3M,DN AND RIVAN RETURN
Did you all miss me?
Aww, I missed you so much!
Can you pamper me a little?
I think I deserve some extra love today ????
And na ab thode haters ayengge and i really don't have energy to fight with them i am already very tired and need some peace so accha se khatirdari karna unki mere absence me ok??????
HAPPY READING??
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The room fell into a silence so heavy that even breathing felt loud.
No one spoke.
No one moved.
Because the little that Virendra had told them
only the surface, only what could be said aloud
was already enough to break something inside everyone present.
Eighteen years.
Caged.
Declared dead while alive.
That much alone was unbearable.
Surekha's lips trembled as she slowly lowered herself onto the sofa, her fingers clutching the edge like she needed support to stay upright. Samarveer stood frozen beside her, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached. He was a man who had seen violence, blood, and loss but this?
This was different.
This was cruelty done quietly.
Daily.
Intentionally.
"Eighteen years..." Surekha whispered, more to herself than anyone else.
Her voice cracked. "She was a child."
No one corrected her.
Because Devyani was still a child in ways the world had stolen from her.
Samarveer finally spoke, his voice low and heavy.
That landed hard.
Because it was true.
Not knowing didn't erase responsibility.
Not asking didn't erase neglect.
They had welcomed her but they hadn't understood her.
Yashodha wiped her tears roughly, anger mixing with grief.
"A father," she said, her voice shaking with rage now, "is meant to protect."
She looked at Virendra, eyes burning not accusing him, but demanding confirmation.
No one answered.
Because there was no answer that could make sense.
Aditya's hands were shaking when he pulled the papers out.
He placed them on the table in front of Virendra with a sharp movement.
"What is this?" he demanded.
"What have you done, papa?"
Virendra looked down.
Aditya's voice rose, cracking with disbelief.
"Why did you give these papers to bhabhi?"
"Do you even realize what this is?"
He swallowed hard, then almost shouted
Yashodha's breath left her lungs.
Her eyes widened in pure shock as she snatched the papers from Aditya's hands.
Her fingers trembled while flipping through the documents.
The property details.
And at the bottom
Transferred to: Devyani Thakur.
The room spun.
Yashodha froze, unable to process it.
"Vasundhara's... house?" she whispered.
Her hands clenched the papers tightly, knuckles turning white.
Virendra finally looked up.
The single word hit harder than any explanation.
Yashodha stared at him, eyes burning, tears threatening to spill.
Her voice trembled not in anger alone, but hurt.
"That house isn't just property, Virendra," she said brokenly.
Aditya stepped forward, his face pale.
"Papa, this isn't some random asset," he said.
"You gave away something that belongs to maa"
Virendra stood up slowly.
He paused, then added quietly
The silence returned.
Heavier than before.
Because whatever reason Virendra carried
It had already changed everything.
Yashodha's hands trembled as the reality finally sank in.
Her voice rose, sharp and shaken.
"You transferred that house to Devyani?"
"You transferred Vasundhara's house, Virendra?"
She looked at him like she was seeing him for the first time.
"Do you even realize what you have done?"
Her breath grew uneven.
"That house isn't just bricks and walls," she continued, voice breaking.
"It was Vasundhara's... Rivan's mother's house."
Her eyes filled with tears.
"Have you even thought about Rivan?"
"What he will feel when he finds out?"
Her words pierced the room like knives.
"That house was the only place where he felt close to his mother," she said softly, painfully.
"The only thing of hers that still belonged to him."
Her strength gave up.
"I know I am his second mother," she whispered, more to herself than anyone else.
"I can never take Vasundhara's place."
She closed her eyes, a tear escaping.
"But I know Rivan," she said.
"And this... this will shatter him."
The room fell into a suffocating silence.
Aditya,Surekha and samarveer stood frozen, unable to speak.
Jinal swallowed hard, her chest tight.
Virendra remained standing still, heavy, burdened.
Because he knew
This decision wasn't just about property.
It was about Rivan's mother.
And that was the one wound Rivan had never allowed to heal.
Yashodha slowly stood up, her hands clenched, her eyes burning with pain and disbelief.
"What was the need to give her that house?" she demanded, her voice shaking.
"I am sure Devyani doesn't even know about this."
She looked at Virendra sharply.
Virendra swallowed.
"No... she didn't know."
Yashodha let out a broken laugh, one filled with hurt.
"Then why did you do this?" she asked, her voice rising.
"Why, Virendra?"
"You know how attached he is to that house," she continued, wiping her cheeks angrily.
"He is not just attached he is obsessed with it."
Her voice cracked.
"He begged you for it."
"Again and again."
"And you never gave it to him."
She stepped closer, pain pouring out of her.
"But you just... randomly transferred it to Devyani?"
"Have you lost your mind, Virendra?"
"This is not fair," she cried.
"Not fair at all."
Her voice broke completely.
"After everything... after all these years... he was finally finding happiness."
"He was finally smiling again."
She looked straight at Virendra, devastation in her eyes.
Yashodha's voice dropped to a whisper, fear laced with certainty.
Virendra's face tightened. He looked away, his jaw clenching.
"Yes..." he said slowly. "I am thinking the same. Maybe he read those papers."
The room went silent.
Yashodha's eyes filled instantly.
"Then I won't blame him," she said, her voice trembling.
"I won't blame him if he disappeared."
She took a shaky breath.
"And the worst part?" she continued, her voice breaking.
"We don't even know where he is."
She shook her head in disbelief.
"At least you could have informed him," she whispered.
"At least you could have talked to him."
Her voice cracked completely.
"You didn't just take a house from him, Virendra."
"You reopened every wound he ever tried to close."
The room went dead silent.
Not a single breath moved.
Aditya was the first to find his voice, though it came out rough, almost disbelieving.
"What... what do you mean, papa?"
He looked from Virendra to the others. "What reason?"
Virendra didn't answer immediately.
he said
"Devyani and RIVAN's marriage... was a contract marriage."
The words fell like a bomb.
Yashodha gasped softly.
Samar froze.
Aditya's eyes widened in pure shock.
"A... contract?" Aditya whispered. "Bhaiyya?"
Virendra finally turned back, his eyes tired but steady.
He took a deep breath, as if bracing himself.
One year.
The room felt colder.
Virendra continued, his voice calm but heavy with guilt.
"So tell me," he asked quietly, "why do you think RIVAN would agree to this marriage in the first place? Do you really think it would have been easy to convince him?"
No one answered.
Because they all knew the truth.
RIVAN THAKUR did nothing unless he wanted to.
Virendra went on.
Aditya swallowed hard. "What... kind of deal?"
Virendra's voice lowered.
Yashodha's breath hitched.
The house RIVAN was obsessed with.
The house he had begged for.
The house that carried too many memories and too much pain.
"I told him," Virendra continued, "that if he completed one full year of marriage with Devyani... the house would be his."
Samar ran a hand through his hair. "So you used the house to convince him."
Aditya felt his heart drop.
"...the house would automatically be transferred to Devyani."
Yashodha's legs gave out slightly, and she sat down.
"So even if RIVAN walked away," Virendra said, voice rough now, "she would never be abandoned. He wouldn't be able to discard her so easily."
Aditya frowned. "So you trapped him."
Virendra shook his head sharply.
"No," he said. "I protected her."
Then, after a pause, his voice cracked just a little.
"I thought one year would be enough time for him to soften. To feel something."
His eyes burned.
"But I didn't expect..."
He swallowed.
"I didn't expect it to take him just one month to fall for her."
The weight of that realization hit everyone at once.
"So when he read those papers..." Aditya murmured, pieces finally clicking into place. "He must've thought—"
"That he was manipulated," Yashodha finished, tears slipping down her cheeks.
"That his love was used against him."
Virendra closed his eyes.
"I only tried my best," he said quietly.
"I just wanted them to stay together."
But the truth was already clear.
RIVAN hadn't disappeared because of business.
Not because of enemies.
Not because of power.
He had disappeared because the one thing he never tolerated
Betrayal
Had come from his own family.
And this time, it had involved the woman he loved.
Virendra's voice dropped, heavy and deliberate.
"But the most dangerous part..."
He looked at each of them, one by one.
"...is that Devyani doesn't know anything about this deal. Not a single word."
Yashodha's lips trembled. "So if RIVAN thinks—"
"He will think," Virendra cut in calmly, "that she was aware. That she was part of it."
The air inside the study turned cold.
Not the kind that came from weather but the kind that crawled up the spine and settled in the bones.
Samar broke the silence first, his voice tight.
"Bhai sa... now what?"
He looked at Virendra helplessly. "We don't even know where RIVAN is."
Before Virendra could answer, the door burst open.
Rajveer stepped in breathing hard, coat half on, eyes sharp and alert. He didn't look like a man who had come for a casual update.
Virendra straightened immediately. "What happened, Rajveer?"
Samar stiffened. "Dead how?"
Rajveer's eyes darkened.
"Brutally."
Aditya's breath hitched.
"They were executed," Rajveer continued. "Not shot. Not stabbed once. They were made an example of."
The room felt smaller.
"The order came from RIVAN," Rajveer said flatly.
"The reason is unknown. Either they leaked information... or they were suspected of doing so. Only he knows."
Virendra closed his eyes for a brief second.
"And that's not all," Rajveer added.
Samar swallowed. "There's more?"
Rajveer nodded once.
"RIVAN also killed someone else."
Rajveer hesitated—not out of fear, but out of the weight of the name.
The name hit like a bullet.
Before anyone could speak, Reyansh who had re-entered quietly and overheard said coldly from the doorway,
"The same man who kidnapped Devyani before the wedding."
Virendra exhaled slowly, deeply.
That explained more than words ever could.
Rajveer continued, voice lower now.
"His body... is barely identifiable. Bones shattered. Face unrecognizable. It wasn't just revenge."
Aditya whispered, horrified, "Then what was it?"
Rajveer looked straight at Virendra.
That night, across the underworld, whispers spread like wildfire.
RIVAN THAKUR was active.
And not the calculated, controlled RIVAN they knew.
This one was different.
He dismantled safe houses.
Burned information networks.
Changed codes overnight.
Reassigned territories without warning.
No meetings.
No explanations.
No mercy.
Those who asked questions disappeared.
Those who hesitated bled.
His name alone was enough to shut mouths.
Samar shook his head. "No... he's becoming what he was before."
Rajveer corrected him grimly.
Because this time, RIVAN wasn't protecting power.
He was protecting someone.
And a man who had already lost everything once
Was far more dangerous than a man who still feared losing it.
Somewhere out there, RIVAN was tearing his world apart with his bare hands.
And no one knew how far he would go
Or whether he would come back the same man at all.
Reyansh's voice dropped, almost a whisper.
The room froze.
Virendra's head snapped up.
Aditya's breath hitched.
Reyansh swallowed.
"All three of you are staring at me like I just said he's dead."
Aditya stepped closer.
"What did he say?"
Reyansh clenched his jaw, then spoke slow, clear, unforgiving.
That was it.
No explanation.
No reassurance.
No I'll come back.
Silence crashed into the room like a wave.
Virendra closed his eyes, hand tightening on the armrest.
Rajveer ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply.
Aditya scoffed, bitter humor slipping out before he could stop himself.
"Waise bhi... hum dhoonde toh kaunsa milne wale hai bhai."
Reyansh looked away.
"That's the worst part," he said quietly.
Five long, suffocating days since RIVAN disappeared.
No calls.
No messages.
No trace.
The haveli felt different now too quiet, too heavy, like the walls themselves were holding their breath.
No one said it out loud, but everyone was thinking the same thing.
The house.
His mother's house.
Not because she was weak.
But because she had survived things none of them ever could.
They felt terrible.
They felt guilty.
They felt ashamed.
Ashamed that they laughed at her innocent questions.
Ashamed that they mistook her silence for simplicity.
Ashamed that they never asked why she didn't know things everyone else did.
Yet, they followed Virendra's unspoken rule.
No pity.
No sympathy.
No change in behavior that might expose what they knew.
Because Devyani didn't want to be seen as fragile glass.
So they smiled normally.
Spoke gently but not differently.
Included her but didn't hover.
Yashodha watched her from a distance every day, hands trembling whenever Devyani laughed softly at the dining table, unaware that half the room was fighting tears.
Aditya struggled the most.
Every time Devyani thanked someone for the smallest thing, his chest tightened.
She thanks people for kindness because she never expected it.
Jinal avoided her gaze not out of dislike, but fear.
Fear that if she looked too long, Devyani's quiet strength would break her.
And Devyani?
She waited.
Calmly.
No complaints.
No questions.
No tears in front of anyone.
She woke up every morning, got ready, helped Yashodha, spoke to Virendra, smiled at the elders.
At night, she sat by the window.
Waiting.
Five days.
Because somewhere deep inside, she believed
She folded his clothes every night.
Kept his side of the bed untouched.
Left the lamp on longer than usual just in case.
Only once, on the fifth night, did she whisper into the empty room:
The room didn't answer.
And far away, wherever RIVAN was
The storm was still building.
What once felt like waiting turned into restlessness.
Devyani couldn't stay still anymore.
At first, she tried to be patient telling herself that work takes time, that grown-ups disappear sometimes and return like nothing happened. But each passing day chipped away at that belief.
One afternoon, she went straight to Reyansh.
"Bhaiya..." her voice was soft, unsure, "pati ji kab aa rahe hain?"
Reyansh didn't look at her immediately.
He smiled too quickly.
Soon.
That word again.
She nodded, but her eyes searched his face, as if trying to find the truth hiding behind that smile. Reyansh turned away before she could ask anything else.
The next day, she went to Aditya.
Aditya froze.
For a moment, he couldn't breathe.
How do you tell someone the truth when the truth itself is missing?
He swallowed hard and forced a smile.
But unlike Reyansh, Aditya couldn't lie with confidence.
Devyani noticed.
She always noticed.
Seeing her eyes dim like that made Aditya feel useless helpless in a way he had never felt before. So he did the only thing he could think of.
He took her out.
For ice cream.
For long drives.
For random shopping she didn't need.
He talked more than usual.
Cracked stupid jokes.
Pointed out small things on the road like they were important.
"Dekho bhabhi, yeh wali ice cream achhi hoti hai."
"Yeh shop nayi khuli hai."
"Bhai ko yeh color pasand hai, na?"
She smiled.
She even laughed.
But the worry never left her eyes.
Even while holding an ice cream cone, her gaze drifted to every passing car every sound making her heart jump.
At night, the restlessness returned stronger.
She paced the room.
Sat on the bed.
Stood by the window.
"Late ho gaye hain," she murmured to herself, checking the clock again and again.
"Ab toh aa jana chahiye tha..."
No one could distract her from that ache.
She wasn't panicking.
She wasn't crying.
But the silence where RIVAN should have been was too loud.
And everyone could see it.
Devyani wasn't just waiting anymore.
She was unraveling slowly, silently, one unanswered day at a time.
Slowly... very slowly...
Things that were once abnormal for Devyani began to feel normal.
Not because they suddenly made sense
but because everyone around her started teaching, quietly, patiently, without making her feel small.
They stopped teasing her for asking "strange" questions.
They stopped laughing when she misunderstood simple things.
Instead
They explained.
They repeated.
They waited.
How to hold a spoon properly.
Why certain doors are locked.
Why people knock.
Why silence is not always anger.
Devyani noticed the change but didn't understand why it happened.
She only felt that people were suddenly... softer.
Kinder.
And that confused her more than cruelty ever had.
One evening, Devyani was sitting alone in the garden.
The sun was sinking slowly, painting the sky orange and pink. She was plucking leaves absentmindedly, arranging them in a line like they had rules only she understood.
That's when footsteps approached.
She looked up.
All three Thakur siblings stood there, awkward, unsure like children who had rehearsed something and forgotten their lines.
"Bhabhi..." Payal said softly.
They exchanged glances.
Then, all at once
Devyani blinked.
"...Sorry?" she repeated. "But why?"
They froze.
Rudraksh scratched the back of his head.
Aradhya looked at the grass.
Payal fidgeted with her bangles.
"For... nothing," Payal finally said.
Devyani tilted her head, genuinely puzzled.
"If it's nothing, why are you saying sorry so many times?"
No answer came.
Instead, they sat down beside her one by one.
Too close.
Almost crowding her.
Rudraksh suddenly started talking about how he once fell into a pond while trying to impress his friends.
Aradhya laughed and added a story about breaking a vase and blaming the cat.
Payal shared how she once cried for hours because her favorite ribbon went missing only to find it tied in her own hair.
They laughed.
They talked.
They filled the air with stupid stories, unnecessary details, awkward pauses and between every story, there was another soft
Devyani listened quietly.
She laughed when they laughed.
Smiled when they smiled.
But inside, she was confused.
She finally said, gently, "You don't have to say sorry. You didn't hurt me."
That sentence broke something in them.
Payal's lips trembled.
Aradhya swallowed hard.
Rudraksh looked away, jaw tight.
Because that was the point.
They had hurt her
by not knowing,
by not asking,
by not seeing.
But Devyani didn't know that.
She just sat there, among them, listening to nonsense stories, feeling warmth without understanding its source.
And maybe...
that was how healing began.
Not with explanations.
Not with pity.
But with people sitting beside her, saying "sorry" for things she never knew were wrong
and loving her quietly, the way she deserved all along.
Fifteen mornings without seeing pati ji's face.
Fifteen nights without his warmth beside me.
Is work really that long?
Everyone keeps smiling, keeps saying soon, keeps changing the topic.
No one tells me why.
And that scares me more than silence ever should.
Did I do something wrong?
My mind keeps going back, replaying every word, every laugh, every mistake.
For asking too much.
For touching things I shouldn't.
For being... me.
These thoughts eat me every night.
Days are easier.
During the day, I sit with everyone.
They talk to me, teach me things, take me outside.
I smile. I nod. I try.
But nights...
Nights are cruel.
The room feels too big.
The bed feels too empty.
And my heart feels too loud.
Does pati ji not like my presence anymore?
Did he get tired of me?
Of my innocence.
Of my confusion.
Of my questions.
Did he... start hating me?
Tears come easily now.
And that's okay.
I am not afraid of tears anymore.
I have cried my whole life.
But this fear... this one is new.
I am afraid of why pati Parmeshwar ji is not coming back.
Because if he doesn't come back...
I don't know if I will survive another cage.
Days keep passing.
One by one.
Slowly. Painfully.
But still... no one answers me.
Where is my pati ji?
Twenty-four days without his voice.
Without his presence.
Without even anger.
The restlessness inside me is no longer quiet.
It scratches.
It screams.
Did he start hating me?
Yes... maybe.
Because of my stupidity?
Because I don't understand things quickly?
Because everything is new to me?
How do I explain to him that I am trying?
That I am learning slowly, clumsily but sincerely?
I start pacing the room, back and forth, back and forth, like a trapped animal.
My chest feels tight. My breath uneven.
Finally, I go to papa.
Again.
Maybe this time he will have an answer.
But his words only make it worse.
He looks tired. Helpless.
"He will come back soon Devyani," he says.
No answer.
Just emptiness.
Something breaks inside me then.
Maybe... maybe I should start learning more.
Maybe that's the reason he left me.
Because I am not enough yet.
Tears start streaming down my face, uncontrollable.
I hug myself tightly, as if holding myself together.
"That's why I warned you, Devyani," a voice inside my head whispers cruelly.
"Don't ask him too much."
But I didn't listen.
My curiosity chased him away.
He ran away from me.
It's always me.
I am always the problem.
Bapu was right.
Maybe I was born wrong.
Maybe I exist wrong.
Love feels temporary to someone like me.
Punishment feels permanent.
And now...
I am scared that I am being punished again.
After that day... I stop asking people.
Not because my questions end
but because I am tired of not getting answers.
So I start doing something new.
I turn on the television.
At first, I just sit there.
Watching colors move.
People talk.
Laugh.
Cry.
Slowly... I begin to listen.
TV shows.
Serials.
Talk shows.
Movies.
Even advertisements.
Some of them confuse me.
Some of them shock me.
Some of them make me laugh without understanding why.
But some... help me.
A lot.
I don't know if the information is right or wrong.
No one is there to correct me.
But at least... it is information.
At least I am learning something.
I learn how people talk to each other.
How wives speak to their husbands.
How they get angry... and then forgive.
How they cry openly and no one hits them for it.
I learn new words.
New expressions.
New reactions.
Sometimes I pause and repeat scenes in my mind.
I don't know if this world on the screen is real.
But it feels kinder than the world I grew up in.
Every day, I sit a little longer.
I watch.
I observe.
I remember.
Maybe this is how people learn.
Maybe if I learn enough...
he will come back.
Maybe if I become less wrong...
I will be loved again.
One day...
while watching TV...
I saw that advertisement again.
The one with smiling women.
White clothes.
Red liquid.
And something soft in their hands.
They were using something.
It looked small.
Clean.
Neat.
Like the things used for babies.
I frowned at the screen.
"...What is this?"
They were saying words like comfort, protection, freedom.
Freedom?
I didn't understand.
So I went to Jinal.
She was sitting with her phone when I stood in front of her.
"Jinal..."
I hesitated.
"On TV... women were using something during periods."
She looked up.
Then smiled softly.
"Oh. Pads."
Pads.
She saw my blank face.
So she explained.
Slowly.
Calmly.
Like someone explaining to a very small child.
She didn't laugh.
She didn't rush.
She didn't judge.
She told me how it works.
Why it is used.
How it helps.
How women don't need to use clothes anymore.
I listened with wide eyes.
"Isn't that... magic?"
I sat there stunned.
All these years...
and something like this existed?
I felt happy.
Very happy.
Like someone just gave me a new superpower.
I kept asking questions.
"How does it stick?"
"Does it fall?"
"Who invented this?"
Jinal smile again.
I smiled.
Maybe I won't become a scientist.
But today...
I learned something that made life easier.
And that felt...
beautiful.
Then...
she told me more.
I didn't even ask.
But she started explaining how women grow.
How the body changes.
Why things feel different.
Why some days hurt more than others.
Why some thoughts feel confusing.
She spoke so normally.
So gently.
Like she knew I didn't know.
But I don't think she knows my past.
If she did... her eyes would have changed.
Her voice would have become heavy.
It didn't.
She explained everything the way a teacher explains to a child
not with pity,
not with shock,
just with patience.
The doubts I had about my chest...
about that area...
about why my body felt strange sometimes...
Everything became clear.
For the first time, I didn't feel scared of my own body.
I nodded slowly while listening.
"Oh... so that's why."
I felt lighter.
Less confused.
There are still a few questions left.
Big ones.
Important ones.
But I don't know how to ask them yet.
Not because I'm scared...
but because I want to ask them at the right time.
One day.
When I feel a little more comfortable.
One day...
I will ask.
since pati ji didn't come back.
That night...
I was asleep.
Suddenly, I felt it again.
The fear.
In my dream, Bapu was there.
His voice.
His anger.
His hands.
He was beating me.
I tried to scream but no sound came out.
My throat burned.
I tried to call for help, but my voice was trapped inside me.
No one came.
I was helpless.
Then
I woke up.
Gasping for air.
My chest felt tight like someone was sitting on it.
My whole body was shaking.
Sweat covered my face.
I looked around the room desperately.
"Pati ji...?"
Nothing.
The bed beside me was empty.
Cold.
My heart started pounding faster.
What if Bapu is here?
What if he came to take me back?
I panicked.
I jumped off the bed and ran.
I didn't even think where I was going.
I just ran
so he wouldn't hit me again.
So no one could lock me again.
My feet stopped suddenly when I hit something hard.
A door.
I knocked no, I banged on it with both hands.
Before I could think, the door opened.
I crashed straight into Reyansh bhaiyya's room, trembling, breathless, terrified
like a scared child who had nowhere else to go.
My voice was breaking.
I was breathing so fast that my chest hurt.
Reyansh bhaiyya froze for a second and then panic took over him.
"Devu?"
He rushed toward me.
"What happened? Why are you shaking?"
I opened my mouth.
But the words...
they got stuck.
Bapu's voice echoed in my head.
My fingers curled into my dupatta tightly.
I couldn't tell him.
I couldn't.
My breath was uneven.
My lips trembled.
"Woh..."
I swallowed hard.
"I was... breathing... heavy..."
He held my shoulders gently but firmly, making me sit on the edge of the bed.
"Slow down," he said softly.
"Devu, look at me. Breathe."
He demonstrated it
in... out...
slowly.
I tried to copy him.
Tears rolled down on their own.
"I-it's nothing," I finally whispered.
"It's... just a... bad dream."
His brows furrowed.
"A bad dream doesn't make you run like this," he said quietly.
"Did someone scare you?"
I shook my head instantly.
Too fast.
I kept my eyes lowered.
He didn't believe me.
I could feel it.
But he didn't push.
Instead, he gently pulled me closer
not hugging tightly, just enough so I wouldn't feel alone.
"It's okay," he said in a low, calm voice.
"You're safe here, Devu. No one can hurt you."
My body reacted before my mind.
I started crying.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
Just silent tears
the kind that fall when you're too tired to scream.
He froze again, unsure.
"Hey... hey..."
His voice softened.
"Don't cry like that."
He handed me a glass of water with shaking hands.
I drank slowly, my hands trembling so much that some water spilled.
He noticed everything.
"You can sleep here tonight," he said after a moment.
"No questions. No explanations."
I looked up at him, scared.
"I don't want to trouble you..."
"You're not a trouble," he said firmly.
"Ever."
Something inside me cracked at that word.
Ever.
I nodded slowly.
He spread an extra blanket on the bed, keeping distance, giving me space
but he didn't leave.
As I lay down, my eyes finally started closing.
Just before sleep took me, I heard him whisper
not to me, but to himself:
And for the first time in days,
I slept without fear
because someone was awake for me.
And then... it didn't stop.
That night became the beginning of a habit
I didn't know how to break.
Every night, it was the same.
I would fall asleep for a few hours
and then suddenly
hands on my arms
anger in my ears
pain burning on my skin
I would wake up gasping, my heart racing like it wanted to escape my chest.
Sweat soaked my clothes.
My hands shook so badly I could barely stand.
And without thinking
without even checking where I was
my feet would carry me there.
Reyansh bhaiyya's door.
Every.
Single.
Night.
Sometimes I knocked.
Sometimes I didn't.
I would just push the door open with trembling fingers and whisper
"Bhaiyyaa..."
He never shouted.
Not once.
No matter how late it was.
No matter how tired he looked.
He would sit up instantly, eyes alert, fear replacing sleep.
I would nod.
That was all.
No explanations.
No questions.
He would make space for me on the bed or sometimes just sit beside me on the floor.
"Breathe," he would say softly.
"Count with me."
One...
Two...
Three...
Some nights, I cried quietly.
Some nights, I just stared at the wall, too numb to feel anything.
Some nights, I clutched his sleeve like a child afraid of being left alone.
And he let me.
He never asked why.
He never forced me to talk.
But I could feel it
the way his jaw tightened,
the way his fists clenched when he thought I wasn't looking.
He knew something was wrong.
He just didn't know how deep it went.
Slowly...
very slowly...
my fear learned a new place to rest.
Not in my room.
Not in the dark.
But outside his door.
And that scared me too.
Because habits mean dependency.
Just like I did
when my pati ji disappeared.
Then one day... Reyansh bhaiyya did something unexpected.
He told me to get ready.
"Where are we going?" I asked, suspicious.
"Just... somewhere," he said too casually.
That itself was scary.
We sat in the car.
I kept looking outside, trying to guess the place.
Hospital
My heart dropped.
"No."
"No no no."
I froze.
Reyansh bhaiyya got out and opened my door.
"Come, Devu."
I didn't move.
"Why did you bring me here?" My voice cracked.
"Did I do something wrong?"
"What? No!" He immediately crouched in front of me.
"Devu, listen to me."
I shook my head violently.
"I don't want injections."
"I don't want those big needles."
"I saw them on TV long, shiny, like pins—
they go inside skin and—"
"I don't want it!"
Tears were already falling.
"Please bhaiyya," I cried.
"Please... I'll behave. I won't ask questions. I won't trouble anyone."
His face changed instantly.
"Hey no. No no."
He held my shoulders gently.
"Devu, nobody is punishing you."
I looked at him, terrified.
"She won't give you any injection," he said softly.
"I promise."
I didn't trust him.
Because promises had always broken before.
Somehow... he convinced me.
I don't know how.
Maybe it was his voice.
I walked inside.
But the place... it didn't feel like a hospital.
No sharp smells.
No white beds.
No crying people.
It felt calm.
Quiet.
Almost like someone's living room.
Then I saw her.
A lady confident, bold, sitting straight.
Her eyes were sharp but kind, like she could see through people without hurting them.
She smiled at me.
I sat slowly.
She asked me questions.
Simple ones.
How do I sleep?
What scares me?
Do I get dreams?
I kept looking at Reyansh bhaiyya.
I didn't speak much.
Then his phone rang.
"I'll be right outside," he said softly and left.
The door closed.
And suddenly... it was just me and her.
My fingers twisted together.
She waited.
Didn't rush me.
So I spoke.
I told her about the dreams.
How hands grab me.
How my body freezes.
How my voice disappears.
How I wake up gasping, my heart beating like it will burst.
I told her how the dreams feel real.
Too real.
She listened.
Didn't interrupt.
Didn't widen her eyes in shock.
She smiled gently.
"These are memories, Devyani," she said.
"Not imagination."
I felt my chest tighten.
She continued softly,
"Your mind is replaying what your body remembers."
I shook my head.
She leaned forward slightly.
"Bad dreams fade," she said.
"But trauma... returns."
That word again.
Trauma.
She didn't say I was weak.
She didn't say I was lying.
She said
"What happened to you was real."
My eyes burned.
She told me that I am safe now.
That my mind is trying to protect me.
That healing takes time.
She smiled again.
"You survived, Devyani," she said.
"That itself makes you strong."
Strong.
No one had ever called me that.
When Reyansh bhaiyya came back, the session ended.
I didn't tell him everything.
I couldn't.
But somehow... my chest felt lighter.
On the way back to the haveli, he stopped the car.
Ice cream.
Chocolate.
With sprinkles.
I ate quietly.
The cold made my head hurt a little, but I liked it.
Reyansh bhaiyya glanced at me.
"You okay?" he asked.
I nodded.
"I think..." I said slowly,
"Dreams are not lying."
He didn't reply.
He just drove.
And for the first time in a long time...
the road didn't feel like it was taking me back to a cage.
She never knocked.
She just stood there, shaking.
Reyansh stopped asking why after the third night.
He already knew.
The doctor no, the psychiatrist had explained it clearly.
What Devyani was experiencing wasn't imagination.
It wasn't weakness.
And it definitely wasn't drama.
It was trauma response.
The psychiatrist had told Reyansh:
"When a person survives long-term abuse, their brain stays in survival mode.
Especially during sleep, when the conscious mind rests, the subconscious replays memories because it never got closure."
Devyani had lived eighteen years in constant fear.
Her brain had learned one thing only:
Be alert. Be ready. Be scared.
Add to that Rivan's sudden absence the one person who unknowingly became her anchor and her mind began collapsing inward.
"Stress triggers trauma memory," the psychiatrist explained.
"The absence of safety makes the brain believe the danger has returned."
Medicines could help her sleep.
They could calm her heart rate.
They could slow the panic.
But they could not erase trauma.
"Healing doesn't come from pills," the doctor said firmly.
"It comes from stability, reassurance, and time."
Reyansh had asked quietly,
"So... what should we do?"
The answer was simple.
And terrifying.
"Let her feel safe.
Let her decide where she wants to be.
Do not force recovery."
When Reyansh gently suggested Devyani shift to Jinal's room or Yashodha's she refused immediately.
A silent refusal.
But firm.
When someone offered to sleep beside her, she shook her head again.
She didn't want company.
The family soon noticed.
They noticed how Devyani stopped laughing at night.
How her hands trembled when the lights went off.
How she flinched at sudden sounds.
No one pitied her.
No one questioned her.
They were worried deeply.
But Devyani didn't want anyone inside her space.
So Reyansh did the only thing left.
He stayed.
Not beside her.
Not inside her room.
Outside.
Every night.
Sitting on the floor near her door.
Sometimes leaning against the wall.
Sometimes awake till sunrise.
If he heard a gasp
A cry
Even a sharp breath
He rushed in.
He didn't ask questions.
Didn't demand explanations.
He simply grounded her.
Spoke calmly.
Counted her breaths.
Reminded her where she was.
Slowly.
Patiently.
The psychiatrist had said one last thing:
"Until she finds something that gives her joy...
Until her mind learns that happiness exists outside survival...
She will not return to 'normal'."
Because trauma doesn't disappear.
It loosens its grip
Only when the person feels safe enough to let go.
And until then...
No medicine.
No logic.
No force
Would ever be enough.
Not even a shadow of a clue about where Rivan was.
Virendra used every contact he had.
Reyansh pushed every limit.
Aditya chased every possible lead.
Rajveer stayed until hope itself began to thin then he returned to Mumbai, defeated.
Those three months weren't heavy only for Devyani.
The entire haveli lived under a silent weight.
Everyone watched her.
Not out of pity
out of fear.
Fear that her fragile healing might crack again.
Her trauma had grown louder in Rivan's absence.
Some nights were calmer.
Some nights were unbearable.
Yet slowly, very slowly, things began to change.
They taught her.
Small things first.
She craved his presence.
Not his authority.
Not his name.
Just him.
Her pati parmeshwar ji.
In her quiet moments, a cruel thought started forming.
He disappeared because of me.
Because of her questions.
Her curiosity.
Her confusion.
She began blaming herself again
the same way she always had.
So she tried harder.
She learned faster.
Listened more.
Spoke less.
She told herself
If I become better... maybe he'll come back.
But what she didn't understand yet was this:
It was never stupidity.
It was learning.
And learning is not a flaw.
Virendra noticed the change in her.
The way she tried too hard.
The way she smiled just to prove she was improving.
The way guilt lived quietly behind her eyes.
One evening, he called her to his study.
Virendra called her one evening and spoke gently, carefully choosing his words.
"You don't need school, Devyani," he said.
"No uniforms. No classrooms."
She looked at him, confused and slightly scared.
"But you should know a few things... for yourself.
So that you never feel lost.
So that you never think you are less."
He told her it would remain between them.
No one would question her.
No one would label her.
She would learn slowly at her pace.
She nodded.
She always nodded.
Her tears soaked the fabric silently.
She cried every night.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
Just quiet tears slipping into the darkness.
It was night again.
It was a sound.
Soft at first.
Unclear.
Like something breaking... or someone crying far away.
Her heart thudded.
She opened her door slowly.
Reyansh was there.
Sleeping on the floor, his back against the wall, head bent forward, exhaustion carved into his posture.
For the past month, this had become his routine—guarding her sleep at the cost of his own.
She gently touched his shoulder.
"Bhaiyya..."
No response.
He was in deep sleep.
The kind that comes only when the body has surrendered.
She hesitated, then stood up again.
Because the sound came again.
Clearer now.
A cry.
Not loud.
But painful.
It was coming from Rivan's study.
Her breath hitched.
That room had been silent for months.
She walked toward it, every step heavy.
The moment she reached the door, the sound intensified as if the walls themselves were holding grief.
She pushed the door open.
The room was empty.
Her eyes scanned every corner.
Nothing.
Then she noticed it.
A door.
Half open.
A door that was always locked.
Her stomach twisted.
She swallowed hard and moved closer.
The moment she stepped inside, her soul froze.
This wasn't a room.
It was a nightmare carved into walls.
Chains hung from the ceiling.
Metal rings fixed into stone.
The air was thick stale, heavy, carrying a metallic smell that made her throat burn.
She staggered back a step.
Her hands trembled.
The lights were dim, barely alive, shadows clinging to corners like secrets.
Fear crawled up her spine.
Her breath became shallow.
Then
The scream again.
Closer.
Her heart pounded violently.
Every instinct screamed at her to run.
But another instinct one she had lived with all her life took over.
Someone is in pain.
She clenched her fists.
Curiosity wasn't what pulled her forward.
It was familiarity.
She knew that sound.
She stepped further in.
The space narrowed into a long, dark alley-like passage.
Walls closing in.
The air colder.
The screams echoing, bouncing, multiplying.
Her footsteps were barely audible, but her heartbeat thundered in her ears.
With every step, fear tightened its grip
Yet she kept walking.
Because somewhere deep inside, Devyani believed one thing:
What Devyani saw next shattered her forever.
At the end of the narrow passage
Standing there.
Blood smeared across his hands.
Streaked on his face.
Drops splattered on the floor like spilled rage.
In front of him, a man was tied with thick ropes, body trembling, face completely covered with black cloth.
Rivan's fist rose
And fell.
Again.
And again.
Each blow was merciless.
Precise.
Inhuman.
The sound of flesh meeting pain echoed through the walls.
For the world, it was brutality.
For Devyani
It was death.
Her breath stopped.
Her legs refused to move.
Seeing Rivan didn't bring relief.
It didn't bring safety.
It triggered everything.
The blood.
The violence.
The memories she had buried so deep that even nightmares hesitated to touch them.
Her vision blurred.
Her ears rang.
Her body locked in fear.
And then
She screamed.
A scream so raw, so broken, it ripped through the silence like glass shattering.
Her scream made Rivan freeze mid-air.
But Devyani didn't see that.
She turned.
And ran.
Ran like she always had.
Ran like a child escaping death.
"Please don't hit me—!"
"Please don't—please don't—!"
Her voice cracked as panic consumed her.
Her feet stumbled.
Her breath came in painful gasps.
She wasn't in the haveli anymore.
She was back in that cage.
Back in blood.
Back in pain.
She burst out of the corridor
Straight into Reyansh.
She crashed into him, gripping his clothes with shaking hands.
Reyansh's sleep vanished instantly.
But she wasn't looking.
Her eyes were wild.
Lost.
Drowned in terror.
She kept repeating the words like a broken chant.
Her body shook violently.
She clawed at Reyansh's chest as if he was the only thing anchoring her to reality.
Reyansh held her tightly, panic spreading through his veins.
But she couldn't listen.
She was too far gone.
The screams echoed through the haveli.
Lights turned on.
Doors opened.
Footsteps rushed.
Virendra arrived first his face drained of color.
Yashodha followed, her hand flying to her mouth.
Aditya.
Samar.
Jinal.
Everyone froze.
Devyani was screaming.
Crying.
Begging.
A grown woman reduced to a terrified child.
Yashodha's legs gave way.
She had to hold the wall to stay standing.
Virendra's eyes filled with tears.
This
This was the real cost of eighteen years.
This was the horror they could never undo.
Her screams suddenly broke.
Devyani's body went stiff.
Her breath came out in sharp, uneven gasps as she slowly turned around
as if some invisible force was pulling her.
No one understood.
Not Reyansh.
Not Yashodha.
Not Virendra.
They were all trying to calm her, trying to hold her together
Until they saw what she was seeing.
At the end of the corridor
RIVAN.
Standing completely still.
Blood everywhere.
His hands soaked red.
His shirt stained dark and heavy.
His face emotionless cold, unreadable, terrifying.
He stood outside his study room like a shadow pulled straight out of hell.
Time stopped.
No one moved.
No one breathed.
Virendra's heart sank to his feet.
Yashodha's knees weakened.
Aditya felt his chest tighten as if something was crushing his ribs.
This wasn't the Rivan they knew.
This was the man the underworld feared.
Devyani saw him.
Her eyes widened in pure horror.
Her lips trembled.
"No... no... no..."
Her legs finally gave up.
A broken scream tore out of her throat
And she collapsed.
Reyansh caught her just in time.
Her body went limp in his arms, breath uneven, fingers still clutching his shirt as if letting go meant death.
Her head fell against his shoulder.
Unconscious.
Silent.
The hallway echoed with nothing but her fading sobs.
Rivan's gaze dropped to her.
For the first time
The blood on his hands felt heavier than any sin he had committed.
The man who could destroy cities
Stood helpless.
And the family knew
This wasn't just rage anymore.
This was irreversible damage.
Rivan took a step forward.
Just one.
His eyes were fixed on Devyani's unconscious face
pale, trembling, broken.
Before he could even reach out
Reyansh's voice cut through the air like a blade.
Rivan froze.
Reyansh tightened his hold on Devyani, instinctively shielding her body as if Rivan himself were the danger now.
Rivan stood there.
Blood dripping from his fingers onto the marble floor.
Silent.
Rivan's jaw clenched.
Reyansh's eyes burned.
The words landed harder than any bullet.
Rivan didn't move.
Didn't argue.
Didn't defend himself.
Reyansh bent slightly and adjusted Devyani in his arms, her head resting against his chest, her breath still uneven.
Out of the sight.
Out of Rivan's reach.
The family parted silently, no one stopping Reyansh.
No one looking at Rivan.
Because for the first time
They didn't see a protector.
They saw the storm that destroyed everything it touched.
Rivan remained where he was.
Alone.
Blood on his hands.
And the unbearable truth finally sinking in
Everyone ran after Devyani.
They knew.
Blood terrified her.
And seeing Rivan drenched in it had pushed her trauma beyond limits.
The corridor emptied.
Doors slammed.
Footsteps faded.
Only Virendra remained.
Rivan stood there
motionless, emotionless like a statue carved out of destruction.
Virendra turned slowly.
And then he saw him properly.
Not the Rivan Thakur the world feared.
Not the heir.
Not the mafia king.
But a man who had destroyed himself piece by piece.
His hair was unkempt, falling wildly over his forehead.
A rough beard covered his jaw grown without care, without sleep.
His eyes were swollen, hollow, rimmed red like he hadn't slept for days... no—months.
Blood wasn't just on his clothes.
It was on his skin.
Fresh stitches ran along his forearm
crooked, uneven.
Self-stitched.
Virendra's breath hitched when he noticed the thin cuts along Rivan's neck.
Careless.
Reckless.
Like pain meant nothing to him anymore.
Or maybe pain was the only thing he felt.
Virendra took a step forward, his voice breaking the silence like thunder.
Rivan didn't blink.
"Huh?" Virendra snapped, anger rising.
"Do you have any idea what you've done?"
Rivan's gaze stayed empty.
Virendra's voice shook now not with anger, but disbelief.
"And have you completely lost your mind?"
"Why the hell are you killing someone inside the haveli?"
Still no answer.
Virendra swallowed hard.
For the first time in his life
he felt fear looking at Rivan.
Not fear of his power.
But fear of how far he had fallen.
Rivan's jaw tightened.
His fingers curled slowly blood cracking over dried skin.
Danger radiated off him.
Not loud.
Not explosive.
But silent.
Controlled.
Deadly.
This wasn't rage anymore.
This was a man who had crossed a line
and didn't know how to come back.
Virendra's voice softened, trembling.
"You didn't just scare her, Rivan," he said.
"You shattered her."
Rivan's eyes flickered for the first time.
Just once.
Pain passed through them dark, violent, unbearable.
But it vanished just as quickly.
He looked away.
And that silence
That silence was more dangerous than his anger ever was.
Virendra's voice echoed in the dark corridor, sharp and demanding.
Slowly...
Very slowly...
Rivan lifted his head.
His eyes met Virendra's
and there was nothing human left in them.
No anger.
No pain.
No emotion.
Just emptiness.
He spoke.
Low.
Cold.
Dead.
Virendra's breath hitched.
Rivan took one step forward.
Blood dripped from his fingers to the marble floor
slow... deliberate... like punctuation to his words.
His voice didn't rise.
That was the terrifying part.
"I didn't go missing," he continued calmly.
"I went hunting."
Virendra's face drained of color.
Rivan's lips curved not into a smile, but something far worse.
"Every lie you told me,"
"Every truth you decided I didn't deserve,"
"I peeled it off people... layer by layer."
He leaned closer, eyes darkening.
"And trust me," he whispered,
"the screams were very cooperative."
Virendra felt a chill crawl up his spine.
Rivan straightened.
"This—" he gestured to himself, to the blood, the wounds, the destruction
"—this is what comes after."
Silence fell heavy.
Then Rivan added, almost thoughtfully:
A pause.
The air felt poisonous.
Virendra realized it then
Whatever Rivan had discovered...
Whatever he had done to uncover it...
This was no longer just about secrets.
This was about something far more dangerous.
And Rivan Thakur had already crossed the point of return.
Glimpse:
"It's okay," he continued gently.
"There's nothing wrong. Nothing to cry about."
His voice dropped even more.
He cupped her face gently, wiping her tears with his thumb.
"Baby, I'm here, right?" he said softly.
"Okay, stop crying now. No need to cry... it's normal."
He smiled reassuringly.
"Every girl gets this. So relax, haa."
Devyani sniffed and frowned slightly.
"O...okay, that's what I'm saying," she muttered.
"You are not a... girl, so please call Jinal."
Rivan raised an eyebrow, half amused, half helpless.
"I'm not a girl," he said patiently,
"I'm your husband, Devyani. Let me help you."
.
.
.
"I know I have a little wife who needs pampering and understanding. So I prepared myself long back."
Her eyes widened.
"Ohhh... so every girl discusses these things with their husbands?"
He shook his head, firm yet tender.
"I am not the husband of every girl," he said, looking straight at her.
"I am the husband of only my girl. So don't think about others just think about you."
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