Vansh sat in the living room, a book open in his lap. To anyone passing by, he looked like a man lost in literature, but his eyes hadn't moved from the same sentence for twenty minutes. He was waiting. He was restless. But he was Vansh Rai Singhaniahe wouldn't let the world, or Riddhima, see his desperation.

The doorbell cut through the silence like a gunshot.

Vansh moved at light speed, his facade of calm vanishing as he ripped the door open. But the words he had prepared died in his throat. He took a staggering step back, his heart plunging into his stomach.

There stood Riddhima.

The flickering porch light hit her revealing a sight that made Vansh's blood run cold. Her white shirt was no longer white; it was map-stained with visceral, dark crimson. Her hands were coated in it, the blood drying into a grim, rusty brown.

Vansh slammed his eyes shut, praying it was a hallucination a trick of the shadows and his own exhausted mind. But when he opened them, the reality was even more terrifying. Panic surged through him, his negative thoughts spiraling out of control. Whose blood is this? Is she hurt? Did someone touch her? Where has she been since dawn?

"Riddhima..." his voice was a broken whisper, trembling with a fear he couldn't mask. "What... what is this?"

Riddhima didn't blink. She didn't offer a word of comfort or an explanation. She walked past him, a ghost in blood-stained silk, and headed straight for the washroom.

Vansh followed her like a shadow, pacing outside the washroom door, the sound of running water echoing the frantic beating of his heart. The second she stepped out, changed into fresh clothes but still carrying the scent of iron and rain, he cornered her.

"Where were you since this morning? Whose blood was on your clothes? Riddhima, what have you done?!"

Riddhima's head snapped up, her eyes flashing with a cold, jagged fire. "Why do you care?" she spat, her voice dripping with venom. "Stay out of my personal life, Vansh. I haven't given you the right to interfere, and I certainly haven't given you the right to interrogate me."

She brushed past him and collapsed onto the edge of the bed, closing her eyes as if to shut out the entire world.

Vansh stood frozen in the middle of the room. Her words cut deeper than any blade. She was right. He had no rights. He was a husband in name, a stranger in spirit.

He eventually lay down on his side of the bed, but sleep was miles away. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her red hands. Why does it bother me so much? Why am I losing my mind over her? he asked himself, frustrated by his own heart's betrayal.

The questions chased each other in the dark until the sun began to bleed through the curtains, When Riddhima's eyes flickered open, the other side of the bed was already empty.

The faint, rhythmic sound of splashing water echoed from the bathroom, telling her Vansh was already up. She swung her legs off the bed, stretching her tired limbs, but the moment she stood up, the bathroom door creaked open.

​Vansh stepped out, and the air in the room seemed to vanish instantly.

​He was half-naked, a low-slung white towel precariously wrapped around his waist. His upper body was bare, his skin bronzed and glistening with stray droplets of water. A single bead of water escaped his damp hair, tracing a slow, agonizing path down his forehead, over his sharp jawline, across the hollow of his throat, and finally disappearing into the sculpted valleys of his eight-pack abs. ​

He looked devastating a masterpiece of raw, masculine power that could make any woman lose her mind. And for a second, Riddhima did.

​Her jaw dropped slightly, her gaze helplessly locked onto the water trailing down his chest. Her throat went bone-dry, and she swallowed hard, her pulse hammering in her ears. She was so lost in the sight that she didn't realize Vansh had crossed the distance between them until it was too late.

​In one swift, fluid motion, Vansh's hand shot out, grabbing her waist and pulling her flush against him. Instinctively, Riddhima's palms landed on his bare, damp chest, the heat of his skin searing through her fingertips.

​Vansh tilted his head, locking his piercing green eyes into her deep black ones. His voice was a low, husky growl that vibrated against her skin.

Kahi Armaan jaag to nhi gaye pranpriye

("Enjoying the view, Pran-Piye? Or are your desires finally waking up?")

​The spell broke. Riddhima's eyes sharpened with a dangerous glint.

Tumhe dekhkar Armaan jagte nhi balki bujh jate h

(​"Looking at you doesn't ignite my desires... it extinguish them," she retorted.)

Without missing a beat, she lifted her foot and slammed it down with brutal force onto his bare toes.

​"GAH!" Vansh let go instantly, his face contorting in pain. He hopped on one foot, his hand clutching his injured toes. "You crazy woman! Are you insane?" he hissed through gritted teeth.

​Riddhima smoothed out her clothes, her expression one of pure, unbothered annoyance. "Indecent man," she muttered, rolling her eyes.

​Vansh let out a sarcastic, disbelieving laugh, clapping his hands together despite the pain. "Unbelievable! You were the one staring at me like I was a five-course meal, and I'm the indecent one?"

​Riddhima didn't even look back as she headed toward the walk-in closet. "Stop dreaming in broad daylight, Pran-Nath," she threw over her shoulder. "Get dressed. Breakfast is waiting.

Breakfast at the Singhania Mansion was unusually quiet, the heavy silence only maintained by the presence of Kishore at the head of the table. Even Mamta and Soumya kept their venom in check under his watchful gaze.

​"How is Shaili?" Kishore asked, his voice cutting through the clinking of cutlery.

​Riddhima offered a small, professional nod. "She's improving. I spoke to my mother this morning; she's doing better.

​"Good. Tell Rajeshwari I'm grateful," Kishore said, before turning his attention to the rest of the table.

​Soumya seized the moment, her eyes darting to Aditya, who was pushing his food around his plate.

"Papa ji I was thinking why doesn't Aditya start going to the office He's home all day. It's time he learned the ropes eventually, he'll have to handle his share of the empire."

​Arjun nodded in agreement. "It's a solid idea. With Vansh and Riddhima both there to guide him, he'll pick it up in no time."

​Aditya's chair screeched against the floor as he stiffened. "If my brother is there, I don't see why I need to 'learn' from anyone else," he snapped, his eyes flickering toward Riddhima with a hint of disdain. "Besides, I'm not interested in the office life."

​Vansh's grip tightened on his fork. He didn't miss the subtle jab at Riddhima's authority, but he kept his jaw locked. He wasn't going to create a scene and he never scolds Aditya infact not on his big mistakes

​"Enough," Kishore interrupted. "I have an announcement. We have a wedding to attend tonight. It's my childhood friend's granddaughter's big day, and He's invited the whole family with a lot of love. We leave this afternoon to reach by nightfall."

​"A wedding?" Vansh asked, checking his digital calendar. "Dadu, I have back-to-back meetings. I'll join you all directly at the venue."

​"Fine," Kishore agreed. Come with Riddhima he suggested

​Mamta didn't even let him finish the sentence "How can Riddhima come?" she interjected, her voice dripping with fake concern. "She's the new daughter-in-law, and she has so much 'important' work at her office. It wouldn't look right to drag her along to wedding function so soon."

​Riddhima felt the heat of the insult but met Mamta's gaze with ice in her eyes. She knew exactly what the Mamta was doing trying to exclude her from the family circle.

​"Dadi ji is right," Riddhima said, her voice smooth and devoid of emotion. "I have a crucial meeting that I cannot postpone. You all go ahead and enjoy.

​Kishore sighed, disappointed but understanding. "If it's that important, I won't force you."

​Ishita, who had been listening with a predatory gleam in her eyes, suddenly leaned toward Vansh. "Vansh ji since you're coming later, should I pack your things in my bag? I'll keep your essentials... and maybe some headache tablets? I know you need them after wedding

​Vansh glanced at her, then back to his coffee. "Sure. Do that. Thanks."

A triumphant smile spread across Ishita's face. She was going to the wedding with Vansh's belongings in her care, while Riddhima was staying behind in an empty house. For Ishita, the things was finally moving in her favor.

Vansh drove off to office but Riddhima drove off to Nitya's home

The moment the door opened, Nitya's face lit up. She pulled Riddhima into a desperate, crushing hug, as if clinging to a lifeline.

"Riddhima! I've missed you so much," Nitya chirped, guiding her to the sofa with a forced energy. "How are you? Is everything okay at the mansion? How is Shaili?"

Riddhima sat down, her eyes scanning her friend's face. "Shaili is recovering. Everything is fine. But what about you? Where have you been? Your phone has been switched off for days I've been worried sick!"

As Nitya reached for a glass of water, the sleeve of her tunic slipped. Riddhima's breath hitched. There, on Nitya's elbow, was a jagged red mark. Riddhima's hand shot out, grabbing Nitya's arm with clinical precision.

"Nitya... how did this happen?

Nitya stared at the mark for a heartbeat too long, her brain scrambling for a lie. "Oh, that? I... I slipped in the washroom. I was in such a rush to get ready for a date with Dhruv ji. I was so excited, I just lost my footing. I broke my phone in the fall, too. Dhruv ji said he'd get me a new one in a day or two, but he's just been so busy with work. You know how it is."

Riddhima sighed, her heart aching. "Nitya, why don't you take better care of yourself?"

"I do, Riddhima. Really. These things just happen," Nitya whispered, her smile wavering. But as she looked away, her mind drifted back

"Who were you calling?!" Dhruv's voice had roared through the bedroom like a thunderclap.

Before Nitya could answer, he had lunged, his fingers digging into her arm like talons. "Was it your lover, Kartik? Planning your escape, were you? I know everything! That's why you keep running to Riddhima. That's why you went to the jail that day to meet him, didn't you? Did he drop you back here? Did you go to a hotel with him?"

"Dhruv ji please

He didn't listen. He slammed her head against the cold, hard wall, his hand crushing her skull against the concrete. "Tell me the truth! Is that why you were smiling at the servants this morning? You characterless woman! Girls from small houses like yours are never satisfied with one man, are they? You need a crowd to stare at you!"

Nitya's vision blurred with pain and tears.

"What haven't I given you?" he hissed, his face inches from hers, his breath smelling of bile. "You live like a queen! I could have five wives if I wanted. I left my first wife and child for you, and this is the curse I get? A disloyal, disgusting woman?"

He stepped back, his eyes cold and dark. "Wait. Let me fix that brain of yours."

Nitya's blood ran cold as she heard the metallic clink of his belt buckle. He ripped the leather from his waist, the sound of the strap hitting the air echoing like a whip. He began to strike her-mercilessly, rhythmically until his own arms grew tired.

Before storming out, he picked up her phone and shattered it against the floor, grinding the screen under his heel.

Nitya lay there on the cold floor, a broken, lifeless heap. She didn't even try to defend herself. She had stopped explaining a long time ago. This wasn't the first time he had branded her with his belt, and she knew, with a soul-crushing certainty, it wouldn't be the last.

"Where did you go lostnow?" Riddhima asked, her hand resting gently on Nitya's shoulder.

Nitya snapped out of the dark, jagged cage of her memories. She forced a hollow smile. "Nowhere. I'm right here, listening to every word." She took a breath, trying to sound normal. "You know, Riddhima, maybe you should take a break from the office for a few days. You're a new bride. You need to spend quality time with Vansh and your in-laws. Relationships take sacrifice, yaar."

Riddhima arched a perfectly groomed eyebrow. "Sacrifice? If I stop going to the office, I'll end up on the streets. My office is my everything Nitya. You have no idea how I am running this office by collecting brick by brick, penny by penny. You don't know my pain.

Nitya let out a small laugh, swatting the air. "Oh, shut up, you drama queen!"

For a moment, the heavy air cleared as they both laughed. But the peace was short-lived. Riddhima's phone buzzed-it was a call from the office. Leaving Nitya with a quick hug, she rushed back to work. Since Vansh was headed to the wedding, she figured she'd wrap up early. By afternoon, she was back at the Singhania Mansion.

But the silence that met her was chilling.

The massive house was a tomb. No security at the gate. No staff in the halls. Riddhima called the head of staff, only to find out that Mamta had dismissed everyone for the night.

Riddhima took a long, weary breath. She knew exactly what this was: a petty, calculated move by Mamta to make her suffer "Fine," she muttered, heading upstairs. She threw herself into her work, her eyes eventually fluttering shut as exhaustion claimed her.

When Riddhima woke up, the room was draped in the shadows of 8:00 PM. Her stomach let out a sharp, painful growl. She hurried downstairs, but the kitchen was a desert. No staff, no prepared meals just a bowl of fruit. And if there was one thing Riddhima hated more than Vansh, it was eating fruit

She pulled out her phone to order in. "I'd like to place an order for delivery..."

"Sorry, ma'am, we aren't delivering. Haven't you seen the news?"

Riddhima clicked on the TV. The headlines were screaming in red: CITY UNDER CURFEW. RIOTS BREAK OUT. TOTAL LOCKDOWN. Police were stationed at every corner. Nothing was moving.

She immediately dialed Madhav. "Is the city really under lockdown?"

"Yes, ma'am. It's bad." Madhav replied "actually I was hungry and there is no staff in the house riddhima said

Madhav's voice laced with worry I'll try to get past the barricades and bring you something."

"No, Madhav, don't," Riddhima said, "It's too bad outsideDon't risk it. The fridge is full, I'll be fine."

"Are you sure, ma'am?"

"I'm sure. Goodnight, Madhav." She hung up, a lie taste in her mouth.

She started watching tv to distrac herself from the hunger but her mind was not on the TV because her stomach was paining because of hunger

So she decided and She stared at the stove. I can run a multi-million dollar company, she thought defiantly. Why can't I cook a simple meal?

She pulled up Many YouTube recipe and finally she find a 'Easy Aloo Paratha recipe after seeing aloo ke paratha in recipe she decided she will cook this for dinner and She watched it twice, nodding confidently. "Left-handed play," she smirked. "I'll make parathas so good I'll be licking my own fingers."

She boiled the potatoes and mashed them into a decent batter. Then came the ultimate boss fight: The Dough.

Riddhima had no concept of measurements. She dumped a pile of flour into a bowl and drowned it in water. As she began to knead, she realized her mistake. The flour wasn't becoming a ball it was swimming. A thick, sticky white soup of dough was swirling around the bowl, mocking her.

She tried to fix it, adding more flour, then more water, until she was fighting a losing battle. The sticky paste was everywhere smeared across her forehead, coating her fingers like cement, and splattered onto her expensive clothes.

Exhausted, defeated, and still starving, Riddhima gave up. She slumped down onto the kitchen floor, leaning against the cold counter. She didn't have the energy to clean up. Instead, she picked up the bowl of mashed potato filling-the only thing she hadn't ruined and started eating it with her bare, flour-caked hands.

"I give up the cooking is not my thing I don't know how people are master chef I do everything as the video says but still I am eating this mess Aloo instead of tasty aloo ke paratha she whispered to the empty kitchen.

Suddenly, a loud, sharp KNOCK echoed from the front door.

Riddhima froze. Her heart hammered against her ribs. There was no security. No staff. The city was in a riot-fueled lockdown. And here she was covered in flour, exhausted, she checked the time and It was midnight

Who could it be at this hour?" she whispered to the empty, flour-dusted kitchen."I'm so exhausted from this... this cooking nightmare that I don't even have the strength left to throw a punch," she muttered, her eyes darting to the kitchen .

"I can't even remember my karate forms right now. My legs feel like lead."

And the knock came again louder

BANG .BANG.BANG

Riddhima forced her leaden legs to move, each step feeling like a mile. She reached into the corner of the hallway and gripped a heavy wooden stick

She leaned her ear against the cold mahogany of the front door

"Who is it? Who's there?"

───•~❉᯽❉~•───

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