Last night’s encounter with Gayatri Rathore had left Naira in turmoil. The uncertainty gnawed at her—was she making the right decision? Should she accept the alliance or walk away?
Pushing aside her restless thoughts, she focused on the decorators in the verandah, ensuring every detail was perfect. The vibrant drapes, the floral arrangements, the twinkling lights—everything needed to be flawless.
Just as she was approving a set of decorations, her gaze landed on two familiar figures descending into the verandah.
Rudransh. Natasha.
A strange feeling settled in her chest as she watched them step out together, engaged in a conversation.
"Ma’am, what do you think about this one?"
Snapping out of her trance, she turned back to the decorator, composing herself. She had no time for distractions.
°°°
Ishita descended the stairs and smiled, watching her younger sister run around, busy with preparations. The haveli buzzed with energy—everyone was engaged in something or the other.
Leaning against a pillar, arms crossed, she took in the scene. A wave of emotions washed over her, unbidden and unexpected.
Her gaze wandered, searching, until it found the one person who mattered the most—Veeranshu Rathore.
The moment their eyes met, a shiver ran down her spine. Goosebumps. A tingling sensation. A feeling she couldn't quite name.
For two years, their alliance had been nothing but an arrangement. But somewhere along the way, her feelings had grown. What had once been a quiet acceptance had turned into something far deeper, far more consuming.
She smiled, warmth blooming in her heart at the thought of becoming his wife.
But then there was Veeranshu himself. His actions, his distance—it all planted seeds of doubt. Had she made the right decision in accepting this marriage? Would she ever truly be happy with him?
Pushing away the uncertainty, she took a deep breath. No one knew what the future held, but she was ready to embrace whatever came her way.
°°°
The lively atmosphere of the haveli was disrupted by the sudden, rhythmic beating of dhols. The steady drumroll caught everyone's attention, pulling them toward the verandah.
Four unknown men entered, their dhols echoing through the open space. The beat quickened, building anticipation, before slowing down as another figure stepped forward, his back facing the gathering.
As the dhols faded into the background, the figure finally turned around.
Some gasped in confusion. Others broke into smiles.
"Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Avyukt Mehera is here!" He spread his arms dramatically, his signature mischievous grin in place.
Avyukt Mehera—self-made billionaire, business magnate, and an absolute drama king.
The Rajput family shook their heads fondly as he dashed toward the elders, seeking blessings and exchanging warm hugs.
Now, it was time to face the Rajput sisters.
