Mere pati Parmeshwar ji banengge aap? #3
"What happened?"
No answer.
Only another tear rolling silently down her face.
His brows drew together.
His concern sharpened.
"Kitten..."
This time his tone softened.
Painfully so.
"Look at me."
Slowly...
Almost hesitantly...
She lifted her eyes to meet his.
The moment he saw the fear buried inside them...
His heartbeat stumbled.
He had seen her cry before.
He had seen her angry.
He had seen her disappointed.
But this...
This was different.
This looked like someone carrying the weight of an entire world.
His thumb gently wiped another tear from her cheek.
"Talk to me."
His voice trembled despite himself.
"Please."
"I can't help you if you don't tell me."
She opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Her throat refused to cooperate.
Only broken breaths escaped.
Rivan inhaled sharply, forcing himself to stay calm.
Then his gaze dropped once more to her injured feet.
Fresh blood continued to bead from the cuts.
Something inside him snapped.
His head lifted immediately.
His eyes swept across the garden again.
This time there was unmistakable fury burning within them.
His voice lost every trace of softness.
"Who did this?"
Silence.
His jaw clenched harder.
"I asked you something."
His breathing became heavier.
"Why were you running barefoot?"
Another pause.
Still no answer.
His eyes narrowed dangerously.
Then came the question that made everyone nearby hold their breath.
"...Did someone touch you?"
The words were quiet.
Too quiet.
Far more frightening than a shout.
His entire body had gone still.
Waiting.
Praying the answer would be no.
When she didn't answer immediately...
His imagination did.
His fists curled so tightly that the bandaged wound across his palm began to ache again.
A muscle ticked violently in his jaw.
His voice dropped into something cold enough to freeze the air around them.
"Tell me his name."
Every syllable carried absolute certainty.
"I don't care who he is."
"I don't care where he's hiding."
"I don't care what it costs."
"If someone made you cry like this..."
His eyes burned with terrifying resolve.
"...I'll bury him with my own hands."
"I'll make sure no one even remembers he existed."
The words weren't loud.
They didn't need to be.
Because everyone present knew Rivan Thakur never made empty threats.
He made promises.
And he fulfilled every single one of them.
Devyani stared at him through blurred vision.
For the first time...
She wasn't crying because she was afraid.
She was crying because, after two years of believing she had lost him forever...
She could still see it.
The same man who would burn the world to ashes...
Just to make sure she never had to walk barefoot through pain again.
Devyani slowly lifted her head.
Her eyelashes were wet, clinging together from endless tears. Her eyes, once so full of quiet strength, now carried nothing but heartbreak. They searched his face as though she was trying to make herself believe he was truly standing in front of her.
Her lips parted.
They trembled.
"I..."
The single syllable broke apart before it could become a sentence.
Another sob escaped her.
"I..."
She tried again.
Her throat closed.
Her breathing turned uneven once more, and she shook her head helplessly, frustrated that her own voice refused to obey her.
The memories...
The truth...
The guilt...
Everything crashed together until she couldn't separate one emotion from another.
She looked completely overwhelmed.
Completely shattered.
Rivan felt something twist painfully inside his chest.
The fury burning within him didn't disappear.
It simply stepped aside.
Because right now...
She needed comfort more than revenge.
His large hands slowly rose to cradle her face.
He held her as though she were the most delicate thing in existence.
His thumbs brushed beneath her eyes with infinite care, wiping away the tears that refused to stop falling.
"Hey..."
His voice had changed completely.
Gone was the ruthless businessman.
Gone was the feared underworld king.
There remained only a man looking at the love of his life.
"It's okay."
His forehead gently rested against hers.
"You don't have to force yourself."
Another tear escaped her.
He caught it with the pad of his thumb before it could fall.
"Breathe."
His tone was patient.
Steady.
"Just breathe with me."
He inhaled slowly.
Deliberately.
Waiting for her to follow.
She tried.
Her chest still trembled violently.
Again.
He breathed in.
Again.
This time...
She managed to match him.
One shaky breath.
Then another.
"That's my girl."
The words escaped before he could stop them.
Soft.
Affectionate.
Filled with pride over something as simple as seeing her breathe properly again.
She closed her eyes.
since leaving that abandoned house...
Her heartbeat began slowing.
Only because he was here.
Only because his hands never left her face.
Only because every word he spoke felt like an anchor pulling her back from drowning.
Without taking his eyes off her, Rivan snapped his fingers.
The sharp sound echoed through the silent garden.
A nearby servant immediately hurried forward.
"Sir?"
"Water."
His voice regained a hint of command.
"Now."
The servant practically ran.
Within moments he returned carrying a glass of chilled water with trembling hands.
Rivan accepted it with a quiet nod.
Instead of placing it into Devyani's shaking hands, he held the glass himself.
His free hand remained behind her head, supporting her gently.
"Small sips."
He tilted the glass toward her lips.
"Slowly."
She obeyed.
The cool water soothed the dryness burning her throat.
She drank a little too quickly.
He immediately pulled the glass back.
"Easy."
A faint crease appeared between his brows.
"No rushing."
He waited a few seconds before offering it again.
This time she took slower sips.
Her breathing steadied little by little.
When she finally leaned back, she looked at him again.
Her eyes immediately filled with tears.
Her whisper barely carried through the afternoon breeze.
"I..."
He could see she was trying.
Trying so desperately to tell him something.
Trying to push through the storm inside her mind.
But every attempt ended the same way.
Another broken breath.
Another tear.
Another silence.
He smiled sadly.
Not because he wasn't curious.
Because he understood.
Some pain refused to become words.
Without saying anything, he placed the glass aside.
Then he leaned forward until their foreheads touched once more.
His eyes closed.
His voice dropped to a quiet murmur only she could hear.
"Shhh..."
"You don't owe me an explanation this second."
His thumb slowly stroked her cheek.
"I'm here."
Another gentle stroke.
"And I'm not going anywhere."
His hand slid into her hair, brushing the loose strands away from her face with slow, reassuring movements.
"You've spent too long carrying everything alone."
His breathing remained calm.
Steady.
"So for today..."
"Let me carry it."
She stared at him.
A fresh stream of tears rolled silently down her cheeks.
Not because she was breaking anymore
But because someone had finally offered to hold the pieces with her.
Rivan rested a soft kiss against her forehead.
It lingered there for several quiet seconds.
Not demanding.
Not possessive.
Simply reassuring.
When he finally pulled back, he looked into her eyes with a quiet certainty that left no room for doubt.
"Whatever it is..."
"We'll face it together."
"You don't have to fight alone anymore, Kitten."
"And as long as I'm breathing..."
"No fear..."
"No person in this world..."
"...gets to touch you before they come through me."
since her world had begun collapsing around her...
Devyani believed him.
Completely.
Rivan didn't move.
He remained exactly where he was, kneeling before her, one knee pressed into the grass while the other supported her injured foot.
He became an unmoving wall between her and the rest of the world, his broad shoulders shielding her from every curious gaze.
Around them, the garden had fallen into complete silence.
No one from the family dared interrupt. Even the breeze seemed quieter, carrying only the soft rustle of the willow branches overhead and the uneven rhythm of Devyani's breathing.
She was still trembling.
Not as violently as before...
But enough for him to notice.
Enough for his heart to ache.
His gaze slowly drifted downward again.
The tiny cuts decorating her delicate feet.
The streaks of blood across her skin.
The crimson staining the marble beneath the bench.
Every single mark felt like a personal failure.
His jaw tightened.
Very carefully, he slipped one hand beneath her ankle.
"Don't move," he murmured softly.
His voice carried none of the authority the world feared.
It carried only concern.
Supporting her injured foot with one hand, he gently rested it upon his own thigh. His expensive trousers immediately absorbed the blood, staining the dark fabric, but he never even glanced at it.
It meant nothing.
Compared to her pain...
Nothing else existed.
He reached into the pocket of his coat and unfolded a pristine white silk handkerchief.
His fingers paused for a brief second before touching her skin.
As though asking permission without words.
Then...
With infinite care...
He began cleaning the blood from her foot.
Every movement was painfully gentle.
He dabbed the wound instead of wiping it, unwilling to cause her even the slightest discomfort.
His brows remained knitted together the entire time.
She watched him in silence.
The same man who negotiated billion-dollar deals without blinking...
Who terrified politicians, businessmen, and criminals alike...
Was now kneeling in the grass...
Cleaning the dust from her feet as though it were the most important responsibility of his life.
Fresh tears blurred her vision.
He noticed immediately.
Without looking up, he quietly said,