared at Virendra.
"STOP IT!" he bellowed, his voice thunderous. Everyone froze in place.
"Mr. Thakur—" he hissed with gritted teeth, "I am not talking to you! Did you fucking hear me?! I'm not talking to you!!"
He stepped forward like a madman, eyes wild, hair tousled, his breathing erratic.
"And I guess this entire bullshit drama is planned by you, right?" He pointed to Devyani, who had pressed herself into the corner like a frightened animal. "This girl... this whole fucking act. You sent her, didn't you? You want to see me ruined! Destroyed like a joke on your dinner table!"
"Bhaiyya—stop, please," Aditya pleaded, trying to step forward again, but Reyansh pulled him back, muttering, "No. Not now. Let him burn out first..."
RIVAN's voice trembled with pure rage and exhaustion.
"URGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" His scream echoed through the haveli, so loud it made even the guards outside flinch.
His fingers tangled in his own hair, dragging it back, fists tightening as if trying to tear the pain out of his skull. The drugs still lingered—his nerves were buzzing, his vision felt split, his heartbeat uneven—and all of it was boiling under his skin.
Then suddenly, like a beast pushed too far—
He spotted the broken shard of the vase he had thrown earlier.
He stumbled toward it.
"Rivan, no—" Yashodha gasped, but she couldn't even take a step before—
He grabbed the jagged piece and without thinking, slashed his palm.
"Bhaiyya!" Aditya shouted, running forward, but Reyansh held him back again.
The room froze. Devyani let out a horrified gasp, clasping her mouth in shock, her knees nearly buckling.
Blood began dripping onto the pristine marble floor.
But RIVAN?
He stood still... and smiled—a small, sick smile.
Relief.
Yes, for the first time since he had woken up in this hell, he felt something real. Something that made sense.
Pain.
The pain grounded him.
He looked at the blood dripping from his hand with a strange calmness, as if this pain was the only truth, the only thing that could cut through the fog and chaos inside his head.
"Ahhh..." he exhaled shakily. "Now that... feels fucking real."
The moment the jagged shard sliced through RIVAN's palm and blood began to pour, the room gasped — stunned into a motionless silence.
But Devyani...
She didn't freeze.
She shattered.
Something broke inside her.
A memory — violent and sharp — clawed its way into her mind.
The sound of a belt snapping.
The sting on her skin.
The metallic smell of blood from her own bruises.
The laughter of Hariram as she wept.
"No... no no no no..." she cried, her voice cracking as she rushed to him, stumbling on her lehenga but refusing to stop.
"Blood... blood is not right!" she screamed, clutching his hand tightly despite his resistance, her own hands trembling uncontrollably. "Blood means pain... pain hitting pain... pain that doesn't stop..."
RIVAN stood frozen.
He expected fear, yes.
But not this.
Not this trembling girl holding his bleeding hand like her life depended on it, her face drenched in tears, her voice shrill with trauma.
Her lips quivered, her palms were now smeared in his blood, but she didn't care. Her breaths became erratic, chest heaving with each gasp, as if her lungs couldn't keep up with the storm inside her.
"Please kill me if you want to," she whispered in desperation, "but don't bleed. Don't give yourself pain... I'll take it... I will... but not you."
And then, almost like a little girl confessing to God, she mumbled in between sobs:
"Bhagwan ji... I promised You I'll take care of him. I'll cook. I'll sweep. I'll even give You ?1 when I get money... but please, stop his pain... stop this blood. I'm scared of blood... please..."
She wasn't even looking at him anymore. She was somewhere else.
Back in that dark room.
That old house.
Where pain was routine and kindness was alien.
And this wasn't just concern.
This was pure trauma pouring from every inch of her.
At the door, Virendra took a small step forward instinctively — eyes moist — but Yashodha held his wrist tightly, shaking her head.
"Let her," she whispered, voice cracking. "She's the only one breaking through him... let her."
Aditya's fists clenched, every part of him aching to protect both his brother and his innocent bhabhi. But Reyansh just put a hand on his shoulder.
"Don't. Look at him."
And they did.
RIVAN.
The man feared by everyone.
The man who roared and destroyed.
Was now silent.
Because the girl clinging to his bleeding hand — trembling, crying, whispering nonsense — wasn't crying out of fear for her life.
She was crying for him.
For his pain.
No one ever held his hand like that — so tightly it hurt — begging him to stop hurting himself.
He looked down at her.
At the way her small hands trembled.
At the way his blood stained her delicate skin.
At the way she hiccuped between sobs, like a child who'd lost her favorite toy.
At the way she kept whispering to her God, to him, to anyone listening... just to make his pain stop.
And for the first time... RIVAN didn't know what to do.
He didn't pull back.
Didn't push her away.
Didn't yell.
He just stood there... blood trickling down... eyes fixed on the girl who looked like a broken angel in a red lehenga... one who was fighting his demons as if they were her own.
His throat dried up.
The pain in his palm?
Nothing.
Compared to the storm rising in his chest.
The pain of seeing her like that.
Her pain. His fault.
She looked up at him with tearful eyes, voice hoarse and broken—
"Please don't bleed... I swear I'll be a good wife. I'll even give you all my toffees... just don't bleed again... okay?"
Silence.
And then—
RIVAN exhaled. Slowly. He dropped the shard.
It hit the ground with a dull thud.
He didn't speak.
He just... looked away.
But his chest tightened with something he hadn't felt in years.
Guilt.
And something more dangerous.
Attachment.
Devyani's sobs had turned to gasps.
Her body trembled like a fragile leaf in a storm, her tiny hands still clutched his blood-soaked palm with all the strength she had left — but her voice was growing weaker with every second.
"Pain... is very bad... please..." she whispered, hiccupping as her tears soaked into the sleeve of his shirt.
Her head leaned forward, resting lightly against his chest — not because she wanted to, but because her strength was failing.
"Please... Pati ji..."
Her breath came out shaky, soft. "Don't... hurt... yourself...."
And then—
Her body gave up.
Like a puppet cut from strings.
She collapsed forward into him.
RIVAN caught her instinctively, his arms tightening around her without thinking.
Her head fell against the hollow of his neck, her soft breath brushing against his collarbone.
He breathed, eyes wide, panic rising in his throat — but not the kind of panic that comes from danger.
It was different.
It was raw.
Real.
Her body, limp in his arms. Her tears still wet on her cheeks. Her mouth parted slightly, like she was mid-plea. Her small fists still clenched the collar of his shirt even in unconsciousness, as if her soul refused to let him go.
And for the first time in a long time...
RIVAN Thakur's heart skipped a beat.
He looked at her.
Really looked.
Her long lashes fluttering faintly.
Her lips trembling.
Her brows still furrowed in the shadows of fear.
She looked like a doll.
No... a girl.
Just a fragile girl... who had tried to protect the monster that terrified her.
She didn't run.
Didn't scream for help.
She had shielded his bleeding hand and begged the universe to take her instead.
And that...
That did something to him.
His heart thudded, slowly... heavily.
His chest tightened with a strange ache — foreign, uninvited.
He didn't understand it.
He didn't like it.
But he couldn't stop it.
His fingers hesitated near her cheek. He reached out and touched her tear-stained skin, brushing away the droplets that glistened like crystals under the chandelier light.
She was breathing softly, lips whispering the echo of her last words...
"Pati ji... please..."
Something sharp twisted inside him.
His throat went dry.
He inhaled deeply — then held her tighter.
Not out of protection.
Not out of responsibility.
But because it felt right.
Because for the first time, holding someone didn't feel like a trap.
It felt like an anchor.
Like a strange, soft weight on his storm.
Outside the room, no one dared to move.
Yashodha's hands were tightly clasped over her heart.
Virendra's jaw clenched — more at his helplessness than anything else.
Reyansh didn't even blink.
And Reyansh , who stood by the door, whispered under his breath—
"Thank you, Devyani... for breaking what none of us could."
RIVAN exhaled a long, heavy breath, eyes fixed on the unconscious girl in his arms.
Everything inside him was burning — rage, confusion, and a hundred questions he didn't want to face.
But at this very moment... all of that faded.
Because in his arms was pain.
So raw. So innocent. So... helplessly pure.
Her head lolled against his chest, soft breaths tickling his skin.
She weighed so little, but her presence felt heavy — like she was carrying a thousand scars no one had ever seen.
Glimpse of new chapter:
I'm actually going to hit my head and die in this haunted haveli.
But just as I brace myself for the sharp pain of the floor—
I don't fall.
Instead, two rough, cold hands grab me. One hooks behind my back, the other around my waist, pulling me against something—no, someone.
Something hard.