Chapter 4 #2
"Such high praise, Mr. Chaturvedi," Poorvanshi replied dryly, walking past him towards the front doors. "Try not to flatter me too much."
Ishaan opened the doors of the black Rolls-Royce for them, and they slid into the spacious backseat.
The drive to the hotel was completely silent.
The thick glass of the car blocked out the noise of the city, leaving Poorvanshi alone with the sharp scent of Siddhant’s cedarwood cologne and the erratic beating of her own heart.
As the car turned onto the main road leading to the grand luxury hotel, Poorvanshi finally saw the nightmare waiting for her.
The entrance to the hotel was blocked by massive metal barricades. Behind the barricades stood dozens of reporters, holding large cameras with blinding flashbulbs, thick microphones, and bright video lights. It looked like a chaotic sea of shouting people, all waiting for fresh meat.
Poorvanshi’s hands instinctively curled into tight fists on her lap. She felt a sudden wave of panic rising in her chest. She was an architect, not a celebrity. She did not know how to handle aggressive crowds.
Siddhant noticed her sudden stiffness. He looked down at her tightly clenched hands.
"Look at me," Siddhant commanded quietly.
Poorvanshi turned her head, her brown eyes wide with genuine anxiety.
"You do not look at them," Siddhant instructed, his voice low, steady, and incredibly grounding. "You do not answer their questions. You do not smile, and you do not frown. Keep your head high and your eyes focused on the entrance doors. I will handle the rest. Do you understand?"
His absolute confidence acted like an anchor in a storm. Poorvanshi nodded slowly, taking a deep breath to steady her racing pulse. "I understand."
The Rolls-Royce glided to a smooth stop right in front of the red carpet.
The moment the car stopped, the media went completely wild. The flashes of the cameras started firing like lightning, lighting up the inside of the dark car with blinding white light. The reporters began shouting loudly, pressing aggressively against the security barricades.
Ishaan and three other massive security guards stepped out of the front vehicles, forming a protective wall. Ishaan opened the back door.
Siddhant stepped out first. He stood tall, buttoning his tuxedo jacket with one hand, his expression completely cold and terrifying. The shouting of the reporters instantly died down by half. No one wanted to anger the Devil of Delhi.
Then, Siddhant turned and held his hand out towards the dark interior of the car.
Poorvanshi looked at his large, strong hand for a second before placing her smaller hand inside it. His grip was firm, warm, and instantly reassuring. With his help, she stepped out onto the red carpet.
The moment the media saw her, the absolute chaos resumed.
"Miss Rathore!" a reporter screamed, shoving a microphone past a security guard's shoulder. "Is it true Aryan left because he found out you were seeing someone else?"
"Poorvanshi! How much money did the Chaturvedis pay your father for this alliance?"
"Are you embarrassed? Why are you showing your face after being dumped at the altar?"
The questions were brutal, invasive, and designed to make her break.
The blinding flashes of the cameras hurt her eyes, and the sheer volume of the shouting made her ears ring.
Despite her determination to stay strong, Poorvanshi felt herself instinctively shrinking back, her confidence shattering under the weight of their cruelty.
Siddhant felt her pull back slightly.
Suddenly, he stopped walking.
He dropped her hand.
Poorvanshi panicked for a split second, thinking he was abandoning her to the wolves.
But Siddhant did not walk away. Instead, he took a step closer to her, closing the physical distance between them until there was absolutely no space left. Then, with a smooth, deliberate motion, Siddhant reached out and wrapped his large, strong arm firmly around Poorvanshi’s waist.
The physical contact sent a massive shockwave straight through Poorvanshi’s entire body.
His hand was large and hot against the side of her waist, his long fingers gripping the black fabric of her dress with a fierce, unmistakable possessiveness.
He pulled her flush against his solid side, completely shielding her body from the aggressive crowd.
It was an incredibly intimate, protective gesture that entirely defied the cold, distant rules they had established.
The entire crowd of reporters went completely silent.
The aggressive shouting stopped instantly.
The rapid clicking of the cameras slowed to a halt.
Everyone stared in absolute shock. Siddhant Chaturvedi, the man who was famously known for never allowing anyone into his personal space, the man who hated the media, was holding a woman with a protective intensity that screamed danger to anyone who dared to cross him.
Siddhant turned his head slowly, his dark, deadly eyes scanning the terrified faces of the reporters.
"I will say this exactly once," Siddhant’s voice wasn't loud, but it carried clearly in the dead silence, freezing the blood of everyone listening.
"Miss Rathore is under the direct, personal protection of the Chaturvedi family.
Anyone who prints a single rumor, anyone who asks her a disrespectful question, will not just face a lawsuit.
I will personally buy the publication you work for, and I will ensure you never write a single word in this city again. "
He stared down the reporter who had asked the cruelest question. The man practically shrank back into the crowd, his face pale with pure terror.
"Are we absolutely clear?" Siddhant asked softly.
No one dared to speak. A few reporters quickly nodded, too afraid to even take another photograph.
Satisfied with their silence, Siddhant turned his attention back to Poorvanshi. His cold expression softened just a fraction as he looked down at her. "Let's go," he murmured gently.
He didn't remove his arm from her waist. He kept her tucked securely against his side as they walked the rest of the way up the red carpet and through the massive glass doors of the hotel, leaving the stunned, silent media circus behind them.
Once they were inside the grand, quiet lobby of the hotel, the heavy glass doors shutting out the chaos of the world outside, Poorvanshi finally let out the breath she didn't realize she had been holding.
Her heart was beating so fast it felt like a bird trapped in a cage. Her entire side felt like it was on fire where Siddhant's body was pressed against hers.
Siddhant slowly removed his arm from her waist, stepping back to give her space. The sudden absence of his warmth left her feeling strangely cold and empty.
"Are you alright?" Siddhant asked, his voice returning to its normal, smooth tone, though he was watching her carefully.
Poorvanshi looked up at him. She was expecting to see the cold, calculating businessman who only cared about his family's reputation. But in his dark eyes, she saw something else. She saw genuine concern. She saw the fierce, protective instinct of a man who would burn down a city to keep her safe.
"I am fine," Poorvanshi whispered, her voice a little shaky. "You... you didn't have to do that. The threat."
"I don't make empty threats, Poorvanshi," Siddhant replied quietly, adjusting his cufflinks. "They needed to understand the rules. You belong with my family now. No one gets to disrespect what is mine."
The words sent a thrill of dangerous electricity straight to her core. 'What is mine.' It was a statement of control, but the way he looked at her made it feel entirely different. It felt like a promise.
"Thank you," Poorvanshi said softly, meaning it for the very first time since she met him.
Siddhant looked at her for a long moment, the electric tension crackling between them once again, far stronger than before.
The lines were starting to blur. He had stepped in to protect the family name, but as he looked at the beautiful, brave woman standing in front of him, he realized that he had really stepped in simply to protect 'her'.
"Come," Siddhant said finally, holding out his arm for her to take politely this time. "Let us go show the rest of the city exactly how unbroken you are."
Poorvanshi smiled, a real, genuine smile that lit up her entire face, completely erasing the shadows of the morning’s rumors. She placed her hand lightly on his arm, and together, they walked into the grand ballroom.
The Devil had just declared his protection over her to the entire world, and for the first time, Poorvanshi felt completely, completely safe in his shadow.