RIVAN POV
Meanwhile, inside the palace, a completely different kind of storm was brewing softer, lighter, the kind that made hearts flutter instead of shiver.
Rajveer stood outside Jinal's room, nervously adjusting his sleeves for the hundredth time before finally knocking on the door.
He cleared his throat and said in a slightly awkward voice, "Umm... h-hi... Jinal?"
The door opened halfway, and her curious eyes peeked out.
He quickly added, "Umm... do you... remember the lunch?"
For a second, Jinal blinked, completely lost. Then realization hit her.
"Oh! Yeah, I totally forgot! Just give me five minutes, okay?" she said quickly, disappearing inside before he could even nod.
Rajveer exhaled, his lips curling into a small smile as he leaned against the wall.
He'd been waiting for this moment all day.
Not many knew he'd been working since 3 a.m., running through files, attending calls, handling last-minute arrangements for the party just so he could steal this one hour to spend with her.
A few minutes later, the door opened again.
Jinal stepped out, dressed in a light peach suit, her hair left open, a soft glow on her face that had nothing to do with makeup.
Rajveer's throat went dry. For a moment, he forgot to breathe.
She tilted her head. "What happened?"
He blinked, trying to play it cool. "N-nothing... let's go?"
Jinal raised a brow playfully. "But today's the party, right? Aren't you busy? I mean you must have a lot of work."
Rajveer gave a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Umm... it's okay. I finished everything."
Everything.
He didn't tell her that he hadn't slept, hadn't eaten properly, and had worked his team to the edge all so he could see this one smile.
Jinal smiled softly. "Oh, okay then... let's go."
And as they walked out of the palace side by side, the air between them filled with unspoken things
Nervous glances, gentle smiles.
The car stopped in front of a quiet little café tucked between trees and warm golden lights. Jinal looked around curiously the place was beautiful, peaceful, and strangely empty.
Rajveer opened the door for her, his movements gentle, almost hesitant. "Come," he said softly.
When she stepped inside, the soft hum of music and the faint scent of coffee wrapped around them. There were no customers, no staff just them.
She looked around. "It's... empty?"
Rajveer smiled faintly. "It's mine."
Her eyes widened a little. "You own this café?"
He nodded, leading her toward a table by the window. "Yeah. I opened it years ago... it's not for business, just a place where I come to think."
He gently pulled the chair out for her. "Sit."
Jinal sat down, slightly unsure but touched by his quiet manners. He took the seat opposite her, resting his elbows lightly on the table.
"What would you like?" he asked, passing her the menu.
She scanned it for a moment
"Hmm... a caramel latte and maybe that chocolate pastry?"
"Same for me," Rajveer said quickly, almost as if speaking too fast would hide his nervousness.
Jinal lifted her eyes, studying him quietly the way his fingers tapped on the table, how he avoided her gaze but smiled every time she looked at him.
There was something so different about this side of him no formality, no palace weight, just a man trying to say something but not finding the right words.
He opened his mouth, "Umm..."
Then stopped.
Jinal said. "You were saying something?"
He looked down and chuckled softly. "No, nothing... I just forgot what it was."
The silence between them wasn't awkward anymore. It was gentle. Comfortable.
They spoke about random things after that the café, the decorations, even how she once tried to bake and burnt the cake so badly the oven smoked.
Rajveer laughed, the sound low and genuine the kind of laugh that reached his eyes.
By the time they stepped out of the café, the air between them had changed it wasn't heavy, but it wasn't light either.
Rajveer's smile had faded somewhere between their unfinished words and unspoken feelings.
Jinal, on the other hand, kept fidgeting with her fingers, her heart racing for reasons she didn't understand or maybe didn't want to.
The car ride back to the palace was silent, except for the faint hum of music. Neither of them spoke; they didn't need to.
As the car stopped in front of the palace gates, Rajveer turned to her, forcing a small smile.
"It was nice... having time with you," he said, voice low but sincere.
Jinal looked at him her lips curved into a force smile. "Same here, Rajveer."
For a moment, their eyes met soft, uncertain, and filled with something that neither dared to name.
Then she quickly unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped out of the car.
Rajveer watched her leave, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel.
.
.
.
.
The entire ice cream parlour froze the moment Rivan Thakur stepped in his presence like a sudden storm after calm rain.
His eyes, sharp and blazing, locked straight on Devyani.
Without saying a word, he strode forward, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her up.
Devyani's lips parted, her heart thundering in her chest. She wanted to say no, wanted to tell him to let go... but her voice failed her again.
Virendra stood up, his tone firm yet calm, "She's with me, Rivan."
Rivan's eyes flickered with restrained fury.
"Don't forget, she's mine, Mr. Thakur."
Virendra could only sigh as Rivan turned away, leading Devyani out of the parlour without another word. The entire place went silent again the only sound left was the echo of his boots and her small steps trying to keep up.
Once outside, he opened the car door, made her sit inside, and then got in himself. The silence between them was heavy, suffocating. He started the engine, and the car shot forward.
Devyani's fingers gripped the seat tightly.
Her throat went dry, her heartbeat loud in her ears.
"Umm... where... where are you taking me?" she finally whispered, her voice small and trembling.
Rivan didn't answer. His jaw clenched, eyes fixed on the road. The car picked up speed too fast.
Her breath hitched.
Is he... going to kill me now?
The question kept spinning in her mind until his voice broke through low, edged with fury.
"Now you're going to tell me the reason," he said coldly, "before I crash this car into something."
Devyani blinked in confusion, her voice trembling, "C-Crash? You mean...?"
Rivan sighed harshly through his teeth, frustration flashing across his face.
"I mean... ah, nothing! Just tell me why the hell you're angry!"
Her lips quivered, eyes turning glassy.
"He's... very rude," she murmured under her breath, too softly for him to hear clearly.
And then, she turned her face towards the window, pretending to be lost in the view outside though her reflection in the glass showed the truth: trembling lips, wet eyes, and a heart too fragile for the storm sitting beside her.
Rivan pressed the brakes and the car screeched to a halt by the side of the empty road. The morning was calm only the faint sound of crickets and the soft hum of the city in the distance. He leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes for a second, trying to control the storm inside him.
His voice came out low, calm but rough, the kind of tone that carried weight.
"Kitten... listen to me," he said, turning his face towards her. "I'm a very bad person, and I know that. Still... I'm trying to control myself. I'm really trying. But until and unless you tell me what the reason is, how am I supposed to understand?"
He looked at her she was still staring outside the window, her fingers nervously fidgeting with her dupatta.
"And what's this nonsense you said? I'm going to marry someone?"
Her lips parted, her voice small, fragile almost like she was scared of the words she was about to say.
"You... you are going to marry that Kashvi."
Rivan blinked, his brows furrowing in confusion.
"Me? Going to marry that girl?" He gave a disbelieving chuckle. "Have you lost your mind, kitten?"
Devyani turned her head sharply, eyes wide with offense.
"Nope. I'm good you lost your mind."
He sighed, rubbing his temple in disbelief, his patience tested yet his anger softening.
"Why the hell would I marry her? Who fed this nonsense to you?"
Devyani's eyes went back to the window, her voice trembling as she whispered,
"She said..."
Her voice faded, tears threatening to spill.
"She said that after some time... she's going to be your wife."
Rivan's jaw clenched. "Accha... and?" he asked, his tone softer now, trying not to scare her.
Devyani turned to him again, her voice breaking.
"She said that after marrying you... she will... kill me."
Rivan let out a long sigh long and tired his head falling back against the seat.
"Hmmm... and?" he muttered again, but this time his voice didn't carry irritation, only helpless disbelief.
Devyani's lips trembled. "So it's true..." she whispered, her throat tightening, "you are marrying her..."
Her voice cracked, and a single tear rolled down her cheek.
Rivan looked at her those glassy eyes, the trembling shoulders, that pure innocence that didn't deserve this fear and he exhaled deeply, closing his eyes for a moment.
The silence between them turned heavy again not out of anger this time, but something unspoken... something aching and soft.
Damn those tears. I hate them. I hate what
they do to me.
Each drop carves something open in my chest a stupid, dangerous ache that has nothing to do with what I taught myself to feel. Fuck. I tell myself to be calm, to breathe, to be Thakur ruthless, unshakable but the sight of her trembling, that tiny broken breath, rips all the armor away.
I want to find whoever put those words in her head and make them beg for mercy make them understand what it means to hurt what's mine.
Not kill. Not mutilate. Something worse in a way only I know how: I will make them pay, make them regret the day they crossed her.
But not now. Not like this. Not when my hands are shaking and my voice will only scare her more.
So I force myself to be something else. I inhale. Exhale. I am not Rivan the storm, not for this minute. I am Rivan Devyani Thakur now and that title carries a different kind of responsibility.
Control your fury, Rivan. Be the wall she can rest against, not another storm she needs to run from.
I pull her into my lap before she can pull away.
Her body is small, tense, clinging like she's afraid I'll vanish.
God, she's so fragile. Her big doe eyes glitter with hurt; her lips are raw from crying; her nose is red in that adorable, infuriating way.
Fear and stubbornness wrestle on her face, and everything in me wants to smooth it all out.
My fingers find the line of her hair and I push it back, careful, because even the gentlest motion feels like it might break her or set her free.
Our faces are so close I can hear the hiccup of her breath.
An absurd, primitive urge surges to kiss her until she forgets how to be afraid until the world rewrites itself with only the two of us in it.
I clamp down on that urge, hard. I force a steadier thought into my head: protect, don't consume. Hold her, don't terrify her. Let her know, without words that could hurt more than help, that she's safe with me.
So I breathe again. I hold her tighter careful, steady and let the heat of my restraint be the promise: whatever comes, I will handle it. I will not let anyone hurt her.
Her tears shimmered against her skin like something too delicate for this cruel world and before I could think, I leaned in and kissed them away. Just a small touch, gentle enough to not scare her.
She flinched. Of course she did. She always flinches when I get too close, and every time it cuts deeper than any blade could. I kissed her cheek next, slower, softer trying to tell her everything I can't say.
She clutched my shirt with trembling fingers, holding on like I was the only thing she had. And maybe... maybe she is the only thing keeping me steady too.
Ahh my kitten, don't be afraid. I wanted to say that aloud to tell her she's safe now, that I won't ever hurt her but the words felt foreign, heavy, trapped somewhere inside me. I'm not built for softness. I was never taught how to comfort, only how to command.
Still, my hand found its way to her waist. I pulled her closer until her breasts was against mine. Then I started kissing her face her forehead, her temple, the corner of her lips each kiss slow, unsure, like I was learning how to feel for the first time.
With every touch, I could sense her nervousness. Her small breaths brushed my neck, her body stiff but not pulling away. She was confused maybe scared, maybe angry and yet she stayed.
And in that quiet moment, something inside me shifted.
My woman. The thought came uninvited, and it startled me more than her flinches ever could.
My woman... those words were never meant for someone like me.
I don't belong to tenderness. Yet here I am, wanting to keep her, protect her, belong with her.
I cupped her face between my palms, forcing her to look at me. Her eyes god, those eyes full of innocence and questions I don't know how to answer.
"Someone once said," I muttered, voice low and rough, "kisses calm anger... so I tried."
She didn't say anything just stared at me, wide-eyed and still. Maybe she was too shocked to move. Maybe she didn't believe it was real.
And maybe... neither did I.
I gently pull her into my arms again, her small frame melting against me. I could feel the tension slowly leave her body, her heartbeat finally calming against my chest.
Good... she's relaxing. Finally.
"Listen here, kitten," I murmured against her hair, my voice low but steady, "she talks nonsense. She's a stupid girl. I'm not going to marry her she's just running her mouth."
She looked up at me with those wide, doubtful eyes.
"Really?" she asked softly, like she wanted to believe me but was still scared to.
"Really," I said, my tone firm.
She pouted a little. "Okay... but I'm still angry with you. You're a very bad person."
I couldn't help the small smirk tugging at my lips. "Hmm, yes, I know," I admitted, brushing a strand of her hair away.
"And you also scolded me... for calling you husband," she whispered, her tone almost childlike.
I exhaled, rubbing the back of my neck. "Hmm... I'm sorry for that," I said quietly.
Her eyes widened again, a flicker of hope in them. "Then it means... I can call you my husband?"
I looked straight into her eyes and nodded. "Yes. You can."
I leaned a little closer, my voice dropping to a whisper.
And when her eyes went wide, her lips parting slightly in surprise I couldn't stop the rare smile that broke across my face.
That innocent expression of hers... it did something to me every single time.
She looked at me with those wide, questioning eyes and asked softly,
"But how can you be Rivan Devyani Thakur? You're a man, na? You can't use my name along with yours..."
For a second, I just stared at her. The way she said it all serious, all innocent
I chuckled, leaning a little closer.
"My innocent bacche," I said, brushing my thumb against her cheek, "I'm your man, right? So it's Rivan Devyani Thakur. Simple."
She blinked twice, still processing it, lips parting slightly in confusion. I swear, this girl could make even logic look adorable.
Her brows furrowed.
"But... that doesn't sound right..."
I couldn't help but smile wider. "Must be because your tiny little brain works harder than it thinks," I teased, watching her pout form instantly.
"I'm not tiny," she mumbled under her breath, folding her arms.
That pout. God, I'd burn the whole world just to see it again.
I laughed softly. "Fine... not tiny. Just my confused little queen."
And just like that, her pout melted, replaced by the smallest, smile the one that always, always makes my chest hurt in the sweetest way.
"But I'm still angry with you," she said suddenly, crossing her arms, her pout returning.
I sighed, trying to keep my patience. "Hmm... now for what?" I asked gently.
"Because you scold me a lot!" she said with all seriousness. "You scold me every time... everywhere."
I bit back a smile. "Okay fine," I said, trying to sound convincing, "I won't scold you from now on. Only if you do something wrong then I'll have to scold you, hmm?"
She tilted her head. "So you won't scold me unnecessarily?"
"Nope. Not at all." I leaned closer and pinched her cheek lightly. "How can I scold my small baby?"
Her eyes instantly narrowed. "Small baby? Me??"
"Yes, you," I said, half teasing, half enjoying her reaction.
She puffed her cheeks. "No! I'm not small! I'm big enough to complain about you to my papa!"
My brows furrowed. "Complain? About me?"
She nodded proudly. "Yes! And he said if I give him a solid reason, he'll give me a new husband! So you better be good with me!"
For a second, I forgot how to breathe. My eyes widened.
Was she... for real?
This woman no, this little trouble magnet was planning to replace me!
I forced a smile and said through my teeth, "Kitten... please. I won't scold you. Please let me be your husband, hmm?"
She smirked like she won a war. "Good. Then don't scold me."
I just stared at her, trying not to laugh or groan.
Rivan Thakur the name people feared now begging for mercy from his wife barely five feet tall.
I blinked, completely thrown off. "What?"
She tilted her head, watching me like I was the one who didn't make sense. "Pinki promise," she repeated softly, her eyes wide with expectation.
I stared at that tiny finger like it was some kind of weapon I didn't know how to use. What was I supposed to do with it? Shake it? Bite it? Sign a treaty with it?
She kept waiting, her gaze fixed on me, and I swear she looked so serious it almost scared me.
I gulped and awkwardly lifted my hand, doing exactly what she did. Our fingers linked, and she smiled so brightly that my whole chest suddenly felt too full.
"Yeah!" she said happily. "Now you won't scold me."
Her smile was pure no manipulation, no fear, no games just soft, genuine happiness.
I found myself smiling too, a small one I didn't even realize slipped out.
But then, the thought lingered at the back of my mind how can someone be this innocent?
Is she really this pure... or has life made her forget how to be anything else?
I pushed the thought away with a sigh. Never mind.
Right now, her laughter was enough to make me forget everything even the storm I usually carry inside.
I finally settled her down on the seat. Once she was calm, we drove back to the palace.
It was time to get ready for that damn party.
Fuck, I hate parties.
Too much noise, too many fake smiles, too many people pretending they aren't scared of me.
But yeah... I have to go. Because I can't leave her alone.
Well, maybe... I can't leave without her anymore.
Evening rolled in quietly. I sat with my laptop or should I say, that chamkili machine pretending to work but mostly glaring at the numbers on the screen like they personally offended me.
Then my eyes drifted toward the balcony, and there she was standing near the bed, completely lost, staring at a bunch of sarees like they were some kind of math equation.
She looked adorably confused. One hand holding a saree, the other scratching her cheek, muttering something to herself like, "This one? No... maybe this one?"
I exhaled, shaking my head. Cute.
Too damn cute.
I got up, walked towards my wardrobe, and silently picked out my outfit black. Always black.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her finally make her choice.
A black saree.
I smirked. Knew it.
I knew exactly how that tiny brain of hers worked. She always tried to match me, even when she pretended not to care.
She looked like a lost kitten trying to blend in with the panther and failing adorably.
A knock came at the door, breaking my thoughts.
One of the bodyguards stood there, stiff as a pole.
"Sir... Ma'am... the party is about to begin. Thakur Sahab said to get ready soon."
I rolled my eyes. "That old man has so many rules," I muttered under my breath.
But fine... whatever. I'm coming. He should be thankful that I'm even attending.
I waved the bodyguard off with a dismissive flick of my hand and turned back to my desk to finish the last bit of work.
She quietly slipped out of the room a little while later probably to get ready.
Hours passed.
Two fucking hours.
The party must've already started by now, but I'm Rivan Thakur.
The king never arrives early he arrives when he wants.
Still...
It's been two hours and she hasn't returned.
Why the hell does my chest feel tight?
Why is there this stupid rush in my pulse?
Panic?
This emotion this fucking weakness was foreign to me.
Yet now it's creeping into my bones like it belongs here.
This is not me.
But... this is me now.
I was just about to move to go look for her when the door opened.
And she walked in.
The air left my lungs.
She stood there, in a black saree my color her hair open and falling in soft curls over her shoulders.
The faintest shimmer touched her skin, glowing like moonlight.
Minimal makeup just enough to make her look unreal, ethereal, like she didn't belong to this world.
My breath hitched. I couldn't move. I couldn't even blink.
Every nerve in my body just froze.
She tilted her head slightly, confusion flickering in her big innocent eyes.
And in that moment, I swear my heartbeat just... stopped.
Fuck.
She has no idea what she's doing to me.
Trust me... the urge.