Author pov
Riddhima stood frozen in place, a cold shiver trailing down her spine as the realization washed over her. She hadn't just wrapped up a standard investigation; she had unwittingly unlocked the gates to a much bigger, darker, and far more dangerous mystery. The gravity of the situation hung heavily on her chest, pulling her into a spiral of intense overthinking.
"Miss Yaduvanshi, chinta mat kariye. Wo toh bas aise hi bol raha tha," Ayush said, breaking her trance with an reassuring smile.
(Miss Yaduvanshi, don't worry. He was just talking nonsense.)
Riddhima snapped out of her thoughts, forcing a composure she didn't fully feel. She brushed off her anxiety and adjusted her jacket.
"Thik hai, ab mujhe jaana chahiye," she said quietly.
(Alright, I should leave now.)
Ayush offered a polite, warm smile and nodded.
"Thik hai, main aasha karta hu ki hum dobara zaroor milenge," he replied softly.
(Alright, I hope we will definitely meet again.)
---
Fifteen days had passed since that unsettling incident. Life had steadily returned to its peaceful rhythm. Riddhima had thrown herself back into her daily routine, convincing herself that the danger was behind her.
However, on a quiet afternoon, her peaceful routine was interrupted when her father sent a message asking her to meet him in his study.
Riddhima walked up the grand staircase and knocked gently on the heavy wooden door of her father's study.
"Come in," came the deep, familiar voice from inside.
She opened the door and stepped in. Her father, Harshvardhan Yaduvanshi, was sitting at his massive mahogany desk, attentively reading through a thick leather-bound file. Hearing her entrance, he closed the folder, placed it neatly on the table, and removed his reading spectacles, resting them beside his papers.
Riddhima walked over to the desk, observing the tired look in his eyes.
"Ji Baba, aapne mujhe bulaya?" she asked gently.
(Yes Baba, you called me?)
Harshvardhan smiled fondly at his daughter, gesturing toward the leather armchair across from him.
"Haan baala, baitho... Mujhe tumse bahut zaroori baat karni hai," he said warmly.
(Yes child, sit down... I need to talk to you about something very important.)
Riddhima took her seat, leaning forward slightly with a hint of concern.
"Ji Baba, boliye..." she said.
(Yes Baba, tell me...)
Harshvardhan took a deep breath, looking at his daughter with a mixture of immense affection and helplessness. He rested his hands on the desk.
"Beta, jaise tum dekh rahi ho, ab main dheere dheere budha hota jaa raha hu aur ghar ki responsibility tumhare haathon mein hai. Tum toh jaanti hi ho tumhara bhai videsh mein business sambhal raha hai," he whispered softly.
(Beta, as you can see, I am gradually growing old and the family's responsibility rests on your shoulders. You already know your brother is handling the business abroad.)
Riddhima's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"Baba, aap kya kehna chahte hai, mujhe kuch samajh nahi aa raha hai?" she asked, genuinely perplexed.
(Baba, what are you trying to say? I am not understanding anything.)
Harshvardhan smiled gently, leaning across the table to take her hands into his own.
"Mera kehne ka matlab yeh tha ki... Riddhi, meri bacchi, tumhari shaadi ki umar ho chuki hai. Ab tumhe shaadi kar leni chahiye," he said tenderly.
(What I mean to say is... Riddhi, my child, you have reached the age for marriage. You should get married now.)
The words hit Riddhima like a sudden jolt. Her eyes widened, and she pulled her hands back slightly in sheer shock.
"Yeh aap kya keh rahe hai Baba! Mujhe shaadi nahi karni. Mujhe apne career par focus karna hai, main shaadi ke baare mein soch bhi nahi sakti!" she blurted out in urgency.
(What are you saying Baba! I don't want to get married. I want to focus on my career, I can't even think about marriage right now!)
Harshvardhan didn't get angry. Instead, he cupped her face gently with his hands, his eyes full of tenderness.
"Beta, tum jaanti ho ki tum apne career par focus karna chahti ho, par beta tum shaadi ke baad bhi toh career par focus kar sakti ho. Aur main tumhe force nahi karunga, par please iske baare mein zaroor sochha," he reasoned calmly.
(Beta, I know you want to focus on your career, but you can still focus on your career after marriage. And I won't force you, but please do think about it.)
He stood up, walked around the desk, and patted her head lovingly.
"Main hamesha tumhara bhala hi chahta hu," he whispered, leaning down to place a soft, reassuring kiss on her forehead.
(I always want the best for you.)
Riddhima looked at her father's hopeful face, feeling a wave of guilt. She internally debated the situation, coming up with a quick calculation.
"Main haan keh hi deti hu, kaunsa Baba ko ek hi din mein koi ladka mil jaayega aur meri shaadi karwa denge. Kam se kam ek ya do saal toh lagenge," she thought to herself with a secret sense of relief.
(I should just say yes. It's not like Baba will find a boy in a single day and get me married off immediately. It will take at least one or two years.)
Plastering a soft, innocent smile on her face, she looked up at her father.
"Agar aap yahi chahte hai toh main taiyaar hu, Baba," she said smoothly.
(If this is what you want, then I am ready, Baba.)
Harshvardhan's eyes lit up with joy. He immediately pulled her into a warm, fatherly hug, caressing her hair.
"Yeh hui na baat, meri gudiya! Tumhare Baba tumhare liye ek rajkumar dhundhenge, hmm?" he exclaimed happily.
(That's like my good girl! Your Baba will find a prince for you, hmm?)
Riddhima chuckled softly, wrapping her arms tighter around him.
"Ji Baba," she whispered.
(Yes Baba.)
---
A week passed in the blink of an eye. Riddhima was completely consumed by her workload at the office, sitting behind a mountain of files in her private cabin. Suddenly, her phone rang, shattering the quiet atmosphere of the room. She glanced at the screen, seeing her father's caller ID.
She picked up immediately.
"Ji Baba, kuch kaam tha?" she asked politely.
(Yes Baba, was there some work?)
"Haan beta, tum jaldi se ghar aa jao. Ghar par mehman aaye hue hai!" her father's voice came through the speaker, brimming with unusual excitement.
(Yes beta, come home quickly. We have guests at home!)
"Ji Baba, main kuch der mein aa rahi hu," she replied softly.
(Yes Baba, I am coming in a little while.)
"Ji Baba, main kuch der mein aa rahi hu," she whispered, hanging up the call.
She immediately grabbed her coat from the coat rack, slipped it on, and hurried out of her cabin toward the front reception desk.
"Ma'am, aap kahin jaa rahe ho?" the receptionist asked politely, standing up from her desk.
(Ma'am, are you going somewhere?)
"Yes Siya, ghar par kuch urgent kaam aa gaya hai. Sir ko bata dena," Riddhima instructed while gathering her car keys.
(Yes Siya, something urgent came up at home. Inform Sir.)
Siya winced slightly. "Ma'am, Sir gussa karenge," she warned.
(Ma'am, Sir will get angry.)
Riddhima let out an annoyed sigh. "Yaar, woh toh hamesha gussa karta rehta hai. Please naa Siya, sambhal lena," she pleaded dramatically.
(Oh come on, he is always angry anyway. Please Siya, handle it for me.)
Siya nodded with a sympathetic smile. "Okay ma'am, bye."
Riddhima waved goodbye and rushed down to her car. She drove straight home, pulling into the grand driveway. Walking inside, she stepped into the luxurious living room and froze dead in her tracks.
Sitting on the plush sofa was none other than her recent client, Ayush Malhotra, seated alongside a refined lady in her mid-fifties. Sitting across from them was her father, engaging in a lively conversation over tea.
Harshvardhan spotted her almost immediately.
"Lo, meri beti bhi aa gayi!" he announced with a wide, bright smile, gesturing for her to come and take a seat.
(Look, my daughter has arrived as well!)
Ayush looked up, his eyes widening in complete shock upon seeing Riddhima standing there.
Riddhima walked mechanically toward the seating area and sat down, her mind completely blanking out. She had glided straight into another realm of shock. Sensing her frozen state, her father subtly nudged her arm to bring her back to reality.
She offered the guests a strained, awkward smile before leaning sideways toward her father, speaking in a harsh, frantic whisper.
"Baba, yeh yaha kya kar rahe hai?" she asked under her breath.
(Baba, what are they doing here?)
Harshvardhan kept his smile pasted on his face as he whispered back through gritted teeth.
"Tumhare rishte ki baat karne aaye hai," he whispered.
(They have come to talk about your marriage proposal.)
Riddhima's eyes widened to the size of saucers. She gave her father a frantic, pleading look that screamed, 'So soon?!'
Harshvardhan simply responded with a cheeky, mischievous grin.
Riddhima began cursing her internal thoughts for making assumptions about the timeline. Suddenly, the middle-aged lady's polite voice cut through the heavy silence.
"Mr. Yaduvanshi, agar aapko koi problem nahi hai, toh inn dono ko akele mein baat karni chahiye," Ayush's mother suggested gracefully.
(Mr. Yaduvanshi, if you don't have any problem, these two should talk in private.)
Harshvardhan chimed in happily without missing a beat.
"Ji zaroor, mujhe kya problem hogi! Riddhima, jao Ayush ko garden mein le jao," he instructed warmly.
(Yes, of course! Why would I have any problem? Riddhima, go take Ayush to the garden.)
Riddhima slowly leaned back, maintaining her pleasant facade for the guests while directing a deadly stare straight at her father.
"Aapko bada maza aa raha hai Baba, aapki toh main baad mein class lungi," she threatened in a whisper meant strictly for his ears, pointing metaphorical daggers at him.
(You are enjoying this way too much, Baba. I will take your class later.)
Harshvardhan gulped nervously, but quickly composed himself, flashing her a toothy, innocent smile.
Riddhima turned back to the guests, plastering a sweet, fake smile on her lips.
"Ji zaroor, Baba," she said graciously.
(Yes, of course Baba.)
---
Riddhima led the way out to the sprawling backyard garden, with Ayush following behind quietly. They made their way to a decorative stone bench surrounded by blooming roses and sat down.
Ayush cleared his throat, breaking the initial awkward silence.
"Aapse dobara milkar khushi hui, aur shayad destiny bhi hume milana chahti thi," he admitted with a sincere smile.
(It's nice to meet you again, and perhaps destiny wanted us to meet as well.)
Riddhima returned the smile politely, but an awkward silence stretched between them once more. Ayush shifted slightly on the bench, his tone turning serious and gentle.
"Are you happy with this marriage?" he asked directly.
Riddhima sighed, deciding that honesty was the best policy in this unexpected situation.
"Honestly speaking, I am not interested in marriage right now. But my Baba wants this, so..." her voice trailed off.
Ayush looked at her with genuine surprise.
"You're also forced into this marriage?" he asked.
Riddhima caught the specific wording in his sentence and frowned slightly.
"What do you mean by 'also'?" she asked, thoroughly confused.
Ayush let out an exhausted sigh, rubbing the back of his neck.
"My mom is forcing me to get married," he confessed.
Riddhima looked at him with a gaze full of sympathy.
"Main samajh sakti hu kaisa lagta hai marriage mein force hona," she murmured softly.
(I can understand how it feels to be forced into marriage.)
Ayush hesitated for a moment before looking at her intently, offering a pragmatic proposal.
"Tumhare Baba bhi tumhari shaadi karwana chahte hai aur meri mom bhi. Kisi anjaan se shaadi karne se accha hai ki hum ek dusre ko pehle se hi jaante hai, toh koi problem bhi nahi hogi, right?" he suggested cleanly.
(Your Baba wants you to get married, and so does my mom. Instead of marrying a complete stranger, we already know each other, so there won't be any issues, right?)
Riddhima went quiet, evaluating his logic.
"Main apne Baba ke liye itna toh kar hi sakti hu. Aur waise bhi, main Ayush ko pehle se jaanti hu toh koi problem bhi nahi hogi," she thought to herself.
(I can at least do this much for my Baba. And anyway, I already know Ayush, so there won't be any problem.)
It made perfect logical sense. Marrying a familiar acquaintance was far better than taking a leap of faith with a total stranger.
She looked up at him with a genuine smile. "It sounds good," she agreed.
Ayush placed a hand over his heart and dramatically bowed his head right there on the bench.
"Glad to hear that," he said playfully.
Riddhima broke into a genuine chuckle, shaking her head at his theatrics.
"Tum toh mujhse bhi bade waale dramebaaz ho," she teased.
(You are an even bigger drama queen than me.)
Ayush puffed his chest out playfully. "Woh toh main hu," he replied proudly.
(That, I definitely am.)
Riddhima smiled, though her expression shifted to a more grounded, serious tone.
"First, I want to go with you on dates so we can understand each other better," she laid out her condition clearly.
For a split second, a strange flicker of something dark and unreadable flashed deep inside Ayush's eyes. However, the emotion vanished so rapidly within less than a second that Riddhima wondered if she had imagined it.
Ayush nodded smoothly with his effortless charm. "Why not!"
Before they could continue their conversation, a loud bark reverberated from the side bushes, followed instantly by a sharp, dramatic meow.
Out trotted a tiny dog, followed closely by a small, fluffy kitten. Riddhima's eyes instantly lit up. She knelt down, scooping both animals into her arms at once, bringing them up to her chest and cooing over them instantly.
The tiny dog immediately started wiggling, licking her cheeks enthusiastically in pure happiness. Meanwhile, the little kitten put up a fight, displaying immense attitude as she struggled frantically to free her tiny paws from Riddhima's grasp.
Riddhima pouted at the feline.
"You're so bad! Why are you showing attitude to me?" she whined affectionately.
Ayush cleared his throat, looking at the bundle of fur in her arms with a mix of awkwardness and confusion.
"Are they your pets?" he asked cautiously.
Riddhima grinned, pulling the kitten closer and leaning down to whisper urgently into the cat's ear.
"Please naa, dusre ke saamne meri bezaati mat kar! Meri kya izzat reh jayegi jab sabko pata chalega ki meri beti meri izzat bhi nahi karti. Please naa, please co-operate!" she pleaded in a dramatic murmur.
(Please don't humiliate me in front of others! What respect will I have left when everyone finds out that my own daughter doesn't respect me? Please, please cooperate!)
The cat slowly turned its head, gave Riddhima a profoundly lazy, unbothered stare, and let out a long, bored yawn directly in her face.
Riddhima froze, then turned to Ayush with a deeply awkward smile.
"She is feeling sleepy, that's why she is behaving like that. But she respects me a lot," she offered by way of an explanation.
Ayush looked at the unbothered cat, his lips twitching up in amusement. "Yeah, I can see that," he said dryly.
He gestured toward the pair again. "So... are they your pets?"
"No, they are not my pets. They are my kids!" Riddhima corrected him proudly.
She pointed to the dog first. "His name is Munni." Then she pointed to the dismissive kitten. "And her name is Golgappa."
Golgappa the kitten stared at both of them with a utterly bored expression, her tail flicking lazily.
Ayush smiled warmly and stepped forward, reaching out a hand to pet the little dog. However, as soon as his hand neared, Munni transformed instantly baring his tiny teeth and barking ferociously like a wild beast.
Riddhima gasped in shock. "Munni! Bad manners!" she scolded sharply.
Hearing her tone, Munni immediately dropped his ears, lowered his snout, and looked down at his paws with a dramatically sad, guilty expression.
Ayush chucked slightly and turned his attention to the kitten instead. He carefully reached down, picking up Golgappa into his arms, holding her up gently.
"Hello Golgappa," he said sweetly.
The kitten stared at him in complete silence for a good, long second, her eyes narrowing into slits. Suddenly, without a moment's warning, her paw swiped out, scratching his face sharply with her claws.
She immediately wriggled out of his grip, leaped out of his arms, landed gracefully on the wooden bench, and turned back to glare at him warningly. Her posture clearly signaled: 'Next time, don't even think of touching me without my permission.'
Satisfied that her message had been delivered, Golgappa stretched out and lazily laid down on the bench, closing her eyes to take a nap.
Riddhima stared at her cat in absolute shock mixed with undeniable amusement. She clasped her hands over her mouth before shouting dramatically at the sleeping feline.
"Golgappa! Maine tumhe yahi sanskaar diye hai?! Batao kya kami reh gayi thi mere sanskaaro mein jo tum aaj hinsa par utar aayi?!" she wailed playfully.
(Golgappa! Are these the values I raised you with?! Tell me, what was lacking in my upbringing that you resorted to violence today?!)
The cat opened one eye, looked at her mother with an utterly done face, and closed her eye again.
Riddhima cleared her throat awkwardly, avoiding Ayush's gaze.
"Ayush, hume shayad yaha se chalna chahiye," she suggested softly.
(Ayush, maybe we should get back inside.)
Ayush nodded silently, shooting a swift glare at the cat who was currently sleeping peacefully as if nothing had transpired.
They made their way back inside the house, returning to the living room where their parents were waiting patiently. As they took their previous seats, Ayush's mother immediately noticed the fresh, faint scratch mark on her son's cheek.
"Beta, yeh kis cheez ka nishan hai?" she asked out of concern, leaning in to inspect his face.
(Beta, what is this mark from?)
Riddhima instantly lowered her head, burning with intense embarrassment.
Ayush quickly brushed it off with a casual wave of his hand. "Nothing mumma, just a minor scrape," he lied smoothly.
Harshvardhan looked directly at his daughter, seeking answers. Riddhima subtly caught her father's eye and blinked back twice in silently confirmation, subtly nodding toward the garden. Realizing the cat had attacked him, a sudden chuckle escaped Harshvardhan's mouth.
Catching himself, he quickly turned the chuckle into a cough to cover it up, taking a sip of his tea. Riddhima stared at her father in utter disbelief, while her father threw her an apologetic, amused look in return.
Harshvardhan settled his cup down and looked intently at Riddhima, seeking her final answer regarding the marriage proposal. Riddhima gave him a small, definitive nod of agreement.
Harshvardhan beamed in absolute joy.
Ayush turned toward his mother, speaking in a respectful, calm voice.
"Mom, hum dono iss rishte ke liye taiyaar hai. Lekin hume ek dusre ko samajhne ke liye kuch time chahiye," he explained gently.
(Mom, both of us are ready for this relationship. But we need some time to understand each other.)
His mother smiled warmly, relieved and pleased. "Haan, zaroor," she agreed completely.
Harshvardhan stood up from his chair, beaming proudly as he called out toward the kitchen hallway.
"Kamla! Sabka muh mitha karwao!" he shouted merrily.
(Kamla! Bring sweets for everyone!)
The head maid rushed out carrying a large silver platter piled high with traditional Indian sweets. Smiles filled the room as everyone exchanged congratulations, feeding sweets to one another to celebrate the union.
---
Later that night, Riddhima found herself lying across her bed, resting her head against the headboard while holding her phone up to her ear. She had been talking on the phone with Ayush for over an hour. While he was polite, the conversation was dragging, and she desperately wanted an excuse to hang up.
"Ayush, woh Baba bula rahe hai dinner ke liye," she lied smoothly, trying to sound repentant.
(Ayush, Baba is calling me for dinner.)
Ayush fell for it immediately. "Oh, it's okay, you go," he said gracefully.
"Goodnight," she offered sweetly.
"Goodnight, babu," he replied smoothly before ending the call.
The moment the call disconnected, Riddhima pulled the phone away from her ear, her face twisting into a look of absolute disgust. She shuddered visibly.
"Kon iss generation mein 'babu' nickname use karta hai? It's so cringe! Why am I regretting my decision already?" she groaned softly, sighing dramatically into her pillow.
She shook her head, trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. "It's okay, bechara sikh jaayega dheere dheere," she muttered to herself with a small laugh.
(It's okay, the poor guy will learn slowly with time.)
She turned off her bedside lamp, pulled the soft duvet over her shoulders, and closed her eyes. Her mind briefly drifted back to the sudden turn of events-how a single casual decision was going to change her entire life forever. Gradually, exhaustion took over, and sleep engulfed her.
Riddhima pov
I am trapped in a suffocating wall of fire. Roaring flames lick at the walls around me, thick black smoke filling my lungs with every ragged breath I draw. I desperately try to move, to push myself up off the blazing floor, but my limbs refuse to cooperate. My bones feel completely limp, heavy, and useless.
Panic claws at my chest, but as the heat intensifies, a terrifying realization settles deep within me: my end is near.
I don't want to die. I want to live. I have so much left to do, so much left to see...
As the air thins out, a sudden sense of strange calmness washes over my terrified mind. 'Maybe I am going to my Mumma,' I think softly to myself. The fear slowly ebbs away. I stop struggling against the overwhelming heat. Everything begins to feel peaceful, quiet, almost ethereal. I let out a final, soft breath and prepare to close my eyes forever, accepting the void.
Suddenly, through the hazy curtain of fire and smoke, a silhouette breaks through.
A tall figure rushes forward, defying the blaze, and scoops me up into his arms effortlessly. He pulls my weakening body tight against his chest.
His face is completely covered with a dark cloth, shielding his identity. Between the heavy smoke burning my vision and my slipping consciousness, I can't make out his features. But as he cradles my head, my droopy eyes catch a glimpse of the most striking, breathtaking pair of eyes I have ever seen.
Staring down at me with fierce intensity are my absolute favorite amber eyes glowing like warm sunlight through the surrounding destruction.
Before I can process anything else, darkness consumes me entirely, and my body goes completely limp in his arms.
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