Chapter Forty Five
Aansh's POV;
The car stopped at the Rathore mansion, and I stared out the tinted window like I was looking at a battlefield I had no interest in fighting on.
The entire estate was drowning in decorations-marigolds hanging from every surface, diyas lining the pathways, white fabric draped everywhere in preparation for the color that would soon destroy it.
People moved in and out like ants at a picnic, their laughter and excitement creating a noise that made my head pound.
I hated festivals.
Hated the crowdness, the meaningless rituals, the way distant relatives pretended to care. It was all performance. All superficial bullshit.
I wanted to tell the driver to turn around. Head back to the airport. Disappear to London or New York or anywhere that wasn't here.
But Dadaji had commanded my presence.
And when he spoke an order, even I-despite everything I'd built, all the power I wielded-had no choice but to obey.
Fuck.
I stepped out of the car, my expression already set in stone. The moment my foot touched the ground of the mansion, I was swarmed-guards straightening, staff rushing forward with unnecessary greetings, distant relatives I barely remembered appearing with wide smiles and grasping hands.
I nodded curtly, my responses clipped and automatic as I made my way toward the garden. Every interaction felt like an intrusion, every touch an irritation against my skin.
"BHAI!"
Ishita's scream cut through everything, and despite the darkness churning in my chest, I felt something ease.
She came running toward me, her lehenga flying behind her, her face lit with pure joy. When she crashed into me, I caught her easily, wrapping my arms around her small frame.
"Princess, how are you?" I said, my voice actually softening.
"I'm fine, bhai! I missed you so much!" She squeezed me tight.
"I missed you more, princess." I kissed her forehead, meaning every word.
Ishita and Kritika were my whole world. My whole world revolved around them and anyone who hurts my family would definitely meet who I truly am.
She grabbed my hand, practically bouncing.
"Come! Everyone's waiting!"
She dragged me deeper into the garden where the family had gathered. The chaos intensified, but before it could overwhelm me-
"Bro! Finally!" Aavyan appeared, grinning wide as he pulled me into a proper hug.
"Aavyan," I said, and found myself actually returning it. "How've you been?" I had tolerated the hug for 2 seconds before pulling away.
"Better now that you're back. Someone needs to keep these celebrations from turning into complete madness."
"Bhai! Bhai!" Rahul and Kiaan came running, sliding to a stop in front of me with matching expressions of excitement.
"Where's our gift?" they demanded in unison.
I raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think I brought you anything?"
Their faces fell so dramatically I almost laughed.
"I'm kidding," I said, ruffling both their heads-gently this time. "Your gifts are in my luggage. But Ishita and Kritika get to open theirs first."
"YES!" The girls squealed, already rushing toward my bags.
"That's not fair!" Rahul protested.
"Life isn't fair, Rahul. Get used to it," I said.
These were my siblings, my cousins-the few people whose presence I actually tolerated. Even enjoyed, though I'd never admit it out loud.
My grandfather sat in his usual chair, surveying us with satisfaction. I walked over, bending to touch his feet.
"Be blessed, dear," he said, his warm hands pulling me into a brief embrace. His grip was still strong, his eyes still sharp.
"How are you, Dadaji?" I asked.
"Better now that my grandson has finally come home." His gaze studied me with that unnerving perception that always made me feel exposed.
"Though you look tired, beta."
"I'm fine," I said automatically.
He didn't look convinced, but he let it go.
I moved to greet my uncle and aunt-my father's brother and his wife. Unlike my parents, they'd always treated me with straightforward affection, no hidden agendas or unspoken disappointments.
"Aansh, welcome home," my uncle said warmly, pulling me into a hug.
"It's good to see you, beta," my aunt added, her smile genuine as she pressed a hand to my cheek. "You've been working too hard. I can see it in your eyes."
"I'm alright, chachi," I assured her.
Then I felt their eyes on me.
My parents stood near Dadaji, watching me with expressions I'd long stopped trying to decipher.
My mother looked like she wanted to say something, her mouth opening, her hand lifting slightly toward me.
"Beta, I-"
I turned away before she could finish, the movement deliberate and cold.
"Aansh." My father's voice held warning.
But I was already walking. "I need to freshen up," I said to no one in particular, my tone leaving no room for argument.
I could feel their stares burning into my back, the weight of words left unsaid hanging in the air. But I didn't care. Whatever they wanted to say, whatever guilt or obligation they wanted to burden me with-I was done with it.
Had been done with it for years.
The moment I stepped into my room, the scent hit me.
Lavender.
I stopped dead, every muscle in my body going rigid. My hands clenched into fists at my sides, my jaw locking so tight I felt my teeth grind.
That scent. Soft, delicate, maddeningly familiar.
Ria.
The name echoed in my head like a curse I couldn't shake.
I stepped further into the room, my eyes scanning every corner with predatory focus. She wasn't here-the room was empty. But her presence lingered everywhere.
Cosmetics arranged on the dresser. A book left open on the nightstand. A dupatta thrown carelessly over a chair. Small, intimate evidence that she'd existed in this space.
In my space.
Something twisted violently in my chest-anger, regret, frustration. I couldn't name it, didn't want to.
But I hadn't expected her.
Hadn't expected Ria to be... Ria.
Beautiful, yes. But also genuine in a way that unsettled me.
And that kiss-that one moment of weakness where I'd let myself taste what I had no right to want-had ruined everything.
So I'd sent her away while I fled to the UK, burying myself in work, in deals, in anything that would let me forget the way she'd looked at me after.
Hurt. Confused. And somehow still hopeful.
It had been easier to run than to face what that kiss meant. What she meant.
Fuck.
I stripped off my clothes and stepped into the shower, cranking the water as hot as it would go. It scalded my skin, but I welcomed the burn.
Needed it to wash away the tension coiling through every muscle, the frustration that had been building in my muscles.
After what felt like an eternity, I stepped out and stood in front of the mirror.
Water dripped down my hair as got ready with precision. Her scent distracting my senses.
Get it together.
I dressed in a white kurta and matching pants. I preferred my suits rather than traditional wear.
But Dadaji's rules were absolute. In this house, during his celebrations, even I had to bend.
I ran my hands through my damp hair, slicking it back, and left the room before the lingering scent of lavender could drive me insane.
The corridor was slightly quieter, though music and laughter still echoed through the mansion.
I was halfway back to the garden when-
"Aansh!"
Some woman approached me, her face vaguely familiar but completely irrelevant.
She was smiling too wide, her hand extended.
"Hi, how are you?"
I looked at her hand, then her face. My expression remained completely neutral. Cold.
"Who are you?" My tone was flat, dismissive.
Her smile faltered. "Come on, Aansh, I'm your-"
I walked away before she could finish, not even curious enough to hear whatever connection she was about to claim.
Cousin? Family friend? Business associate? It didn't matter. If I didn't care to remember, she wasn't worth my time.
I made it back to the garden, immediately getting cornered by some business associates. They launched into discussions about markets and potential deals, and I engaged mechanically, my responses sharp and efficient even as irritation crawled under my skin.
This celebration was torture. Every second of forced social interaction, every meaningless conversation-
"Ria!"
The name cut through everything like a knife.
My conversation died mid-sentence. Every muscle in my body locked.
My eyes immediately began scanning the crowd with laser focus, hunting for the source.
And then I found her.
Time fucking stopped.
Ria stood near the fountain, talking with Avantika and a small group of women.
She was wearing a pristine white saree-untouched by color yet, gleaming in the afternoon sun like something pure and untouchable.
The fabric draped over her body in a way that made my mouth go dry, hugging curves I had no business noticing, no right to want.
Her long hair fell in loose curls down her back, and even from this distance, I could see the delicate makeup that enhanced features already burned into my memory.
I have never seen her wear a saree and fuck, it suited her perfectly.
But it wasn't just that she was beautiful.
It was the confidence.
The way she stood-taller somehow, more assured. The way she laughed at something one of the women said, the sound carrying across the courtyard and hitting me square in the chest.
The way she moved through the space like she belonged.
One of the women whispered something and Ria smiled-genuine, radiant, free-and I felt that smile like a punch to the gut.
My entire body clenched. Heat flooded through me, pooling low and dangerous. My hands curled into fists. Every predatory instinct I'd spent years controlling roared to life.
She looked... perfect. I couldn't tear my eyes from. Fuck, i wanted near me.
And I fucking hated it.
Hated that she was standing there, surrounded by people, and hadn't even glanced in my direction.
Like I didn't exist.
"Don't drool, bhai."
Aavyan's amused voice cut through the haze consuming me. He was standing at my elbow, grinning like he found my reaction hilarious.
"She's your wife, after all," he continued, his tone teasing. "Come on, you'll have her all to yourself later. No need to devour her with your eyes in front of the entire family."
I didn't respond. Couldn't. Because every sense I possessed was still locked on Ria-the way she moved, the way she laughed, the way she existed in a space I wasn't occupying.
My breathing became heavier, I swallowed hard. Fuck, her smile, that dangerously beautiful smile made me clench.
I needed her, she was slowly corrupting every sense I had.