Rakshit stood outside the door to his and Drishti's room, his hand on the doorknob. The silence of the mansion was almost oppressive, thick with the tension that had built up between them. He slowly opened the door, and his eyes immediately fell on Drishti, lying on the bed with her back turned toward him. Her figure was still, as if she was already asleep-or pretending to be.

He stepped into the room cautiously, moving to close the door quietly, but just as it was about to shut completely, he paused. A bitter thought crossed his mind, and he couldn't resist the urge to disrupt whatever peace she might have found. With a sudden jerk, he slammed the door shut with a loud bang, the sound reverberating through the room.

Drishti shot up in bed, startled. She turned to face him, her eyes wide and her expression a mix of fear and irritation.

"Oh, you were sleeping?" Rakshit's voice dripped with mockery, his eyes narrowing as he took in her startled reaction. "I woke you up, didn't I?"

Drishti shook her head quickly, trying to regain her composure. "No, I was just lying down."

Rakshit smirked, his eyes glinting with malicious satisfaction. "Well, let me tell you, Mrs. Shergill, I thoroughly enjoyed ruining your peaceful rest."

He approached the bed with slow, deliberate steps, his gaze never leaving hers. Standing at the edge of the bed, he looked down at her, the air between them charged with unspoken animosity. Without another word, he abruptly lay down beside her, not bothering to remove his shoes, his presence imposing and unyielding.

Drishti shifted nervously, her eyes darting between his face and the bed. "W-what are you doing, sir?" Her voice was shaky, betraying her unease.

Rakshit didn't answer immediately. He got up, still sitting on the bed, and turned his intense gaze on her, making her feel like a trapped animal. "What do people usually do at night, Mrs. Shergill?" he asked, his tone laced with condescension. "They sleep. That's what I'm doing. Sleeping. And those people are very fortunate who have a bed to sleep on."

He lay down again, this time making a show of stretching out on the bed as if he belonged there-because now, by every legal and societal standard, he did. Drishti could barely suppress her growing discomfort.

"No, I mean... you can't sleep here like this..." she stammered, trying to keep her voice steady.

Rakshit sat up again, his eyes locking onto hers with a dangerous glint. "Oh, right!" he said, feigning realization. "I'm such an idiot. This isn't how we should be sleeping!"

Drishti sighed in relief, thinking that he might finally understand her discomfort. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, mentally thanking god.

But when she opened her eyes, her relief turned to horror as she saw Rakshit standing beside the bed, removing his sherwani and then his kurta, leaving him shirtless. His muscles flexed under the dim light, and she couldn't help but stare, her heart racing with panic.

"S-sir, what are you doing? Don't-oh my-s-sir, don't do this!" she exclaimed, her voice rising in pitch as her nervousness spiked.

Rakshit, now only in his lower dress, ignored her protests and lay back down on the bed. "This," he said nonchalantly, "is how I sleep."

Drishti was still sitting up, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and confusion. "S-sir, what are you..."

"I'm sleeping." he interrupted, his tone dismissive. "This is how I sleep. And you?"

Drishti blinked, trying to comprehend his words. "What?" she finally managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper.

Rakshit remained still, his gaze hardening. "What are you still doing on this bed, Mrs. Shergill?" He leaned in closer, his face just inches from hers, his right hand braced on the bed beside her while his left held the pillow he had claimed as his own. Drishti couldn't move, her breath caught in her throat as he loomed over her, his eyes boring into hers.

She swallowed hard, her mind racing as she tried to find a way out of this situation. Rakshit's voice was low and menacing as he continued, "We're married now. We share the same name, the same bed."

Drishti's heart pounded in her chest. "Sir... you're staring at me..."

Rakshit's lips curled into a dangerous smile. "And you're staring at me too, Mrs. Shergill." He retorted, his voice a rough whisper. He moved his face even closer to hers, and she flinched, leaning back as far as she could.

"You can't say anything now, even if I stare at you."

She shook her head quickly, her words tumbling out in a panic. "No, no, I'm not-I wasn't-"

But he cut her off, his voice firm and unyielding. "You were. And you still are!" He leaned in again, this time with deliberate speed, and she recoiled, pressing herself against the headboard. His breath was hot against her skin as he whispered, "Now you have the official license to stare at me, Mrs. Shergill. You should've thought about all this before pulling off that little stunt and marrying me."

Drishti was trembling now, her eyes wide with fear. Rakshit's words were like a punch to her gut, each one driving home the reality of what she had done. He was right-she had chosen this path, and now she had to face the consequences. But that didn't make it any less terrifying.

"Sleep on the bed, with me beside you." Rakshit ordered, his voice low and dangerous. He emphasized the words "with me beside you" making it clear that she had no choice in the matter.

Drishti's fear turned to defiance as she made a sudden decision. She scrambled off the bed, standing up and facing him with a mixture of anger and determination. "No, I won't sleep here!" she declared, her voice stronger now.

Rakshit's eyes narrowed as he watched her, and then, with a slow, satisfied smile, he said, "Good choice." He lay down on the bed himself, stretching out as if he owned the entire space.

Drishti backed away, her heart still racing. She laid down on the sofa kept at the opposite side of the bed. She knew she couldn't sleep, not after everything that had happened. She couldn't calm her thoughts; they were too loud, too overwhelming. It was well past 3 a.m., and while Rakshit seemed to be asleep, she couldn't find any peace.

But then, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a shadow moving near their room door. Her breath caught in her throat, and she turned to follow it, her curiosity piqued. She moved cautiously, trying not to make a sound, but as she stepped out of the room, her foot accidentally knocked over a metallic watch on the floor, creating a loud clattering noise.

She winced at the sound, glancing back to see if Rakshit had woken up. But he remained still, seemingly undisturbed. Drishti pushed forward, determined to figure out what she had seen. The hallway was empty, and the mansion was eerily quiet, but she was certain she had seen someone.

As she moved through the dimly lit corridors, she caught sight of Akshit, sitting in a chair with his headphones on, his eyes closed as he listened to music. She hesitated, wondering if she should ask him if he had seen anyone. But something stopped her-she didn't want to involve him in her suspicions. Still, she approached him, her voice quiet as she said, "Akshit?"

Akshit opened his eyes, surprised to see her. "Bhabhi? What are you doing up at this hour?"

Yes, Akshit knew everything. When Rakshit stormed out of the room, he met Akshit holding a packet of chips and a bottle of cold drink.

Flashback

"Damn bhai, where are you going? Why so angry?"

Rakshit sighed as he sat near the pool with his brother, his mind occupied with a million thoughts, questions which needed answers.

He explained it all to Akshit who lost his last 2 brain cells hearing it all.

"Wah! Yeh toh books wala scene hogya!" He shouted, excited. But his voice dropped when he noticed the glare coming at his way.

"Oops sorry bro! You know I get excited, hehe. Anyways, continue your love story, I-I mean your sad story."

Rakshit continued, confessing he didn't felt like returning to his room, not when the woman he hated from the core of his heart was there, as his wife.

"I'm damn tired..." Rakshit spoke, closing his eyes.

"Maine bola tha shaadi mtlb barbaadi, aur mt suno meri baat."
(I told you marriage means self destruction, ignore my words and this is what happens)

"Tu chup rhega ya mai tere daant tod du?" (Will you shut up or should I break your teeth?) Rakshit said, his glare never leaving Akshit's face.

"Ahem so as I was saying, It won't be good, bhai. Why aren't you going into the room?"

"I hate her."

"Bhai tu thoda sa bkl hai kya?" Akshit asked, frustrated.

"Kya?!" Rakshit spoke, ready to strangle him.

"I-I meant just keep your hatred aside. She's your wife at the end, you'll leave her alone?"

"Probably." He replied, deep in thoughts.

"Suhagraat toh mana lete!" Akshit kept both of his hands on his mouth as soon as those words left his mouth, realizing he said his thoughts out loud.

Rakshit glared at him, his fist ready to break his goddamn nose.

"A-ah d-don't stare at me! Stare at your beautiful wife! Go!" He ran from there, not forgetting to take his chips with him. He knew if he stayed there a little longer, he would end up with a missing tooth which would increase his handsomeness to a different level.

"Yeh zubaan kuch zyada hi chalne lag gayi hai!" He mumbled to himself, mentally thanking god that he was saved.

He sank onto the chair, his headphones back on his head as he vibed to the music, not giving a damn about his brother, as always.

Flashback ends

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Drishti forced a smile, trying to appear casual. "I thought I saw someone... Did you notice anyone around?"

Akshit shook his head, a puzzled expression on his face. "No, I didn't see anyone. Maybe it was just your imagination?"

Drishti nodded slowly, though she wasn't convinced.

"Ahm Akshit listen... if you ever see anyone around here, just tell me. Okay?" She asked, holding his hands in hers, desperate for an answer.

"Yes yes, I will. Chill out. I'll inform you if I ever see anyone here." He gave his charming smile. She smiled back.

They exchanged a few more words, their conversation light and inconsequential, before she excused herself and returned to the room. But as she walked back, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

Meanwhile, Rakshit had woken up from the noise and was lying in bed, his mind churning with suspicion. He had seen Drishti leave the room, and his gut told him that she was up to something. "I knew it" he muttered to himself, his voice laced with bitterness. "There's no way she would take such a huge step of marrying me without some kind of hidden agenda."

As he got out of bed and slipped on his kurta, Rakshit's thoughts were dark and swirling. He was determined to uncover whatever plot Drishti was hatching, and he wasn't going to let her out of his sight. He stepped out into the hallway, his movements silent and calculated, and soon found himself in a corner, watching Drishti and Akshit talking, and her hand holding his.

His eyes narrowed, and his fists clenched at his sides as he observed them. The sight of his wife-his wife-talking to his brother, holding his hands in the dead of night, in such a familiar manner, sent a wave of anger crashing over him. He gritted his teeth, his mind jumping to the worst possible conclusions. "What the hell is she doing?" he thought, his heart pounding with a mixture of jealousy and rage.

The same memories came rushing back, something he never wanted to remember even in his wildest dreams.

Unable to bear the sight any longer, Rakshit turned and walked away, his emotions in turmoil. He didn't want to confront her now, not when his mind was clouded with anger and confusion. But he would remember this-he would remember everything.

When Drishti finally returned to the room, she was met with the sight of Rakshit sitting on the bed, the lights on. His face was a mask of cold fury, and she felt her heart skip a beat as their eyes met.

"Where did you go?" Rakshit's voice was sharp, cutting through the silence like a knife.

Drishti's mind raced, searching for an excuse. She couldn't tell him about the shadow she had seen-he wouldn't believe her. "I... I went to drink some water," she lied, her voice trembling slightly.

Rakshit's eyes narrowed further, and he pointed to the water jug on the side table. "This is water, right? Or you thought it was poison?" His voice was dripping with sarcasm.

Drishti felt her pulse quicken, her nerves fraying under his intense gaze. "It's cold water," she stammered. "I wanted warm water, so I went to the kitchen..."

"The kitchen?" Rakshit echoed, his voice laced with disbelief. "Oh... so you went outside and took which turn?"

"Right" she said, trying to sound confident.

A smirk played on Rakshit's lips, and he shook his head slowly. "So you meant to say you took a right and went towards my temperature-controlled pool to drink water?" His voice was harsh, cold, and full of accusation.

Drishti's heart sank, and she realized her lie had backfired. "No, that's not... I..." she began, but her voice trailed off, unable to find a way out of the situation.

Rakshit didn't wait for her to finish. He turned off the lights with the remote and lay back down on the bed, closing his eyes. "You can do so many things-change the brides, marry me-but you can't even lie properly." He muttered, a bitter chuckle escaping his lips.

Drishti watched him, her heart heavy with guilt and fear. His words cut deep, and she knew she had lost any chance of gaining his trust. He pulled his pillow close, trying to find some semblance of comfort, but the hurt was still there, buried beneath the layers of anger.

Rakshit tried to sleep, but his mind wouldn't let him rest. He couldn't shake the image of Drishti and Akshit together in the middle of the night, talking as if they were the closest of friends. It gnawed at him, feeding his insecurities and deepening his resentment. "She's so friendly with my brother and yet so damn rude to me" he thought bitterly.

Meanwhile, Drishti curled up on the sofa, unable to find any peace. She knew that this was only the beginning-that the storm was coming, and it would be fierce. She closed her eyes, trying to block out the fear that gripped her, but the uncertainty of what lay ahead kept her awake long into the night.

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MORNING

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow in the room as Drishti adjusted her saree in front of the mirror. The yellow fabric draped elegantly over her, enhancing her natural beauty with its simplicity. But beneath her composed exterior, a storm of anxiety brewed. The ritual of the face reveal was imminent, and she knew that soon, she would have to face Rakshit and his family in a way she hadn't yet.

Rakshit entered the room, his eyes casually scanning the space until they landed on Drishti. He froze for a moment, caught off guard by the sight of her in a saree. It wasn't something he had expected to see her in, and for a brief moment, he was genuinely awestruck. The way the yellow saree clung to her frame, the way it contrasted with her dark hair, it was... stunning. But as quickly as the admiration had come, he pushed it away, masking it with his usual sarcasm.

"What are you wearing?" he asked, his tone sharp but laced with an edge of curiosity he couldn't fully hide.

Drishti turned to face him, her own nerves simmering just beneath the surface. "A saree." she replied coolly, raising an eyebrow at his question. "Kyun? Aapko try karni hai kya?" (why, do you want to try this?

Rakshit scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the doorframe. "Please. I don't have time for your pathetic jokes, Mrs. Shergill."

Drishti's lips curved into a sly smile as she stepped closer, her confidence slowly returning. "Oh, come on, Mr. Shergill. You seemed quite interested just now. Maybe yellow is your color."

Rakshit's eyes narrowed, his pride refusing to back down. "I think I'll stick to what I know suits me. Not that you'd understand anything about style."

"Right," Drishti shot back, not missing a beat. "Because your sense of style is so impeccable. Boring black suits and frowns are all the rage, aren't they?"

He couldn't help the smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth. "At least I'm consistent. Unlike someone who seems to have a habit of showing up in unexpected places."

Drishti's playful expression faltered for just a second, but she quickly recovered. "I guess you'll have to keep guessing where I'll pop up next. Keeps things interesting, don't you think?"

Rakshit's gaze locked onto hers, the playful banter fading into something more intense. "Oh, I'm counting on it, Mrs. Shergill. But remember, I always win."

Drishti met his gaze with equal intensity, the weight of his words sinking in. "We'll see about that, Mr. Shergill, because, I never lose."

The tension between them crackled in the air, a mixture of unresolved anger, unspoken attraction, and the looming uncertainty of what was to come. Neither of them would back down, but neither was willing to admit how this unexpected marriage had shaken them both.

"You be ready for the storm that is about to come. Its muh dikhai today, remember, Mrs. Shergill?" He spoke and her face fell. She knew it's going to be bad. However, she masked it soon, replying

"I know, I don't have amnesia."

He let out a humorless laugh cleary mocking her as she came towards him, all ready to go downstairs. They both left the room together.

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The Shergill mansion buzzed with anticipation as the family gathered for the traditional face reveal ritual. Drishti sat quietly, her heart pounding in her chest, the weight of her decision pressing down on her. The yellow saree she wore, though simple, made her stand out, drawing the eyes of everyone in the room.

Rakshit stood beside her, his expression unreadable as he maintained his stoic demeanor. He hadn't said much since their earlier exchange, but Drishti could feel the tension radiating from him. She knew this moment could change everything-how his family viewed her, how they would treat her, and most importantly, how Rakshit would react once the truth was fully unveiled.

His mother, Mahima, approached with the ceremonial plate in hand, her face lit with a soft smile. She was eager to welcome her daughter-in-law, unaware of the storm that was about to break. As the priest chanted the sacred mantras, Mahima reached out to lift the veil from Drishti's face.

But as soon as the veil was raised, her smile faltered. The room fell into a stunned silence, the collective gasp from the family echoing in the ornate hall. Instead of Lavanya, the girl Mahima had carefully chosen for her son, it was Drishti who sat before them, her face calm but her eyes betraying the turmoil within.

Mahima's hand shook as she stepped back, her mind struggling to process the sight in front of her. "What... what is this?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

The murmurs began to spread through the family like wildfire. Confusion turned to shock, and shock quickly gave way to outrage.

Mahima's shock morphed into fury. "How dare you?" she hissed, her voice trembling with rage. "You... you deceived us!"

Drishti stood up slowly, her legs feeling weak under the weight of everyone's stares. "Aunty, I-"

"Don't you dare call me that!" Mahima's voice cracked like a whip, silencing Drishti. "I welcomed you into my home, treated you with respect, like my own daughter...and this... this is how you repay me? By tricking me, my son, my family?"

Before Drishti could respond, Mahima's hand lashed out, slapping her across the face with a force that echoed through the room. The slap was so sudden, so unexpected, that everyone froze, including Drishti. Her cheek stung with pain, but the shock of the action numbed her to everything else.

Rakshit's eyes widened, his usually composed demeanor breaking as he stepped forward, instinctively putting himself between his mother and Drishti. "Maa, stop!" he shouted, his eyes flashing with a mix of anger and protectiveness. "Enough." He stated,
his voice sharp and commanding, stunning everyone into silence.

Mahima looked at her son, her hand still raised, confusion and hurt etched on her face. "Rakshit, she-"

"I know what she did!" Rakshit's voice was filled with anger, but there was also a protective edge to it. "But that doesn't give you the right to hit her."

Drishti's eyes welled up with tears, not from the physical pain but from the humiliation of the moment. She had expected anger, but not this. Never this.

"You're defending her?" Mahima's voice was incredulous, her eyes searching his face for any sign of understanding. "This girl deceived us all, Rakshit. She tricked you into marrying her! How can you defend her after everything?"

Rakshit glanced at Drishti, her tear-streaked face tugging at something deep inside him-something he wasn't ready to acknowledge. He turned back to his mother, his expression hardening. "Maa, I'm not saying she's right, but violence won't solve anything. This is between her and me. I'll deal with it."

"But Rakshit! She fooled us all! Don't you know how important this was for us?? I specifically choose Lavanya because her kundali matched with yours!! But this girl-- we know nothing about her! Parents, friends, family, kundali, nothing!"

"She's my wife now." Rakshit interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Whether you accept it or not, it's done. Nothing can change that."

"But Rakshit-"

"Nothing, Maa." Rakshit repeated, his voice dropping to a firm whisper as he placed a protective hand on Drishti's shoulder. "Nothing can change this now."

Mahima looked at her son in disbelief, the realization that he was standing up for Drishti over his own mother hitting her like a ton of bricks. She stepped back, shaking her head as tears filled her eyes. "You've been blinded, Rakshit. I don't know how or why, but this girl has bewitched you. You'll regret this. Mark my words."

"Maa-" But she turned and walked away, without letting him complete.

He turned to Drishti, his eyes locking with hers. The pain and betrayal he felt were still there, but so was an undeniable sense of responsibility. "Come with me..." he said quietly, his voice carrying a weight that silenced any further protest from the family.

He guided Drishti out of the room, his grip on her arm firm but not harsh, as if anchoring her to him. The murmurs and disapproving looks from his family followed them, but he didn't care. Right now, all that mattered was getting Drishti away from the judgmental eyes and the escalating tension.

Once they were inside their room, he closed the door with a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair in frustration. The sound of the door clicking shut seemed to cut off the outside world, leaving them in a bubble of unresolved emotions.

He turned to face Drishti, who stood by the bed, still reeling from the slap and the events that had just unfolded. "You've put us in an impossible situation..." Rakshit began, his voice low but firm.

Drishti looked up at him, her eyes wide and still shimmering with unshed tears. Despite everything, she managed to hold her ground, meeting his gaze head-on. "I didn't want it to be like this..." she whispered, her voice cracking slightly.

"Yet here we are..." He sighed, taking a step closer to her.

He stood close to her. He raised his hand and Drishti instinctively flinched, her eyes squeezing shut, bracing herself for another blow. Her heart raced, anticipating the worst. But instead of a slap, she felt a soft, gentle touch on her cheek. Rakshit's hand was surprisingly tender as he caressed the reddened area.

"I won't hurt you, don't worry."

She hesitated before opening her eyes, meeting his gaze. The warmth in his eyes contrasts sharply with the harshness she expected. Rakshit's touch was both soothing and unfamiliar, sending a shiver down her spine. He walked over to a small ice bucket he had brought from downstairs and pulled out a few ice cubes.

He sat beside her on the bed, the ice cubes clinking softly as he wrapped them in a cloth. Gently, he placed the wrapped ice against her cheek, his movements careful and deliberate. Drishti watched him in silence, her emotions a tangled mess of confusion and surprise.

"It will help lessen the pain.."

Drishti's eyes got locked onto his, searching for any sign of insincerity but finding none. The ice cube was cold against her skin, but his touch was warm, almost comforting. She couldn't help but feel a mix of gratitude and bewilderment.

"Why are you doing this?" She spoke, voice as low as a whisper.

Rakshit's hand moved in slow, gentle circles, massaging the area with the ice. His expression was focused, and for a moment, he seemed lost in the act of caring for her.

He didn't replied and continued his work. She kept staring at him. Her eyes adored him for the first time ever, as he's the first person who cared about her after that disaster which ruined her life.

He finished the gentle massage, setting the now-melted ice aside. His eyes lingered on her for a moment, the intensity of his feelings evident.

"It will be okay in sometime."

Drishti watched him walk away, a mix of emotions swirling inside her. The room feels different now, charged with a new, unspoken connection. As Rakshit left the room, she remained where she was, staring after him, the ice's coldness lingering on her cheek but her heart warm from the unexpected gesture.

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