Aayna's POV
Okay, first of all... I wasn’t even supposed to be at that mall.
Like, seriously. I had zero rupees in my bank account, a pile of assignments waiting to be done, and PMS strong enough to make me commit crimes. But no my genius brain thought, “Let’s go out and breathe some polluted Chennai air for fun.”
So yeah. There I was. In my old jeans, a loose kurti-style top, oily hair tied up in a tragic bun, walking around like I belonged in a sad indie film. First year in college, barely surviving hostel life, trying to mind my own damn business.
And then she happened.
Aarzoo.
She looked rich. Not like regular rich she had that soft, graceful aura like she belonged in a palace and just got lost in a middle-class crowd. And she was pregnant. Eight months, maybe more. Wearing this expensive-looking pastel suit and glowing... but not in a happy, “yay I’m having a baby” way.
More like a “life is chewing me up and I can’t scream” way.
I bumped into her near the food court. Dropped my cheap earrings. Mumbled a sorry.
And she... she just smiled.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. You look more lost than I am.”
I smiled back, not knowing that this random stranger would change everything.
We talked. A little that day. More over the next few weeks. Somehow we kept running into each other outside the mall, at the bus stand near my college, even at this tiny temple I visit on Mondays. It started feeling... weirdly comforting. Like I’d known her forever.
Until one night. Late night.
We sat on the steps outside her car (yes, her car, with a damn driver and AC seats), and she just... opened up.
She told me everything.
About the man she married.
How he destroyed her from the inside out. Hit her. Controlled her. Spoke sweetly in public but spit poison in private. And how no on literally no one had the guts to touch him.
Except one man.
Her brother.
The eldest of five. 35 years old. The kind of man who doesn’t exist in real life. You won’t find his name in newspapers or Instagram bios. He’s not tagged in family pictures. But he is the shadow that makes people shut up mid-sentence.
And guess what?
He killed that man. Aarzoo’s husband. Not with warning shots or drama.
No. He ended him.
Quietly. Brutally. Like the monster that he is... or the protector she needed.
The more she talked about him, the more it sent chills down my spine. He wasn’t just her brother. He was the brother. The king of their world. Born into money, power, legacy... and no morals.
And me?
I was just a broke, chubby, awkward first-year girl who got caught in the wrong conversation.
Or maybe the right one.
Because Aarzoo’s youngest brother the one she said had a big mouth and a soft heart?
Yeah. He’s in my college. In my class.
And her eldest?
He doesn't even know I exist.
But fate? Fate’s messy. And it’s already writing my name in his story.
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Only His✔️
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