AUTHOR'S POV

As the final applause faded into a soft hum, the staff began ushering everyone toward the food court.

Laughter filled the air, mingling with the aroma of freshly cooked dishes and the lingering excitement of the evening.

Ishan scooped Arisha into his arms, spinning her around with infectious joy.

“Isha, you were amazing!” he exclaimed, grinning wide.

Arisha laughed, swatting at his shoulder. “Bhai, stop it! People are watching!”

Sanvi rushed in next, wrapping Arisha in a warm, lingering hug.

“Isha, I swear, I couldn’t take my eyes off you! You were perfect!”

Arisha chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Di, you’re exaggerating again.”

From behind, Mihir stepped closer, his tone sincere and composed. “You were incredible, Arisha di. Really… you stood out.”

Arisha turned toward him, her smile soft but genuine. “Thank you.”

But not everyone shared the warmth.

Yugant’s eyes followed the exchange, his expression darkening just slightly.

The admiration in Mihir’s gaze did not go unnoticed. His jaw tightened, and his stare cut through the moment like a quiet warning - she’s mine.

Mihir caught it, sighed, and muttered under his breath, “Bhai… you’re too possessive.”

Nearby, Advay tilted his head, whispering to himself, Mihir Sir can get away with that because he’s family. If I ever tried saying something like that… I’d be a dead man.

Ishan clapped his hands, breaking the tension.

“Alright everyone! Let me properly introduce my sisters.” He gestured proudly.

“This is Arisha, the youngest and clearly the star of the day.”

Arisha smiled politely, offering a graceful nod.

“And this,” Ishan continued, placing an arm around Sanvi, “is Sanvi, also my younger sister, though she’ll never admit it.”

Soft laughter rippled through the group.

Then Ishan turned toward Yugant and his companions. “Isha, Sanu… meet Yugant Singh Raghuvanshi, Kiara’s fiance and his siblings, Mihir and Mahika.” He motioned toward each of them before adding, “And this is Advay… you can call him a friend.”

Advay blinked, startled. “Sir actually, I’m Yugant sir’s assistant-”

But Yugant cut him off, voice smooth and firm. “You can consider him a friend.”

Both Arisha and Sanvi gave courteous nods, acknowledging the introductions with polite smiles.

Just then, a staff member approached Arisha. “Ma’am, your car is ready.”

“Thank you,” she replied, her tone poised and calm. Turning back to the group, she smiled.

“You all enjoy the evening. I should get going.”

She hugged Ishan and Sanvi tightly before stepping back. “Don’t worry, I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

Then, with one last glance toward the rest, she offered a faint, professional smile and walked away.

There was something about her walk.. graceful, confident, and utterly composed, that made it hard to look anywhere else.

Yugant’s gaze followed her, a mix of admiration and unspoken claim flickering in his eyes.

Mihir sighed quietly. “Bhai… stop staring.”

Advay just exhaled and murmured, “And that’s my cue to stay silent.”

Ishan clapped his hands lightly. “Alright, let’s eat.”

Yugant, Mihir, and Mahika exchanged a look, then simultaneously shook their heads.

“No,” Mihir said firmly. “We’ll meet directly at the wedding. Too much to handle today.”

Yugant added, slipping into a mock expression of disappointment, his voice tinged with exaggerated sadness, “Yeah… I thought I could meet Kiara before the wedding.”

The trio - Mihir, Mahika, and Advay stared at him, wide-eyed, clearly struggling to process the kingly manipulation in real time.

Ishan, ever polite, nodded. “If you want, I can arrange a private meeting with her.”

Yugant waved his hand casually. “No, it’s alright. I’ll meet her directly at the wedding. She must be busy handling all the marriage preparations anyway.”

Ishan chuckled, a little impressed. “You’re very cooperative.”

Mihir’s jaw dropped slightly, Mahika’s eyes widened, and Advay’s eyebrows went up.

The look on all three faces was almost comical, like they’d just spotted horns growing out of their brother/King.

As Ishan and Sanvi waved their goodbyes, the trio followed Yugant back to the car.

The black vehicle slid smoothly through the gates, leaving Angel’s Home behind.

Mahika finally broke the silence, nudging her brother. “Bhai… what was that?”

Yugant leaned back, feigning innocence, lips curling into a sly smile. “What?”

Mihir, exasperated, muttered, “Don’t lie, Bhai. You were behaving like you liked Kiara so much.”

Yugant’s smirk deepened, the glint in his eyes unmistakable.

“That’s exactly the point. So, when we replace the bride… I can use fake anger, act offended, and convince everyone to replace her. Strategy, little brother, pure strategy.”

Mahika blinked, trying to gauge whether to be impressed or horrified. “Bhai… that’s… devious.”

Yugant leaned forward, fingers steepled, voice low but teasing:

“Devious gets results. And Mihir,” he added, turning toward his cousin, “you better learn quickly. This is how the king operates.”

Mihir muttered under his breath, blushing slightly, “Yes… sir. Noted, sir.”

The car moved silently for a moment, filled with the sound of the engine and the faint rustle of papers from Yugant’s file.

Outside, the world carried on unaware. Meanwhile inside, plans were already forming, schemes taking shape, and the king’s eyes were fixed firmly on one single goal: Arisha Rawal.

The black car rolled smoothly into the Raghuvanshi office complex. Inside, the staff were already at their stations, quietly going about their morning routines.

But the moment Yugant stepped out of the car, the air seemed to shift.

The assistants straightened immediately, some slightly holding their breath.

Security personnel stiffened, and even the most confident staff members lowered their eyes in respect.

The king’s presence was enough to command attention without a word, his aura cold, precise, and unyielding.

Yugant walked in, Advay following silently, every step measured.

Mihir and Mahika trailed a few paces behind, whispering and giggling, their casual energy standing in stark contrast to the tense respect of the office.

“Bhai, can we borrow your black card for shopping?” Mihir asked, eyes sparkling mischievously.

Mahika chimed in, leaning on Yugant’s shoulder slightly. “Yes, please, Bhai. We promise we won’t overspend… much.”

Yugant raised an eyebrow, glancing at Advay. “Give them my black card.”

Advay rolled his eyes, because of course they spent so little, and with a small nod, handed the sleek card to Mihir.

“Thank you, Bhai!” Mahika exclaimed, snatching the card.

“Don’t get caught by dadi,” Yugant warned, “or you’ll be next in line to get married,” voice calm but carrying the unmistakable edge of authority.

“And remember, day after tomorrow is the wedding. Spend wisely. Don’t make me regret giving this to you.”

The two siblings saluted him theatrically before dashing off, laughing and whispering excitedly as they disappeared around the corner, already planning their shopping spree.

Yugant turned back, his face settling into the familiar mask of the king, the stoic, commanding presence that everyone in the office both feared and respected.

Papers were signed, meetings conducted, decisions made, and his assistants worked in a flurry, careful to anticipate his needs before he even voiced them.

A few staff exchanged hushed words among themselves:

“Did you see how calm he was, even when those two were pestering him?”

“Yes, but look at the way he gave them the black card. That was… terrifying. And brilliant.”

Advay, quietly observing, muttered under his breath, “No one can approach him like that and live… except Mihir Sir and Mahika Mam.”

Yugant, meanwhile, leaned back, eyes briefly closing. For a moment, the king of the palace allowed himself a private smirk, recalling the events of the day at Angel’s Home.

The wheels in his mind were already turning. Arisha Rawal had entered his world, uninvited yet impossible to ignore.

And soon, very soon, he would begin the work of claiming what he believed was his before anyone else could even try.

Yugant returned to his private floor, the sanctum of the king’s carefully controlled world. But today, it felt different. Today, his mind was fully occupied by one thought: Arisha Rawal.

Advay, standing just behind him, waited patiently, ready to take orders.

“Advay,” Yugant began, his tone calm but carrying the weight of absolute authority, “I want everything about Arisha. Her likes, dislikes, favorite colors, favorite brands, everything she enjoys. Every detail, down to the snacks she prefers, the kind of music she listens to, even the smallest things she likes to keep around her.”

Advay nodded, trying to absorb the scope of the task. “Yes, sir. I’ll begin immediately.”

Yugant continued, his gaze sharp, calculating. “Everything she needs, everything a girl could desire, should be arranged on my floor. I want every type of dress she could like, every footwear style, all the makeup she uses, all her favorite snacks,  anything that could bring her comfort or joy. Understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Advay said, swallowing. “I will prepare the list and arrange for everything to be available.”

“And make it seamless,” Yugant added, voice low and deliberate. “I don’t want her to feel anything is out of place. Everything should be ready for her, as if this place.. my floor is made for her.”

Advay hesitated for a moment, then nodded resolutely. “Understood, sir. I will coordinate with the staff immediately. Everything will be arranged.”

Yugant’s lips curved into a faint, self-assured smirk. “Good. And Advay…”

“Yes, sir?”

“This isn’t just about giving her things. Every choice, every detail… it should feel personal. She shouldn’t just see it; she should feel it was made for her. And I want updates on everything, every purchase, every arrangement. Nothing can be missed.”

“Yes, sir,” Advay replied, already mentally planning how to execute the monumental task.

Yugant leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing slightly as he imagined her walking into the room. The thought alone brought a quiet intensity to his expression. Everything, he decided, would revolve around her.. every detail, every indulgence, every comfort she might desire.

Because in his mind, she wasn’t just a guest or a bride-to-be. She was… his.

And Yugant Singh Raghuvanshi never left anything to chance.

The palace was quiet that night, the golden lights casting a warm glow across the corridors.

Yugant returned to the main hall, his presence immediately drawing the attention of his family who had gathered for an evening cup of tea.

His mother, Amrita, looked up with a soft smile.

“Yugant… what did you order this much?” Her eyes scanned the numerous boxes, packages, and bags stacked neatly on the floor outside his private wing.

Yugant’s lips curved into a small, confident smile. “I ordered everything my fiancee likes.” His tone was calm, composed, but carried a subtle weight of determination.

Prabhakar, his grandfather, raised an eyebrow. “This much?”

Yugant’s gaze sharpened, and he replied evenly, “What do you mean by ‘this much’?”

His chachu, Pranay, chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Yugant… the whole day, staff has been carrying things onto your floor. Don’t you think it’s… a bit too much?”

Yugant’s expression hardened slightly, voice steady and commanding. “It’s not too much. I don’t want my wife to lack anything. Not a single thing.”

Vasundhara and Vidya exchanged knowing smiles, convinced that he was preparing everything for Kiara Rawal, picturing their future queen and her comforts.

But Mihir and Mahika, standing a few steps behind, exchanged sly looks. They knew better.

Curious, Yugant turned to one of the staff, his tone crisp and precise. “Did you arrange everything properly, or did you just leave the things on my floor?”

The staff bowed slightly. “Sir, we arranged everything properly. Every detail, every item, exactly as instructed.”

Yugant nodded once, satisfied. His eyes scanned the perfectly organized room, imagining it ready for her arrival. A faint smirk tugged at his lips, sharp and deliberate.

“Good,” he said quietly, more to himself than anyone else, before turning and walking toward his private chambers.

The doors closed behind him, leaving the rest of the family murmuring softly among themselves, entirely unaware that the king’s fiancee in his mind was not Kiara Rawal but Arisha Rawal.

Mihir and Mahika exchanged a quiet giggle, shaking their heads. “Bhai… he really is obsessive, isn’t he?” Mahika whispered.

Mihir just muttered, “Obsessive doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

I shut the heavy teakwood doors of my chamber behind me. The faint scent of fresh roses and sandalwood drifted in from the balcony, but all I could smell was her.

All I could see was her face on that stage today.. bold, radiant, untouchable.

I moved to the large window, staring out at the moonlit palace grounds. Every inch of this place screamed power and history, but tonight it felt like a cage I was preparing to open… for her.

My fingers brushed against the edge of the velvet curtain as I spoke to myself, low and steady, “Arisha…”

The name rolled off my tongue like a prayer and a promise at once. “You think you’re untouchable, you think you’re free. But soon, you’ll be here, in this palace… on my floor, in my arms.”

I let out a slow breath, eyes narrowing as flashes of today’s function played in my mind, her smile when the girls praised her, the way she snatched the mic with that fire in her eyes, her lehenga swirling as she walked off the stage.

Every second of it had been a challenge to my self-control.

And then my phone rang.

“Sir,” Advay’s voice came through, crisp as always. “The work is done.”

A slow smirk spread across my face. I tilted my head slightly, my voice a low growl. “Good.”

I cut the call without another word, slipping the phone onto my desk. My reflection stared back at me from the glass.. sharp eyes, the faintest shadow of a smile.

Everything was set. Every single detail.

I moved toward the center of the room, looking at the boxes filled with dresses, jewelry, the finest silk and cashmere, the rarest perfumes. All for her. Every piece of it a silent message: You’re mine.

I let my hand rest on the edge of the table, leaned in slightly, and murmured, almost like a secret vow,

“Everything is set, Jaan…” My voice dropped to a whisper, dark and certain. “You will be mine soon.”

The night swallowed my words whole, but my chest felt lighter.

Because I knew, no matter what stood between us, the queen I’d chosen was already walking toward her throne.

Toward me.

TO BE CONTINUED...