This is my favourite book😅

Which book of mine is yours favourite???

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Meera stood in the kitchen, meticulously packing Shaurya's lunch. She had placed everything perfectly—the freshly made chapatis, curry, salad, and dessert—when her phone rang. It was Shaurya.

"Send my lunch with the driver," Shaurya's tone was curt, commanding as always.

"Y-Yes," Meera replied softly.

"Shau-" before she could speak more Shaurya had already disconnected the call. She sighed heavily and continued packing his lunch.

The door bell rang and she fixed her saree properly before opening the door.

"Ma-Malkin Sh-Shaurya Saab ka lunch" The elderly driver spoke and Meera felt concerned after noticing the old man.

His frail frame and the sweat glistening on his forehead. He looked unwell, his hands trembling slightly as he tried to take the tiffin.

"Are you okay, uncle? You don't look well," Meera asked, concern evident in her tone.

"I'm fine, Ma-malkin. I'll manage," the driver replied, his voice shaky.

Meera hesitated for a moment, then spoke firmly, "No, you're not fine. Go home and rest. I'll take this to Shaurya's office myself."

"But, Shaurya saab—"

"I'll handle him. Don't worry," she reassured him, offering a kind smile.

The driver reluctantly agreed, and Meera called for the guard to hail a taxi.

The city bustled around her as Meera sat in the taxi, clutching the tiffin tightly. Her thoughts swirled with nervousness and unease. She had never gone to Shaurya's office before, and the thought of facing him again just unsettled her.

When she arrived, the street outside his office was teeming with people. As she stepped out of the taxi, a large vehicle blocked her view, forcing her to cross the road.

As she stepped onto the road, a familiar voice called out, stopping her in her tracks.

"Meera!"

Her heart froze. She turned slowly, and there he was—Vikrant.

Vikrant hurried over, his eyes scanning her face for any sign of distress. "What are you doing here alone?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

"I—I came to deliver lunch for Shaurya ji," Meera stammered, clutching the tiffin tighter.

"You should've let someone else handle it," Vikrant said, frowning. "It's dangerous to be out here alone."

Meera forced a small smile. "I-I can manage,. P-Please don't worry."

His eyes fell to her wrist, where faint marks from Shaurya's previous outburst still lingered. He reached for her hand instinctively, his thumb brushing against the bruises.

"Does this still hurt?" Vikrant's voice was low, his anger barely restrained.

Meera pulled her hand back abruptly, her gaze dropping to his ring finger. The gold band glinted in the sunlight—a stark reminder of the boundaries between them. Her chest tightened, and she stepped back.

"I-I s-should go," she said softly, avoiding his gaze. "Take care of Ishani di."

Unbeknownst to Meera, Shaurya had just arrived in the parking lot. His eyes narrowing as he spotted her across the street. His wife... standing with Vikrant.

A surge of possessive rage coursed through him. His fists clenched as he began striding toward them, ready to confront her. But before he could cross the road, his eyes caught another movement—a figure holding a lunchbox, stepping onto the road.

It was Ishani.

The screech of tires and the sickening thud of a body hitting the pavement tore through the air. Shaurya's heart sank as he saw his sister sprawled on the road, the lunchbox tumbling out of her hands.

"ISHANI" Shaurya screamed taking Vikrant and Meera's attention.

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The waiting room was thick with tension. Shaurya stood rigid, his jaw clenched, while Vikrant paced restlessly. Meera sat in a corner, her hands trembling as she clutched the pallu of her saree tightly.

Meera's heart sank as she noticed the subtle, yet unmistakable, glares being thrown her way from her and Vikrant's family. After that one incident which she didn't even commit lately She had been the one to bear the brunt of their disapproval, but today, it felt different. There was something colder in the air, something more biting in the way they looked at her.

And then, it hit her—she was the reason Ishani had been in the accident. It wasn't her fault, but the way they would perceive it, the way they would twist the story, made her stomach churn.

When the nurse emerged, Shaurya rushed to her. "How is Ishani? Is she okay?"

"She's fine, just minor injuries," the nurse replied.

Relief flooded Shaurya's face.

Vikrant took a deep breath of relief. He turned, intending to speak to Shaurya, but froze at the look in Shaurya's eyes—pure, unbridled fury.

"Meera. Come here," Shaurya commanded, his voice sharp and biting.

Meera flinched, her heart pounding. Slowly, she stood and walked toward him, her head bowed.

The slap came without warning, sharp and forceful, the sound echoing in the sterile hospital corridor.

Meera stumbled back and fell on the floor, her lip splitting from the impact. Tears welled in her eyes, but she refused to cry.

"Shaurya!" Vikrant roared, grabbing Shaurya by the collar.

"She's my wife!" Shaurya growled, shoving Vikrant back. "So  you—stay out of it. I had told you didn't I, every tear that my sister would shed, Meera would cry a river for it. I hope you realize now that I wasn't just joking." Shaurya seethed making Meera flinch in pure terror.

It was pure humiliation. Her own husband had slapped her in front of the whole hospital and her own family. Her own family that wasn't hers anymore. She wasn't their daughter anymore but Ishani was.

Meera whimpered as Shaurya dragged her out of the hospital, Vikrant started to follow, but a soft voice stopped him.

"Vikrant beta, please," Sahista, Meera's mother, stood before him, her hands folded. "Don't make things worse for her."

"But aunty—"

"Please, Vikrant. Focus on your marriage. Ishani needs you. If you love my daughter, you'll let her deal with this on her own. Protect her by staying away," Sahista pleaded, her voice breaking.

Vikrant's shoulders slumped. He looked toward the hospital doors where Shaurya and Meera had disappeared, his heart heavy with guilt and helplessness.

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Shaurya shoved Meera into the car, his grip bruising her arm.

"Save your tears till we reach home, Meera" he hissed. "Once a whore, always a fucking whore"

Meera bit her lip, tasting blood, but she didn't respond.

"I told you—you belong to me, and only me. You will learn to behave, Meera, and today I will make sure you do," Shaurya snarled, slamming the car door shut.

Meera stared out of the window, her tears silent as she sobbed for mercy from god.

Comment and let me know what you think about Shaurya and Vikrant.