[ RATHOD MANSION ]
The morning sunlight streamed through the windows, casting golden patterns across the long dining table. The aroma of fresh parathas and chai lingered in the air, yet the room held an unsettling stillness thick with unspoken words and hidden glances.The only sounds were the soft clinking of cutlery against ceramic plates and the occasional rustle of fabric as someone shifted in their chair.
A silence too heavy. Too distant.
And then, Dadi's voice rang through the quiet, commanding as ever.
"As you all know, next month marks your Dadaji's Barsi," she said, setting her spoon down with deliberate precision. "Jiji will be arriving soon, and I expect nothing less than absolute decorum from all of you."
Her sharp eyes scanned the room before settling on Rida.
"For you, beta, this will be the first time meeting your Badi Dadi Saas," she continued, her tone carrying the weight of both warning and expectation.
"She is a woman of iron discipline-strict, unwavering in her traditions.When she had to leave abruptly during your wedding, it was unavoidable, but let me make one thing very clear-she holds our family's values close to her heart."
Rida swallowed the lump in her throat and gave a respectful nod.
Rida met Dadi's gaze, sensing the layers beneath her words. There was something unspoken here, something she wasn't sure she was ready to understand.
A strange, hollow feeling settled in Rida's chest, though she pushed it away before it could root itself too deeply.
Dadi's eyes flickered toward Prakhar.Rida followed her gaze.
He didn't react. Didn't even pause. He continued eating as if the conversation had nothing to do with him. His indifference was deafening.The detachment in his posture was almost unnerving.
Dadi exhaled, her voice softening just slightly as she returned her attention to Rida.
"She may seem unyielding, but that is merely a shield." she continued. "Some people guard their emotions too fiercely, afraid that love makes them weak.They're afraid to show love, because they think love is vulnerability.She may seem cold ,but that is only the surface.Once you find your way past her walls, you will see-she cares, more than she will ever admit."
Something about those words struck a chord in Rida.She glanced briefly at Prakhar, wondering if Dadi's words were meant only for her or if they carried an unspoken meaning for him as well.
Still, he didn't react.
The silence stretched, thick with something unnamed.
Then, as if to break the rising tension, Dadi's gaze snapped to Shivansh, her tone razor-sharp now.
"Aur tu!! sambhal ke rehna.I want none of your antics this year."
(And you-watch yourself. I'm not in the mood for your chaos this year.)
Shivansh, who had been mid-bite, froze before flashing an innocent grin.
" When have I ever done anything wrong?"
Akansha let out an incredulous laugh. "Would you like a list? I can start with last year and work my way back."
Dadi ignored their banter, her expression firm. "No mischief. No nonsense. This year, I want peace."
Shivansh sighed dramatically but nodded.
Finally,as breakfast came to an end, Dadi turned her attention back to Prakhar, this time carrying something heavier. An unspoken demand. One that did not need words to be understood.Her silence pressing against him-her expectation was clear.
"I want everything to be sorted before," she declared.
Kanak, watching the exchange, smiled knowingly. It was always the same unspoken demand & Prakhar knew it well. But if he felt anything about it, he didn't show it.
Once breakfast ended, Rida, Shivansh, & Akansha stood in unison, ready to leave. But before Rida could step away, Dadi stopped her with a raised hand.
"I think Prakhar should drop you," she said, looking at him pointedly. "After all,Your destination is same."
Prakhar stiffened, the suggestion clearly unwelcome. He wiped his hands, his expression composed but his tone curt. "Dadi, actually, I have to visit the site today. It will take a while. She can go with the driver."
Shivansh, sensing the tension, stepped in effortlessly. "Let's go, Bhabhi. I'll drop you."
Rida offered a soft smile, shaking her head. "That won't be necessary.You both have college. The driver will take me."
Akansha hesitated. "You sure, Bhabhi?"
Rida nodded, picked up her bag from the sofa, and without another word,the three of them walked toward the door
Prakhar didn't look at her.
And Rida didn't expect him to.
************
[ Scene: Washroom - 14th Floor, Rathod Law & Associates, Mahabaleshwar ]
The Rathod Law & Associates wasn't just a facility-it was a statement.The washroom was more five-star luxury than corporate necessity.Floor-to-ceiling mirrors framed in sleek grey marble. sinks flowed like a silent waterfall from sensor taps. The lighting was warm and intentional, set to flatter every skin tone. Even the air smelled like bergamot, leather & expensive litigation.The washroom was fit for royalty and ruthlessness- motion-activated taps that whispered as they flowed, and mirrors tall and wide enough to make anyone feel exposed under their reflection.
It whispered: Only the elite belong here.
And yet, one woman didn't care.
Niyati Sharma stood at the centre basin,sleeves rolled just enough to reveal toned wrists. She was fresh off from Mumbai-to-Mahabaleshwar.
She was based in the Mumbai branch-as a Reporting Agent, handling physical surveillance, and the occasional white-collar mess-ups. The Mahabaleshwar HQ? That wasn't her playground.
This wasn't her assignment originally. Some trusted senior was supposed to hand-deliver the confidential file-but last-minute drama And life loved chaos & Niyati was fluent in it.Chain-of-command confusion had led to her being picked.
A few wisps of her hair clung to her cheeks, loosened from the bun by the humidity and the haste of travel. Her face wasn't powdered perfection. It was real, magnetic. Sharp jawline..Her eyes were lined with dark kajal smudged just enough to make her look dangerous in the best way.They had the intensity of a woman who'd bite if provoked. Not a single part of her tried to blend in with the uptight elegance of the place. She was the walking opposite of subtle.Lips naturally flushed. Her beauty wasn't delicate-it was arresting. The kind that made people curious and intimidated in the same breath.
With an elegant flick of her fingers, she shook droplets off her wrists.The silver ring on her hand catching the light like a warning.She wasn't even using a tissue-just letting them air dry, lazy and elegant.
Her sharp eyes were fixed on her reflection..
And then...
Click. Clack. Giggle. Whisper.
Three associates walked in, heels announcing them before their words did.
A trio of women entered in a chorus of hurried footsteps and whispers. They wore pristine lanyards and anxiety on their sleeves. Their heels clicked nervously on the floor as they walked toward the larger mirror-just behind Niyati.
She didn't turn. But her sharp gaze slid sideways in the mirror, watching them with quiet amusement.
"He was in courtroom mode this morning. You should've seen," one of them whispered, adjusting her lipstick with slightly trembling hands.
"He tore apart Sharma's proposal. Literally. Like, page by page. In front of the entire board," said another, eyes wide.
"That too because it had a single missing signature. He didn't even yell. He just looked at him-that look. I swear, Sharma looked like he was going to cry," third one said..
"That man is terrifying. Doesn't speak unless it's to crush you."
Niyati's lip twitched into a lopsided smile.
"Terrifying, huh?," she whispered to her reflection, voice like warm whiskey and dry sarcasm.
"Sounds like a soap villain with a law degree."
She stared at her own reflection, lips twitching-not with fear.
With amusement.
Niyati hadn't moved the entire time.
Niyati's eyes lifted lazily to meet the mirror, where the women's reflections hovered behind her. They hadn't noticed her yet-or maybe they had, but assumed she was just another accessory to the office.
"You know Mr. Verma? Fifteen years in the firm? He asked a second question after he had already answered once... and now he's on forced vacation."
One woman mimicked the posture-straight spine, dead eyes, jaw locked. They all giggled with thinly veiled panic.
"No wonder they say he's a storm in a suit. Cold, unreadable, and brutal in court."
'Storm in a suit? ' Niyati scoffed
"Poor guy probably smells like privilege and unresolved control issues," she thought to herself.
"I would faint if I had to be in his cabin. He's... he's not human," that same girl said..
She raised an eyebrow at herself clearly unimpressed. While they wiped invisible sweat off their faces, she stood rooted-untouched, unshaken.
"And here I thought only Mumbai landlords were this dramatic."
There was a brief silence, heavy with the weight of that story. And then Niyati tilted her head at her own reflection.
"Honestly though... terrifying or not, the man is unfairly hot," the girl claimed..
"Oh, he is. No doubt," Others agreed..
"That watch... those sleeves rolled halfway, veins on his hands like-ugh. But then you remember that he could get you fired with one raised eyebrow.", one of the drooling kinda girl said..
"Honestly," one said, brushing back her hair and checking her lipstick in the mirror, "he terrifies me. But like... if he looked at me twice, I wouldn't run."
They burst into giggles-nervous ones, the kind you use to survive in shark-infested waters.
Niyati exhaled slowly. Fixed her top.. Looked at herself again.
"But tell me he's not the most sinfully attractive man here." the girl said
"You saw him yesterday, right? That steel-grey three-piece suit? With that matte black watch?Danger never looked that hot,"she continued ..
Their voices mixed like perfume in the air-fear laced with a trace of thirst.
Niyati's eyes stayed locked on her own reflection.
She blinked. Slowly.
Then smirked.
Just a twitch of her lips.
And finally, under her breath, she whispered-not to them, but to herself:
"Bureaucratic narcissists always come with tailored suits and cult-level fear. Classic.
Tch. Must be exhausting being everyone's nightmare fuel all day."
Because in her world, no man-not even Rudra Singh Rathod-got to intimidate her without earning it.
She didn't roll her eyes. She didn't scoff. She simply straightened up, adjusted the corner of her shirt, and dabbed at a damp spot on her wrist.She turned, ignoring the gossiping pair as if they were invisible, and walked out-heels clacking.she strutted toward the exit-her heels echoing like a casual rebellion.
She entered the East Lounge .She was escorted here earlier by one of the staff as directed by his assistant -the kind meant for important but not yet known people. No one here spoke unless necessary.
Dim lighting. Soft gray walls. Dark walnut furniture. Every object in place. Every line sharp.
No paintings. No photos. Just a long shelf with law journals stacked so precisely it looked robotic.
Leather couches, a digital panel flashing firm victories, a glass table with untouched mineral water. Quiet, clinical, intimidating by design.
She returned to her seat where she had been from the past 15 minutes.She casually glanced ahead..
Fifteen minutes of not pacing.Just sitting-legs crossed, a file on her lap, sipping water like she owned it.Somewhere beyond those walls,there was the man with the soul-slicing stare.
"Rudra Singh Rathod," she whispered under her breath, not in fear-
but with a small, almost entertained curiosity.
"A ghost in human form...Stupid legends. 'He's terrifying', 'He's ruthless,' 'He can fire you with a look'...," she thought.
"People talk about you like you're a courtroom Grim Reaper."
"Let's see what all the fan-horror is about."
She rested her head against the backrest.
Her fingers tapped rhythmically on the armrest.
She was about to yawn when a flicker in her peripheral vision made her pause. Her phone hovered mid-air. Her body stiffened.
She turned, and there it was.
There... right by the frosted glass wall... a pair of unblinking golden eyes stared at her.
The coal-black cat gliding like a shadow. It didn't blink. It studied. Like it had seen too many sins to be impressed anymore..
That wasn't a normal cat.
This one shimmered. Its fur gleamed like ink under moonlight, Its eyes golden and glowing unnaturally. The moment their gazes met & Niyati froze.
She looked around. Empty. Nowhere to run. No soul in sight. Just her and this feline demon..
The cat stalked toward her, tail flicking, movements sinuous and predatory.
She panicked.
Without thinking, she screamed, "SHOO!!"
The cat kept paddeding in-graceful, fluffy, majestic... and pure evil.
"WHAT THE-?! "
Her body went stiff, adrenaline spiking.
Niyati whispering to herself, "I've taken down drunk criminals, gotten into elevator fights with drunk CEOs, but this isn't something to deal with ?"
She stood & the cat paused, sniffed it... then hissed.
"Oh Hell Noooo..."
The cat moved.
So did she.
Fast.
She bolted.
Her bracelets clashed wildly on her wrist. Her heels clacked madly-then wobbled. "Damn it!" She kicked them off mid-run. Barefoot and unbalanced, she ran faster, eyes darting for a door, a savior, anything.
"I HAVE DONE NOTHING WRONG IN THIS LIFE!" she wailed, half-crying, half-laughing in pure panic.
Niyati's heart thudded so loud, she thought it might echo off the walls.
She spun, running blindly.Forgetting everything except escape, Niyati raced on- unknowingly smashing through one rule after another.
She thundered through a glass door marked,
"Executive Floor - Authorized Personnel Only."
Behind her, a small red light on the wall blinked and a soft security alarm began pulsing, but Niyati paid it no mind. In her rush she had already skipped the front-desk sign-in, passed through a locked access door, and sent the executive corridor's alert into action - breaking at least three internal protocols without so much as a second thought. All she saw was the black blur of the cat behind her and the office corridor ahead.
At the end of the hall, the corridor opened into a private executive lounge centered around an indoor pool.
And there he stood - RUDRA SINGH RATHOD.
He stood by the pool mid-phone call, utterly oblivious to everything but his conversation.A towering figure - easily over six feet of raw, masculine authority - his physique wasn't just built, it was forged. Wide, broad shoulders carried the effortless dominance of a man born to lead & his chest stretched the crisp, expensive white shirt like it struggled to contain the sheer power beneath.
His sleeves were rolled up, revealing forearms that looked sculpted by war itself - veined, strong, capable. A luxury watch hugged his wrist like a crown worn by royalty, gleaming with silent arrogance as he pressed his phone to his ear, deep in conversation.
Jet-black hair fell just enough to tempt a touch, swaying lightly in the soft morning breeze. Every shift of his body sent ripples of strength down his back - muscles moving in coordinated tension, like a beast leashed by habit, not necessity.
He didn't speak loudly. He didn't need to.
His presence - dangerous, magnetic, and devilishly handsome - filled the space like gravity, pulling eyes to him before he even cared to notice.
The muscles of his back flexed with every movement - sharp, powerful, and rigid - the embodiment of a man who was used to commanding world.. His intense, dangerous aura filled the polished space.
In her blind sprint for salvation, she didn't realize she'd crossed into restricted territory - the boss's private floor, where normal employees weren't allowed to breathe without permission.
She didn't notice the tall figure, standing near the pool's edge, speaking into a phoner.
She noticed only the cat.
Until it was too late.
He turned slowly, phone still pressed to his ear, lips poised mid-sentence.
Niyati, still focused on escaping the cat, didn't see him until the very last second. When she whirled to avoid the cat, her cheek slammed full force into his chest.The crisp cotton of Rudra's shirt pulled tight across his chest, stretching over the unforgiving breadth of muscle like it too struggled to contain him. The fine fabric rippled, caught between the snap of motion and the sculpted force beneath it.
In the instant before they fell, his shirt shifted-flaring open at the collar, baring a glimpse of his toned collarbone glistening under the rising sun.Her nose crinkled at the sharp, icy scent of cologne - crisp, clean, intimidating.Her hair, wild and soft, tangled against his collarbone. Everything seemed to slow in that heartbeat.She felt the hard plane of his ribs under the fabric of his shirt, heard the sharp crack of her cheekbone against him.Rudra's muscles tensed at the unexpected impact - like steel reacting to sudden heat.His phone flew from his hand, spinning midair before splashing into the water with a sickening plop. The impact knocked them both off balance. In that instant, Rudra's arms lunged out to steady himself but only succeeded in grabbing Niyati's shoulder. Momentum of her collision knocked him backward - and gravity did the rest. They tumbled together forward & then
SPLASH!
Both crashed into the pool.
The rippling shockwave of their collision sent ripples across the calm pool and droplets sprayed across the polished marble floor.Water engulfed them instantly.
The shock of cold water enveloped Niyati, knocking the breath out of her.Niyati, who didn't know how to swim, thrashed like a maniac, kicking and flailing her arms, spluttering..She kicked out blindly, gasping when she surfaced - only for a moment - then slipped again, coughing, hands slapping at the water.
He shot up out of the pool like a beast breaking the surface in one powerful motion, water cascading from every inch of his body. First his face-water dripping from the bridge of his nose, jaw tight, eyes dark and unreadable.
Then his shoulders-broad, glistening, rolling with muscle.
"Have you lost your damn mind?" he snarled through clenched teeth, eyes glinting with fury.
His black hair, usually styled with ruthless perfection, clung messily to his forehead, dripping water in angry rivulets down the harsh lines of his jaw.He looked like an ancient Greek god dragged reluctantly from the depths - furious, wet, magnificent - and murderously unimpressed.
His shirt clung to him as his chest broke free,
His crisp white shirt clung to him, showing every chiseled line of muscle on display- soaked and sculpted.. His chest heaved with anger and exertion..
"S-Save-meee-"she gasped, half-choking, water in her mouth, voice broken between coughs and panic.
He didn't sigh. Didn't roll his eyes. He just moved.
Two strokes.
He was beside her, one strong arm wrapped around her waist and hoisting her up from behind. Her back crashed against his chest with a violent splash. Her legs kicked instinctively, slapping water into his face. She flailed more out of stubbornness than survival..
She coughed. Cursed. Clung to him like he was a lifeline and a punching bag at once.
Rudra stared at her. Disbelief. Disgust. Fury.
A nerve ticked at his temple.
His Thoughts about her...
Pathetic. Loud. Clumsy.
"Stop flailing, you fool," he barked.
With effortless strength, he half-lifted her above water,he steered her to the edge like she was a shrieking, water-logged burden.
She heaved, gasping, hair sticking to her cheeks like vines, kicked helplessly.
His Grey eyes burned holes through her.
Niyati stood there, soaked from head to toe, glaring at the equally drenched mountain of a man before her.
The air between them smelled of wet stone, expensive cologne... and rising fury.
He didn't even seem slightly out of breath.
She wiped her forehead clumsily, flicking droplets right onto his expensive watch- a limited edition, of course, without an ounce of regret.
The watch gleamed mockingly - a mark of arrogance on his thick, veined wrist.
"You lack sense. And basic manners," he said flatly with disbelief, flicking water from his wrist like she was some uninvited stain.
"Excuse me? I lack manners?," she started, her voice high-pitched from anger and embarrassment, "What kind of moron stands next to a pool like he's posing for a magazine shoot in a restricted zone?"
"You're noisy. I don't tolerate loud mouths" he stated, every syllable calm, final, & disinterested.
Delivered so flatly, so ruthlessly, they hit harder than a scream.
"And you are-" she began hotly, but he stepped closer.
He didn't wait for a response. His only reaction was a glance - one that assessed her like a malfunctioning object he didn't have time to fix. His body shifted slightly - wet fabric tightening over broad shoulders and a hard chest - every movement calculated, slow, predatory.
"Get out of this wing. And stay out."
"And Who the Hell are you?"
"A spoiled, arrogant fool... the type I hate the most."
He still said notthing.
Neither of them knew, at that moment, that by 1:00 PM, they'd both be sitting across each other in the conference room.
He muttered under his breath.
"Should have left a insolent brat like you to drown."
"Is this how you treat women?!" she spluttered.
"I treat idiots exactly how they deserve," he snapped.
Niyati, never one to take humiliation lying down....
"The audacity!" she squeaked. "You're the idiot! Staring at your reflection in the pool like some self-obsessed maniac!"
For a long, tense second, Niyati's insults hung between them like poison in the air.
Rudra said finally, his voice deep, cold, and calm, the kind of calm that hinted at incoming destruction..
"You should consider yourself very lucky I even bothered to save your worthless self," he said quietly, eyes never leaving hers..Behind her, the soft red security alarm in the corridor blinked ominously, but nobody intervened.
"Oh, excuse me, Mister Standing-In-The-Middle-Of-Nowhere! Maybe you should learn some basic survival instincts. Like moving. Ever heard of that?Moreover You should be feeling honored of colliding with me," she spat, pointing a shaky, dripping finger at him.
He didn't said anything just stared at her with a deadly gazelike calming the storme she welcomed..
"You know what?" she said, voice shaking slightly but fueled by pure rage, "Maybe you are the reason this world needs strict building access rules! To keep strangers like you from lurking around and ruining people's days!"
Stranger.
Rudra Singh Rathod, the owner of the entire damn building, the ruthless mind behind Rathod & Associates, stared at her like she'd lost every marble in her brain.
But she didn't stop.
No.
His cutthroat glares, his height, his soaking powerful aura - none of it deterred her.
She was on a full-blown rant now, hands flying dramatically.
"You're just another rich brat who thinks his time is more valuable than oxygen! This place is for professionals - not lost tourists looking for a modeling audition!"
"Yeah! And judging by that watch," - she pointed accusingly at his gleaming, expensive Rolex - "you're probably compensating for something!"
His Grey eyes sharpened like blades.
"You breached a restricted zone. Violated three internal protocols. And You think a stranger like you can come into my territory...and in" he said, voice dangerously low.
She blinked, confused.
"Your territory?
To Be Continued..
......
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