chapter Five
Author's POV
The Rathore mansion stood like a fortress at twilight - silent, proud, untouched by time. But somewhere inside that fortress, history was shifting.
Pratap Rathore stood by the massive window of his study, a file in his hand and a thousand thoughts in his mind. The thick dossier, placed with precision before him by his most trusted aide, contained every detail he had asked for - the life of Ria Malhotra unfolded in ink and paper.
Her background was humble:
Father, a respected government employee.
Mother, a homemaker with deep family values.
Brother, a finance manager in Bangalore.
Ria: twenty years old, pursuing education, dreams of becoming a teacher.
But what moved him most wasn't in the report. It was a simple picture - taken discreetly. Ria, seated on the floor of a dilapidated orphanage, her hands stained with paint, smiling at a child who had just drawn his first flower.
There was something about her... a warmth, an innocence, and yet, a strength.
> "She doesn't belong in our world," he murmured, voice low.
"And yet... she might be the only one who can save him from it."
With decision sealed in stone, Pratap descended the grand staircase. His cane echoed against marble, each step a declaration. The household staff stood still - they knew that sound. That walk. That silence.
In the living room, he summoned the elders.
Devraj and Gayatri arrived first, followed by Vikram and Damini.
They all sat, uncertain.
Then Pratap spoke.
> "I've chosen a girl. For Aansh."
The bomb dropped. And the aftermath followed.
> "You what?" Gayatri choked.
Devraj stood abruptly. "Father, this isn't your decision to make alone anymore-"
"It is, if it concerns this family's future," Pratap interrupted sharply. "And Aansh is the future."
> "Who is she?" Damini asked, already biting down a snarl.
> "Her name is Ria Malhotra. Lives in Shivajinagar. Middle-class. Bright. Strong-minded. Kind-hearted."
Gayatri practically flinched at the word middle-class. "So you want to taint our bloodline with a girl who probably dreams of gold jewelry and palace life?"
Pratap's eyes sharpened. "That girl is the only one who can make Aansh Rathore a human."
Vikram scoffed. "This is madness, Bauji. Heir to the Rathore legacy marrying a commoner? What will society say?"
"Let society burn," Pratap thundered, standing up.
"We are not ruled by society. We rule it."
The silence that followed was thick. Final.
And yet... someone stood at the hallway's edge. Hidden in shadow, eyes burning with quiet fury. A silhouette - rigid, breath steady, expression unreadable.
They watched Pratap declare war against generations of pride, power, and hierarchy - and they did not approve.
Not one bit.
---
Ria's POV
The sun dipped lazily into the horizon as Ria walked home, her bag slightly heavy but her heart light.
She had just finished another afternoon at Shanti Kunj Orphanage, her second home. The chaos, the crayons, the mischief - she loved it all.
But today, as she passed the old mango tree near the gate, she smiled to herself, remembering her first day there.
---
It had been a hot afternoon.
She was nervous, her palms sweating as she walked into the orphanage for the first time, a stack of books pressed to her chest.
Most girls her age were out shopping or taking selfies in cafés, but Ria had chosen this. On her own.
"Kids scare me," Siya had said back then, laughing.
"I love them," Ria had replied. "They just need someone to listen."
The first child she met was Maya, a shy five-year-old who hid behind a broken plastic chair. It took Ria ten minutes, a lollipop, and a hand-drawn elephant to make her laugh.
By the end of the hour, she had ten children clinging to her dupatta, one asleep on her lap.
That night, when she went home, she told her mom:
> "Maa, i volunteered at an orphanage and i cant wait to teach them."
---
Today, she smiled at that memory. The feeling was still the same.
Pure. Unfiltered. Right.
She reached home and pushed open the door, her voice bright.
"Ma, I'm home-"
But her words trailed off as she saw her mother bustling in the kitchen, while her father and Arjun bhaiya sat in the living room, laughing over something on the phone.
"Papa? Bhaiya?" she said, surprised.
"You're back from Kolkata?"
Arjun stood up, arms wide. "Little angel! Did you miss me?"
Ria laughed and ran into his arms, the room filling with chatter and warmth.
Everything in her world was still soft, normal, and safe.
But far across the city, in a mansion built on blood and dominance, her name had become the seed of rebellion.
And someone... someone had already decided:
"If she steps into our world, I will destroy her."