Chapter 2
Shaurya
I stare at the transfer papers spread across my desk, my gaze fixed on the single line awaiting her signature. Just one signature from my wife. That is all that stands between me and the promise I made to my father.
For years, I’ve waited for this moment. For the triumph. The satisfaction. The quiet vindication of finally bringing Rajmahal home. But now that everything I’ve ever wanted is within reach, I cannot bring myself to reach for it.
Damn it. Getting her signature should have been the easiest thing in the world.
Instead, it has become the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.
The transfer papers have been ready since the day Reeva and I got married, yet eight months have passed without me placing them before her.
I fucking know that every day I delay is another day I fail to honour the promise I made to my father.
But somewhere along the way, hesitation took hold.
I shut my eyes.
After my father’s death, I learned that Arvind Singhania had transferred Rajmahal to his daughter on the day she was born, making her the legal heir to the property.
A part of me had always regretted that Arvind Singhania wasn’t alive to answer for what he’d done.
Death had spared him the reckoning he deserved.
But his death hadn’t erased what my family had lost, and I refused to let it end my pursuit of what was ours.
If I couldn’t settle the score with him, I’d find another way.
So I wagered everything on a single ruthless gamble: marriage.
The plan had been simple. Make Reeva fall in love with me. Marry her. Play the role of the devoted, loving husband. Earn her complete trust until she’d willingly do, say, or sign anything I asked of her. Every smile, every romantic gesture, every moment we shared was meant to draw her closer.
And now, I’d reached the very moment I’d spent years working towards.
Reeva loved me with absolute faith and trusted me without question.
I knew that if I placed those papers before her, she’d sign them without reading a single line.
But I couldn’t bring myself to take advantage of the very trust I’d spent months earning through lies.
Somewhere between manipulating her, orchestrating every moment to make her fall in love with me, and waking up beside her every morning, the line between the perfect husband I had set out to play and the man genuinely drawn to her has blurred beyond recognition.
Sure, she’d captivated me from the very first moment I saw her.
Her long chestnut-brown hair, those expressive brown eyes that wore every emotion she felt, and the way her petite frame barely reached my shoulder had all caught my attention.
Back then, I’d dismissed it as nothing more than physical attraction, convincing myself I could keep my emotions in check while staying focused on my plan.
What I hadn’t expected was for her to become the one place where the relentless chaos in my mind finally fell silent.
I hadn’t expected the sight of her smile to make my heart feel lighter or the sound of her laughter to become my favourite melody.
And I certainly hadn’t expected that simply coming home to her would become the best part of my day.
God.
The excitement that lights up her face whenever she sees me.
The way she stubbornly refuses to eat until I join her, no matter how late I return from work.
The way she gently takes the file from my hands when I fall asleep reading it and drapes a blanket over me.
The kindness and respect she shows every member of our staff.
The way she never forgets Dadiji’s medicines.
The way she continues trying to win my mother’s heart, never allowing rejection to diminish her warmth.
All of it has slowly unravelled every defence I spent a lifetime building until, somehow, she has become my greatest weakness.
My gaze drifts to the silver-framed photograph resting in the corner of my mahogany desk. A candid shot of Reeva laughing, her head thrown back and her eyes sparkling with unrestrained joy.
I still remember that day. It had been only a few weeks after our wedding. We’d escaped to the terrace after the season’s first rain, and she’d insisted on making paper boats like an excited child.
“You take life too seriously,” she’d teased, placing another paper boat into a rain-filled puddle.
“And you don’t take it seriously enough,” I’d replied, watching her with amusement.
She didn’t reply and just laughed as she ran barefoot through the rain, chasing her little fleet of paper boats. She looked impossibly happy, and without realising it, I’d pulled out my phone and captured the moment.
Then she’d lost her footing, and before I even registered that I’d moved, she was already safe in my arms.
She simply looked up at me, her eyes holding nothing but complete, unwavering trust. “You’ll always catch me, won’t you?” she’d whispered.
Without hesitation, I’d answered, “Always.”
My fingers curl into fists.
Life has a twisted way of demanding the impossible. Two promises define my life. One made to my father, the other to my wife. And now both hang by a thread. Honouring one means betraying the other. No matter which promise I choose to keep, I’ll have to break the one that matters just as much.
Fuck... I never planned for any of this.
Affection was never part of the equation.
Neither was guilt. I was supposed to manipulate her, not care about her.
Then why the hell am I letting the very woman I married for my own selfish reasons become the one standing between me and the promise I made to my father?
More importantly... why does the thought of hurting her feel worse than breaking that promise?
My office suddenly feels suffocating. I push back my chair and stride towards the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city below, bracing my palms against the cool glass.
I’ve spent my entire life believing that every goal demands a sacrifice. I’ve never hesitated to pay the price, no matter how steep the cost. But for the first time, I find myself unable to make the one sacrifice that will give me everything I’ve spent years fighting for.
A knock on my office door shatters the turmoil raging inside me. I close my eyes for a brief moment, forcing every trace of emotion behind the mask before calling out, “Come in.”
Turning away from the window, I return to my desk and settle into my chair as the door opens and my lawyer steps inside.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Rajvansh,” Ram Mehta greets me as he comes to a stop opposite my desk.
I gesture for him to take the seat across from mine.
In his late fifties, with neatly combed salt-and-pepper hair, sharp, observant eyes behind rimless glasses, and the composed confidence that comes from three decades in corporate law, he carries himself with quiet authority.
Every crease in his impeccably tailored black suit speaks of discipline rather than age.
We’ve worked together for nearly a decade, and in that time, he has become far more than the Rajvansh family’s legal counsel.
“I am here to collect the transfer deed, Mr. Rajvansh,” he says, his gaze shifting to the folder lying open on my desk.
“It’s still not signed,” I reply flatly, giving him the same answer I’ve given over the past several months.
A flicker of concern crosses his face. He parts his lips, no doubt preparing to remind me that the transfer couldn’t be delayed forever. But before he can say a word, another knock sounds at the door.
It opens before I can respond.
My mother walks in, draped in an elegant ivory silk saree, her sharp gaze sweeping across the room before settling on the documents spread across my desk.
“They’re ready?” she asks.
Mr. Mehta immediately rises from his chair and inclines his head respectfully. “Only Mrs. Reeva Rajvansh’s signature is pending, ma’am.”
She acknowledges him with a brief nod before adding, “Mr. Mehta, would you mind giving us a few minutes?”
“Of course, ma’am,” he says to my mother, offering me a polite nod before quietly letting himself out and closing the door behind him.
My mother doesn’t speak immediately. Her gaze moves from the transfer papers on my desk to the silver-framed photograph of Reeva before she lets out a quiet sigh and lowers herself into the chair opposite me.
“So… you still haven’t had your wife sign the papers,” she says at last, disappointment lacing every word.
I don’t answer.
She shakes her head. “I thought bringing Rajmahal home was all you ever wanted. I believed that when the opportunity finally came, you wouldn’t waste a single second.”
Every word lands like another weight on my conscience.
“I’ll get them signed today,” I say, hoping my answer will stop her from probing any further.
But Mom, being Mom, isn’t so easily convinced. She studies me for a long, searching moment, her sharp gaze lingering on my face before it drifts to the framed photograph of Reeva on my desk.
“Will you?” Her fingers brush the edge of the frame. “She is beautiful. I only hope she hasn’t bewitched you, and that you haven’t forgotten who she is.”
“I haven’t forgotten,” I say, my voice steady enough to hide the storm beneath it. “I know exactly who she is and why I married her.”
“Good.” A faint smile touches her lips, though it never reaches her eyes.
“For a moment, I thought you might allow your emotions to cloud your judgement.” Her gaze lingers on the framed photograph of Reeva before shifting back to me.
“Never forget what that family cost us. Love has a way of making even the strongest men forget their purpose. Don’t let your heart become the reason you break the promise you made to your father.
” She pauses, her expression hardening. “She may be your wife, Shaurya... but before she became a Rajvansh, she was a Singhania. Never lose sight of that.”
“I haven’t lost sight of anything,” I say, my voice hard enough to end the conversation.
“I know I’ve delayed, but that ends today.
” A muscle ticks in my jaw as I lean forward.
“Rest assured, Mom. There isn’t a single emotion in my marriage that you need to worry about.
Nothing has changed. This marriage means nothing to me beyond what it was always meant to be. ” The words taste like ash in my mouth.
“I know,” she says, releasing a weary breath. “But every day this drags on, it becomes harder.” Her fingers tighten around the armrest of the chair. “Every time I look at her, I remember everything her father took from your father.”
My mother had agreed to this marriage for one reason and one reason alone: to bring Rajmahal home. She had endured the thought of welcoming Arvind Singhania’s daughter into our family because she believed it was the only way to fulfil my father’s final wish.
“I barely tolerate her presence in the house, beta. I see her setting the breakfast table every morning, and all I can think about is your father sitting in silence, barely touching his food for days. I see her smile...” She swallows hard, her composure wavering.
“And I remember your father staring out of the window for hours, saying nothing, carrying his pain.” She closes her eyes.
“Every time I look at her, I am reminded of the only regret your father carried until his very last breath.”
When she opens her eyes again, they’re glistening with unshed tears.
“I buried my husband knowing he died believing he’d failed his family.
And all because of Arvind Singhania.” Her voice cracks.
“I just can’t forget that Reeva is his daughter…
a living reminder of the man who shattered your father’s heart.
Her mere presence brings back everything he suffered. ”
Guilt settles like lead in my chest.
I can’t afford to forget why this marriage began. It was always meant to serve only one purpose. Everything else... my feelings, my guilt, even my marriage, is irrelevant.
“Mom, today I’ll get those papers signed.
Dad’s soul has waited long enough. Today, he’ll finally rest in peace.
” My gaze drops to the transfer papers. “My months of manipulating Reeva, of playing the perfect husband, of making her believe our marriage is real... none of it will go to waste. I’ll have her sign the papers transferring Rajmahal back to us. ”
“That’s my son,” she says quietly, pride replacing the disappointment in her eyes.
She rises from her chair and smooths the pleats of her saree before making her way to the door. Her hand pauses on the doorknob. Looking back over her shoulder, she meets my gaze one last time.
“Bring Rajmahal home, Shaurya.”
Without waiting for a response, she opens the door and walks out, leaving the room wrapped in a heavy silence.
My gaze drifts back to the photograph on my desk. Slowly, I reach for the frame, my thumb brushing gently over Reeva’s smiling face as a long, unsteady breath leaves my lungs.
“I am sorry. I promised I’d always catch you, but today, I have to be the reason you fall.” The confession rips through me.
Reeva loves me with a faith so complete that she has placed her entire world in my hands. She believes I am the man who will protect her from everything, unaware that the person she considers her safest place is the very one who will destroy her.