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Author

The first morning after their marriage, Aaravika woke up to find the room eerily quiet. The usually bustling air of her new home seemed absent, and she was alone. Ignoring the emptiness, she dressed herself in a beautiful saree, trying to ignore the tight knot in her chest. As she walked toward the hall where everyone was gathered, she was stopped by Shrivanya, Vayran's cousin, who came up to her with a smile.

“You look gorgeous,” Shrivanya said, her tone sweet but apologetic. “But, as per tradition, you were supposed to wear a poshak,” she added, holding up a beautiful garment with intricate embroidery. “Grandpa gave it to you. Don’t worry, I can help you wear it.”

Aaravika raised an eyebrow, feeling a little overwhelmed. “I don’t know how to wear this,” she admitted, feeling self-conscious.

Shrivanya, with a laugh that made the room feel a little lighter, replied, “I’m here, don’t worry.” Then, with a sudden change in her expression, she added, “Oh! I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Shrivanya, Vayran Bhai’s cousin, and your pyaari si nanand.”

Aaravika smiled at the warm introduction. “What a sweet name and nature you have,” she said, genuinely impressed. But the tension in the room returned when Shrivanya informed her that no one, except Grandpa and Tanvik Bhai, was allowed into Vayran's room.

Aaravika’s heart skipped a beat as Shrivanya continued, “But now, you have equal rights to the room, as you’re his wife.” The words felt strange, and the weight of their contract marriage began to press down on Aaravika’s chest. Shrivanya didn’t know it was just a ten-month deal, and that truth gnawed at Aaravika.

As they walked toward Shrivanya’s room, Aaravika asked, “Where did Vayran go so early? It’s 6:30 AM.”

Shrivanya shrugged, her face turning serious. “No one knows. Vayran doesn’t like anyone interfering in his business. Not even his father.” She paused, glancing at Aaravika, before adding, “After all, he’s the CEO of Chandravansh Enterprise now.”

Aaravika digested the words quietly, still trying to adjust to this new world. But Shrivanya wasn’t finished. “You have to be careful of someone else in this house too. Lavanya. She’s Vayran Bhai’s stepsister.”

Aaravika froze, her thoughts racing. “He has a stepsister?” she asked, shocked.

Shrivanya nodded. “Yes, after Vayran Bhai’s mom died, his father remarried. Lavanya’s mother came into the picture, and since then, Lavanya has been trying to get closer to Vayran Bhai. She’s clingy, and her mother does nothing to stop it.”

The words hit Aaravika like a ton of bricks, but before she could process it further, they reached Shrivanya’s room. Aaravika was soon dressed in the poshak, feeling a little more at ease, though still caught in her swirling thoughts about Vayran.

Later, when she entered the dining area, Vayran was already sitting at the center. His cold demeanor made the air around him stiff and hard to breathe. Aaravika felt a surge of anger when she remembered the way he had made her sleep on the floor the previous night. Her mind raced with frustration, but she held it in, reminding herself that she had to survive this contract—however long it would last.

As she approached the table, everyone was seated, with Vayran’s grandfather sitting opposite him. The maid brought out food, including the rava kesari she had made for her peheli rasoi. Aaravika stood, waiting for the right moment to serve it.

Her stepmother—no, her stepmom-in-law—motioned for her to serve the dessert. Aaravika hesitated but did as she was told. As she was about to place the bowl of rava kesari in front of Vayran, he raised his hand, signaling that he wouldn’t eat it. His expression was unreadable, but Aaravika was determined not to let him get away with it. She placed the bowl in front of him anyway.

Before she could sit down, Lavanya made her move. She walked over and tried to sit at Vayran’s side, only to be scolded sharply by his grandfather. “Not there, Lavanya,” he snapped. “Go to your usual place. Don’t cause a scene.”

Lavanya glared at Aaravika and intentionally bumped her shoulder. Aaravika didn’t react, instead focusing on Vayran, who hadn’t even glanced at the rava kesari.

"Why aren't you eating?" Aaravika asked, her voice quiet but sharp.

Vayran rolled his eyes. “What do you want?” he asked in his usual cold tone.

Without waiting for her answer, Vayran took a bite of the kheer, his expression unreadable until the spice hit him. His jaw clenched, a sharp glint flashing in his eyes. Slowly, he turned to Aaravika, who sat beside him, grinning like a devil in disguise.

She leaned in slightly, her voice dripping with mockery. "How is it, Maharaj?"

The dining hall fell into a tense silence as his gaze darkened, promising a storm she had knowingly unleashed.

Vayran took another bite, not even flinching. Aaravika’s smirk faltered. How? she wondered. He wasn’t supposed to eat it. But he did, finishing the bowl without a single word.

As everyone else finished their meal and began offering gifts, Aaravika’s mind raced. Her new family members gave her presents, and her stepmom-in-law made sure to remind her to take the gifts to her room before joining them for the next ritual—the “ring battle.” Aaravika had heard rumors about it: a test of control between the husband and wife, to see who would rule the house.

But in that moment, all Aaravika could focus on was the dark, unreadable man sitting at the center of it all. Vayran.

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