Chapter seven
Author's POV
The bells of the temple rang gently as Pandit Bhattacharya, an old and respected priest, made his way through the quiet, sunny streets of Shivajinagar. He clutched a simple folder under his arm - one that held within it a proposal from a kingdom.
A proposal from Pratap Rathore.
The priest's heart was steady but respectful - he had seen power, lived among fearsome families, but the Rathores were different. Not just powerful. Untouchable.
And yet, today, he was walking to middle class household. A family of warmth and simplicity.
He reached the door and rang the bell.
Inside, Anjali Malhotra opened the door, her dupatta pulled up properly over her shoulder. She smiled kindly.
"Yes, Panditji? Come in."
The priest went inside and took a sit.
"Namaste, beti. I've come with a rishta - a marriage proposal. For your daughter."
Anjali blinked. "A proposal? For Ria?"
Just then, Anil Malhotra came from the other room, wiping his hands.
"Namaste Panditji,she's still studying, Panditji. She's not even finished college yet. Marriage is out of the question right now."
"Please, just hear who-"
"No Panditji," Anil interrupted politely but firmly. "We're sorry. She's too young. Please tell the family that we're grateful for their interest but not interested in any marriage proposal at this time."
Pandit Bhattacharya pressed his lips into a thin smile. He had faced many rejections, but never one this blind - one that didn't even ask which family had sent the rishta.
"Very well," he said quietly. "May Lord Shiva guide her path."
And with that, he left the home and returned to his car.
---
Meanwhile... at Rathore City Hospital
Inside a luxurious, private chamber, Pratap Rathore sat upright on a crisp king sized hospital bed. He had just finished a full body check-up. His blood pressure was a little high. His heart... weaker than it used to be.
Sitting beside him was none other than Aansh Rathore, arms folded, black shirt sleeves rolled up, his expression brooding.
He didn't want to be here.
He never wanted to be here.
But even the devil visits temples for the people he cares about.
Aansh watched silently as the doctor finished up.
"We'll send in the reports this evening, sir," the doctor said, bowing respectfully before leaving.
Pratap leaned back with a sigh.
Aansh remained seated - distant but watching.
Suddenly, Pratap's phone buzzed.
He answered, listened, and for a moment, something changed in his eyes. The life drained just slightly.
His hand lowered the phone slowly to his lap.
Aansh saw it - the silence, the disappointment, the emotion.
"What happened, Dadaji?"
Pratap tried to smile, but it was hollow.
"The girl's family... rejected the proposal."
Aansh tilted his head.
"What girl?"
Pratap didn't answer immediately. He looked out the window, eyes clouded.
"I had hope," he said softly. "Hope that maybe, once in my life, I'd see you married. That there'd be a woman in your life who'd walk beside you, not behind you. That I'd get to hold my daughter-in-law's hand and bless her before I leave this world."
"But they didn't even care to ask who we are."
Aansh didn't blink.
Pratap smiled faintly, more to himself.
"I've given you everything, Aansh. Power. Freedom. Space. I never forced you into the world I was raised in."
He looked at his grandson.
"And I asked for only one thing: a grand daughter-in-law. One girl to bring light into this family before I close my eyes."
"But it's alright..." Pratap said, with a trace of pain. "Hope is meant to be broken."
---
Aansh stood slowly.
His shadow fell over the floor like a blade drawn from its sheath.
His voice was low, heavy.
"Dadaji... I'm not the kind of man who wears wedding rings and touches feet."
"I destroy people. I control people. I bend the world to my will."
He turned toward the door.
> "This marriage you want so bad?" He paused.
"Fine. I'll bring her. You'll get your daughter-in-law. But, you shouldn't expect anything from this marriage."
His voice dipped into something cruel.
"Don't ask for smiles. Or love. Or warmth. I don't offer any of that."
He stepped forward, pushing the door open.
Pratap called softly behind him.
"Her name is Ria. Ria Malhotra. And please..."
A pause. A pleading whisper.
"Whatever is going on in your mind, don't hurt her, Aansh. She is someone's daughter."
Aansh froze at the threshold.
For a second - just one second - the name lingered in the air.
Ria.
A storm sparked behind his eyes.
And then - SLAM.
He was gone.
---
Outside
The black SUV pulled up at the hospital exit.
Aansh walked to it, eyes fixed ahead.
"Take Dadaji home," he told the driver without looking back.
He slid into his own car, silence like poison in the air.
He pulled out his phone, dialed a number.
It rang once.
"Yes, Sir?" came a voice.
Aansh's tone was icy.
"Get Ria Malhotra to the warehouse. I don't care how. I want her there in one hour."
A pause.
"Sir... should we use-"
"I said I don't care," Aansh snapped. "I want her before sunset."
The line went dead.
And with it - Ria's world was about to burn.
---
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