Chapter 14 #2
"Poorvi," Aryan said softly, trying to inject genuine remorse into his voice.
"I am so sorry, sweetheart. I know I hurt you.
Leaving you in that bridal room was the biggest mistake of my life.
I was a fool. But I am here now. I am ready to be the husband you deserve.
We can forget all this drama, go on our honeymoon, and start fresh. I want my wife back."
A heavy, suffocating silence fell over the grand foyer.
Nandini sniffled, looking hopefully at Poorvanshi. Raghav held his breath. Even the security guards seemed to freeze in slow-motion, waiting to see what would happen next.
Poorvanshi felt a massive wave of pure, unfiltered nausea roll through her stomach.
Looking at Aryan, she didn't feel sadness.
She didn't feel the sting of rejection. She only felt absolute, overwhelming disgust. She remembered the secret conversation she had overheard in the West Wing.
She remembered how Aryan had used her sick father's life savings to cover his tracks.
He didn't want a wife, he wanted a human shield.
Siddhant felt Poorvanshi’s hand tighten in his. He stepped forward, preparing to verbally and physically tear his brother apart for even daring to speak her name.
But Poorvanshi gently squeezed Siddhant’s hand, signaling him to stop.
She let go of Siddhant’s hand and took a slow, deliberate step forward, moving out from behind his protective shadow.
She stood in the center of the cinematic light pouring from the chandeliers. She was wearing a simple ivory kurta, but she looked more regal, more intimidating, and more untouchable than anyone else in the room.
Aryan smiled, opening his arms slightly, fully expecting her to run to him.
Poorvanshi did not look at his face. She completely refused to make eye contact with him. Instead, she fixed her gaze on the wall just past his shoulder, treating him with the absolute, freezing indifference of someone looking at a piece of garbage on the floor.
"You are mistaken, Aryan," Poorvanshi said. Her voice was not loud, but the pure, icy clarity of her tone cut through the massive room with devastating precision.
Aryan’s smile faltered. He lowered his arms slightly. "Poorvi, come on. Don't be like this. I said I was sorry."
"Do not call me Poorvi," she snapped, her sharp tongue acting faster than a whip. "And do not stand in this house and pretend that your cowardly escape was a case of 'cold feet'. We both know exactly what you are, and we both know exactly why you ran away."
Raghav and Nandini both flinched violently at her words, terror flashing in their eyes. They thought Poorvanshi was going to expose the embezzlement right then and there.
But Poorvanshi was a strategist. She was not going to drop the bomb until she and Siddhant had absolute, undeniable proof. For now, she was solely focused on destroying Aryan's pathetic illusion of control.
"You walked out on a promise. You humiliated my father. You dragged my family’s name through the mud because you are a weak, spoiled, pathetic little boy who cannot handle his own responsibilities," Poorvanshi continued, her voice rising with fierce, passionate authority.
"I would rather walk barefoot over broken glass than acknowledge your existence for another second. "
Aryan’s face turned bright red with sudden, ugly anger. His charming mask completely slipped away, revealing the nasty, entitled brat hiding underneath.
"Listen to me, you arrogant little, " Aryan snarled, taking an aggressive, fast step towards her. He raised his hand, intending to grab her arm.
He never made it.
Siddhant moved with the terrifying, explosive speed of a striking cobra. The movement was a complete blur. One second Siddhant was standing still, and the next second, he was directly in front of Poorvanshi.
Siddhant’s large hand shot out and clamped around Aryan’s throat with brutal, unstoppable force.
The impact physically lifted Aryan off his feet, slamming him backward into the heavy wooden doors with a sickening thud.
Nandini screamed in absolute terror. "Siddhant! Stop it! You are killing him!"
Siddhant completely ignored his stepmother. His clean-shaven jaw was locked so tight the muscles twitched visibly. His dark, obsidian eyes were blazing with a raw, murderous fire that Poorvanshi had only seen once before, when Viraj Khanna had tried to touch her.
Siddhant pinned his brother against the wood, his grip on Aryan’s throat entirely merciless. Aryan was choking, his hands frantically clawing at Siddhant’s iron grip, his feet dangling inches above the marble floor.
"I warned you," Siddhant whispered. His voice was a deadly, vibrating rumble that shook the very foundation of the room.
It was not a threat, it was a terrifying, absolute promise.
"If you ever raise your hand towards her again, if you ever take an aggressive step in her direction, I will not just break your arm, Aryan.
I will snap your neck, and I will not lose a single second of sleep over it. "