Chapter Nineteen
Author’s POV:
Ria barely managed to take a full breath before she saw Aansh walking up to them, the crowd seeming to part with each step of his calculated, slow stride.
There was something unsettling in the air now, a quiet that screamed louder than music. The way his sharp gaze landed on Ishaan was enough to freeze blood.
Ishaan straightened casually, as if unaware of the brewing storm. “Mr. Rathore, I was just talking to your wife about—”
“I believe,” Aansh interrupted, calm and dangerous, “there’s nothing important enough for you to say to my wife.”
The silence that followed was suffocating.
“Oh come on, don’t be the jealous type of husband,” Ishaan said, chuckling casually, brushing a hand through his hair like this was some playful encounter.
“Jealous?” Aansh whispered, and the word dripped like venom from his lips.
He stepped forward.
“When I get possessive, Ishaan…” Aansh’s voice turned into a deadly murmur, “…it’s not the kind that leads to drunken texts or jealous tantrums. It’s the kind that ends careers… or lives.”
His tone wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be. Every syllable hit like a cold blade.
Ria could only stare at him, breath caught, stunned by the slow-burning fury that seemed to pour off him in waves.
She wasn’t sure what scared her more — the fact that he said it… or the strange thrum in her chest hearing it.
Before she could process what was happening, a low laugh broke the thick silence.
Her head whipped toward the sound.
And she couldn't believe who it was.
“Oh my God… Karthik Singhania,” she breathed.
The second most powerful name in India. A billionaire tech mogul. The king of cyber security.
Karthik raised a brow, hearing his name. He was stunt by his bhabhi's beauty.
Ishaan finally got the hint and muttered a polite goodbye before walking away. Aansh didn’t even acknowledge his exit.
“Wow… you really are beautiful,” Karthik finally said, turning to Ria with an easy, charming smile.
Ria gave a small smile. “Thank you.”
“I’m—”
“Karthik Singhania,” she squealed, barely controlling her fan-girl excitement. “You know, when I started college I actually wanted to pursue IT. You inspired me. But I ended up following my real passion from high school… And—” she hesitated, then blurted out, “my cousin even has a crush on you!”
Silence.
Both men stared at her like she’d just confessed a crime.
Ria blinked.
“Oh my God… I said that out loud,” she mumbled, mortified, biting her lip.
Karthik let out a full laugh. “You’re adorable. And I still can’t believe a woman, so beautiful like you is married to my heartless best friend.”
Aansh’s eyes darkened. His jaw clenched.
“At least someone knows,” Ria muttered under her breath — but it was just loud enough for both men to hear.
The air shifted.
Aansh grabbed her arm, his grip firm but not rough. “Excuse us,” he said, not waiting for permission.
Karthik smirked. “Of course. Enjoy yourselves.”
---
He dragged her through the maze of lights and guests, past the swing, past the whispers, and out toward the secluded garden terrace.
The moment they were alone, Aansh let go, spinning around to face her, fury practically radiating off his body.
“What the hell were you doing with that man?” he demanded.
Ria, confused, stepped back. “What do you mean?”
“With the Mehra heir,” he spat. “Do you know who he is?”
That’s when it clicked, that's why he looked familiar to her.
Ishaan Mehra.
Her eyes widened slightly.
“We were just talking,” she whispered, the wind tugging at the edges of her dupatta.
“Talking?” he growled. “About what exactly?”
He stepped closer and Ria flinched.
She had tried to keep it together all night. She had smiled through fake blessings, kept her chin high through gossip, stood alone on her wedding stage. But now, he was the one angry?
Her throat burned.
“Why are you angry?” she whispered, voice trembling.
Aansh froze.
“You left me to face our reception alone. I sat there while people whispered about me, asking where my husband was, whether this marriage was even real. You left me to be judged by the world — and now you're mad because I talked to someone?”
She could feel the tears rising.
His expression faltered for a heartbeat. Just one.
Then the cold returned.
“I didn’t promise you roses and love, did I?” he snapped, voice biting.
Her shoulders stiffened.
“So stop expecting them. This marriage is what it is. A deal. You live in this house. You follow the rules. And in return, you stay out of my way. And i dont care what men you speak with, but stay away from the Mehras.”
Ria stared at him, lips trembling, but he didn’t stop.
“And let me make something very clear,” he added, stepping forward. “Tonight was your one and only appearance as my wife. From now on, don’t act like we’re anything more than strangers bound by a mistake.”
The words hit her like a slap.
A mistake.
He saw her… as a mistake. She knew what he said was true, yet she expected him to feel remorse, but Aansh Rathore doesn't feel.
Aansh turned and walked away, leaving her there.
And Ria broke.
She stood frozen on the terrace, the cold wind whispering around her as tears fell silently, soaking her cheeks, dripping down to the marble.
Her heart throbbed in her chest, raw and torn.
She didn’t know how long she stood there, but when the tears dried and the ache dulled to numbness, she wrapped her arms around herself. Her dupatta offered little warmth, but it was all she had.
She couldn't pretend anymore, not after this.
She turned and walked away.
Through the back garden.
Past the string lights and the guards.
To the black car parked in the shadows.
“Take me home,” she said softly to the driver.
“But ma’am… the event—”
“I’m not feeling well,” she whispered. “Please.”
The driver nodded quickly and opened the door.
The ride back to the mansion was silent. The soft hum of the engine was the only sound between her thoughts.
I want to go home. I want to be loved again. I want… to feel like Ria again. She yearned for her family.
The car pulled into the Rathore estate.
She stepped out, dragging her lehenga behind her like a chain, a prisoner in a palace.
She closed the door behind her, alone.
The moment it shut, she ripped the earrings off. The necklace followed. One by one, she stripped away the layers of a life that didn’t belong to her.
She walked to the bathroom like a ghost, peeled the heavy black lehenga from her tired body, and stepped under the shower.
The cold water hit her skin.
And she finally sobbed.
She cried for the girl she used to be. For the love she once believed in. For the fairytale that had turned into a nightmare.
When she finally stepped out, she put on a simple cotton nightdress — pale blue, soft, and hers.
She walked to the couch and curled up, hugging her knees to her chest.
“A bride… left her own reception,” she whispered.
A bitter smile tugged at her lips.
What kind of story is this?
Sleep found her in broken pieces.
And the night went on, unbothered by the tears it left behind.
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What do you guys think about this chapter.??