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Chapter - 20

Halwa and Storm.

Rajveer ~

Power looks different when you've earned it in blood.

My morning didn't start with coffee today, it started in the east wing, in a cold, dim-lit basement where two men were tied to chairs, shaking, bleeding, terrified. And rightly so.

They were Ahaan's men.

These were rats. Silent, patient, crawling through my territory in search of something they had no business touching.

"You know what I hate more than traitors?" I asked calmly, crouching in front of one of them. He flinched as my voice echoed off the concrete. "Cowards. The ones who don't even have the balls to face me and still try to play in my backyard."

He whimpered something unintelligible, but I was already done listening.

Vijay and Daksh had found them last night, sneaking around the archives beneath my cover office where intel regarding shipment routes, drop points, and alliances are stored. They weren't there for Aadya, they were there to please their boss.

This wasn't personal.

This was business. And I handled business without mercy.

I stood up slowly, brushing invisible dust off my sleeves. I didn't lift a finger. I didn't need to.

A single look at Daksh, and the room filled with a different kind of tension. Efficient. Silent. Deadly.

By the time I walked back upstairs, I could still hear the faint sound of screams behind the reinforced walls. Not that anyone would notice. Not in a house this big. Not when every wing had a purpose.

The east wing was never meant for peace.

I rolled my neck, straightened my collar, and walked out into the sunlit hallway like I hadn't just issued orders for two bodies to be disposed of before noon.

The switch was seamless. It had to be. Everyone here knew who I was and did not need a reminder every time they saw me, so I had to collect my rage and take it away before my mother saw me, which she did.

"Rajveer, where were you the entire morning? I was waiting for you at the breakfast table. Aadya had made halwa for her pehli rasoi and you didn't come for that either." Mom complained, as soon as she saw me walk in the living room.

I gave her a nod, smoothing the crease between my brows. "Business," I said simply, voice low but steady. No point in explaining the finer details to her, she already knew better than to ask.

Her eyes flickered with that blend of concern and disappointment she reserved for me, like I was walking a razor's edge. "You should eat. Aadya put her heart into that halwa."

I gave a small nod. "I'll eat."

She didn't say anything else. Just turned and walked away, but I got the message loud and clear - handle it. This marriage. This house. This woman who, somehow, was now a part of my world.

I headed to the kitchen.

There she was.

Aadya.

Standing near the counter, back to me, dressed in a soft peach saree. Her hair was loosely braided, a few strands falling around her face.

She hadn't noticed me yet. She was focused on arguing with the cook.

"No, Suraj bhaiya, it's not rocket science. We will just put less sugar next time. Not no sugar," she huffed.

The corner of my mouth lifted slightly.

I stepped forward. "If he is to survive your micromanagement, I'll have to give him a raise."

She turned around fast, arms already crossed, that fire in her eyes sparking like dry twigs under flame.

"Listen Rajveer, I am in no mood to start a fight so please, please tell me what you need and be off." She sounded like she was begging me to get out of the kitchen.

I leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, watching her fuss with the ladle.

"I just came to eat halwa." I said, keeping my tone light, but I knew it would annoy her more.

She glared at me. "You missed the rasam. Everyone was waiting but no, Mr. Mafia had important business to attend to."

I sighed. "You want me to lie, Aadya? Say I was in the garden plucking roses instead of handling men who were caught trying to steal from me?"

"You think everything can be brushed off with one of your dramatic gangster excuses, don't you?" she snapped, dropping the ladle into the bowl. "God, sometimes I forget you don't live in a normal world like the rest of us."

"No, I don't," I replied flatly. "And maybe if you remembered that, you would understand why you are still breathing and have not become one of Ahaan's many hunts."

"Mai yahan khadi rehkar tumse baat kar bhi kyun rahi hoon, mujhe samajh mein nahi aa raha. Tumhe jo karna hai karo, khaana hai toh khaao, nahi khaana hai toh mat khaao. Mujhe vaise bhi office jaane mein late ho raha hai." She said, putting the bowl in her hand on the counter louder than normal and barged out of the kitchen.

(I don't even understand why I'm standing here talking to you. Do whatever you want. If you want to eat, eat; if you don't want to eat, then don't. I'm already running late for the office anyway.)

I picked up the spoon and took a bite of the halwa. Sweet. A little too sweet. But not bad.

Before I could take another bite, I heard her voice again. This time, louder, probably talking to herself.

"I swear, I don't care who he is. He's not the only one who has made adjustments in his life. Everyone in that house expects me to play the perfect daughter-in-law while he walks around acting like he's doing us all a favour!"

I stepped out of the kitchen slowly, the spoon still in my hand.

She was in the corridor now, near the front foyer, clearly unaware that her voice was carrying through the halls.

But someone else heard her too.

"Aadya!"

It was her mother.

She froze mid-rant. I watched her shoulders stiffen like she'd just realised she was caught red-handed.

"Ma...." she began.

But her mother raised her hand.

"You don't speak about your husband like that. Not in his house. I raised you to fight injustice, Aadya. Not to start wars in your own home."

"Maa, you don't understand....."

"No, you don't understand. He had done nothing but protect you and all of us. He does not deserve all your harshness. He's not a perfect man, but you aren't a perfect woman either, he's not the only one in this marriage who needs to adjust Aadya."

"So even you feel that everything that has happened here, I am the villain and acting out? Theek hai Maa, phir toh baat hi khatam na. Vaada karti hoon ki aaj ke baad kabhi kuch nahi bolungi, na Rajveer se aur na hi aapse." Her voice had dropped by the end, but her eyes were shining with tears she was clearly trying hard not to let fall.

(Alright, Mom, then that's the end of the matter. I promise that from today onwards, I will never say anything, neither to Rajveer nor to you.)

She turned away, angry, hurt, and proud, all at once. The kind of mix only she could manage.

Her mother looked like she wanted to stop her, but didn't. She just sighed, quietly. "Beta..." she tried.

Aadya didn't reply. She climbed the stairs slowly, wiping the corner of her eye as she went.

I stood there, still holding the damn spoon in my hand, with the taste of her halwa still lingering on my tongue and the taste of her words still sharper than any spice.

Her mother looked at me next.

"I'm sorry, Rajveer," she said softly. "She didn't mean it like that."

I walked towards her, stopping a few steps away, "you have nothing to apologise for, Maa."

"She's angry. Overwhelmed. And scared, probably more than she admits. She's never lived in a world like this."

I gave a slow nod.

"I know," I said quietly.

Before she could say something else, Aadya was descending the stairs. She had her office bag clutched tight in one hand, her phone in the other. Her jaw was tight, her steps louder than usual on the marble floor.

She was walking fast, too fast.

"Aadya," I said quietly, while her mother excused herself and walked out.

She didn't stop. Didn't even glance at me.

I moved to block her way.

She sighed loudly and looked up. "Rajveer, please don't start. Not now. I'm already late for work, and I don't have the energy to fight with you."

"I'm not here to fight," I said. "I'll drop you to the office."

That made her blink. "What?"

"I said that I will drop you."

She crossed her arms. "Why? Vansh can drive me just fine."

"I am free right now," I replied. "Besides, I don't want you travelling alone today."

She frowned. "Is something wrong?"

I hesitated for a second, then shook my head. "No. Just a precaution."

I didn't want to scare her with what had happened in the east wing. She didn't need to know how close Ahaan's people had gotten to my shipment room. She didn't need more reasons to hate this world.

She stared at me for a moment. I could see her trying to read my face.

Then she rolled her eyes. "Fine. But if you say anything annoying, I'm jumping out of the car mid-traffic."

I almost smiled. "Deal."

The drive started in silence.

She stared out of the window, her arms crossed, her face calm but distant. I kept my eyes on the road, but my focus kept drifting back to her. Her reflection in the glass. The way the wind from the AC brushed a few strands of her hair across her cheek.

Halfway through the drive, the clouds suddenly darkened.

A second later, rain started falling. Heavy, loud, hitting the windshield like a drumbeat.

"Perfect." She muttered sarcastically.

The rain was coming down fast, the wipers barely keeping up.

"No signal." she muttered. "And I had back-to-back meetings scheduled. Just my luck."

"You can call from the office phone when you get there," I said.

She didn't reply. Just let out a soft sigh and leaned her head back against the seat. Her eyes were closed, but I knew she wasn't sleeping. She was tired though — that much I could tell.

Her phone buzzed, and she quickly picked it up, reading something before putting it back down again with a groan.

 "Still better than your temper."

She turned toward me slowly. "Excuse me?"

I looked over at her, raising an eyebrow. "You fight like that is your full-time job."

"Because you deserve it most of the time." she said, sitting up straight, clearly ready to continue.

But just then, the car jerked.

A loud thud. Then a sharp sputtering noise.

I cursed under my breath and pulled the car to the side.

"What now?" she asked, annoyed.

I got out into the rain, checked the tires, then the engine. When I got back in, I shook my head. "Engine overheated. We'll have to wait it out."

"Itna ameer hone ka kya fayda Rajveer jab yeh mehengi gaadi Nano ke saamne bhi na tik paaye?" She asked, glaring at me.

(What's the use of being so rich, Rajveer, if this expensive car can't even compete with a Nano.)

I gave her a look, wiping the rainwater off my face with my sleeve.

"You done?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

She leaned back against the seat with a huff. "Kyun? Sacchai kadwi lag rahi hai? Nano better chalti hai..... aur sirf Nano hi kyun, Alto bhi better chalegi tumhari iss mehengi khatara kabaad se."

(Why? Does the truth taste bitter? The Nano runs better... and why just the Nano, even the Alto will run better than your expensive piece of junk.")

I was here questioning my life choices instead of answering back, defending my  Rolls Royce.

Aadya sat with her arms crossed, her lips pursed in that way she did when she was trying not to scream.

I tried not to smirk. "Done insulting my car?"

She shot me a glare. "I still can't believe this expensive toy just gave up in the middle of the road."

"Well, it doesn't like being yelled at."

"Oh, poor thing," she said sarcastically. "How does it survive your company, then?"

I chuckled, shaking my head and watching the rain drum against the glass. Steam started fogging up the windows. I reached forward, twisting the knob to blast the defogger. The engine hissed in protest but kept running just enough to power the air blower.

"We need to wait for ten minutes," I said. "Let the engine cool. Then I'll try again."

She didn't respond. Just sat back with a dramatic sigh, pulling her pallu tighter around herself. Her saree was slightly damp from when I opened the gate to step out and then get it after checking the engines. Now a few strands of her hair were stuck to her cheek, and her arm had goosebumps.

Without saying anything, I reached for the backseat and grabbed my coat. I held it out.

She looked at it like it was a bomb.

"I'm not cold." she said quickly.

I tilted my head. "Did I ask?"

She hesitated, then snatched it from my hand and threw it over her shoulders, refusing to look at me.

"Thanks." she mumbled after a long pause.

For a few seconds, the only sound was rain. The city outside had slowed, people taking shelter wherever they could. In here, it was just us.

Stuck. Quiet. Tense.

Her phone buzzed again. She peeked at the screen, then turned it face down on her lap.

"Everything okay?"

"Haan." she muttered. "Work stuff. One of the meetings got pushed anyway. Guess the rain messed up everyone's plans."

She rubbed her palms together for warmth. Her shoulders were hunched, her expression softer now. Less fire, more... exhaustion.

I hesitated, then reached across the console slowly and turned the heater on.

She blinked in surprise but didn't say anything. Just adjusted the coat around her and leaned back again.

"You know..." she said after a while, voice quieter now. "This is the longest we've been in the same space without shouting."

I glanced at her. "You call this peace?"

She shrugged. "Closer than usual."

That made me smile.

"I didn't miss the rasam on purpose," I said after a few seconds. My voice was low, steady.

She turned her head toward me. "Then why?"

"There were people trying to steal from me," I said honestly. "It wasn't about you. It was bad timing."

She looked away, nodding once. "I know. It's just... everyone expects me to fit into this world instantly. And it's not just the house. It's the silence, the guards, the way no one says what they're really thinking." She paused, then added, "And then there's you."

"What about me?"

"Nothing."

I didn't push.

We sat there in silence.

Her fingers were still rubbing her palms, though the heater had started warming up the car.

"Your hands are freezing," I said, without thinking.

She scoffed. "Oh, sorry I didn't bring gloves in May."

I reached out before my brain could stop me. Took her hand.

She tensed immediately.

"What are you doing?" she whispered, eyes wide.

I didn't answer. Just wrapped both my hands around hers, gently, rubbing a little warmth into her fingers. Her skin was ice cold.

"I'm not trying anything," I said quietly. "Just warming your hands. You're shivering."

She stared at me like I was someone else.

Maybe I was.

I pulled my hand back and watched her settle the coat over her shoulders. Silence crept back in, heavy and familiar.

Then, as if she couldn't help herself, Aadya broke the quiet.

"You know what else is freezing?" she said, voice sharp. "Your room."

I raised an eyebrow. "My room is fine."

She scoffed. "Fine? It's like a black-and-white photograph. No colors. No warmth. No life."

I smirked. "It's a bedroom, not an art gallery."

She gave me a look. "Exactly my point. You live in a prison of your own making, Ranawat. It's all black, gray, and brown leather. It's depressing."

I crossed my arms. "It is called style."

"Style?" She laughed, clearly not convinced. "It's like living inside a coffin."

I shook my head. "You think I have time to fuss over cushions and curtains? I deal with wars, not wallpaper."

She rolled her eyes like I was talking nonsense. 

"I am going to change that room since it's mine too now." She announced.

"Fine," I said, my voice softer than before. "Change it. Make it more... lively. But don't paint it pink."

She smiled then, a small, genuine smile that made the corners of her eyes crinkle. It was rare to see her like that around me.

"We'll see." she said.

I looked over at her. She seemed smaller somehow, softer.

That was different.