Sacred Games Of Twisted Fate {18+}

*DEVRANI vsJETHANI*

***author's pov***

With Arjun and Rudra heading to the office and Daksh off to his college camp in the Andaman and Nicobar Islands, the Oberoi mansion was left in the hands of the women.

A tense silence settled over the house. Aayara moved about quietly, still adjusting to the suffocating weight of her new reality. The aftermath of her wedding night and Arjun's taunts haunted her, and even now, in the daylight, the house felt as stifling as ever.

Dia, meanwhile, was seething with a mix of anger and frustration. She had her eyes on Rudra, but his cold demeanor and constant attention toward Aayara burned her up inside. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Aayara was the cause of all her misery. Watching Aayara in the house only fanned the flames of her jealousy.

Meera, always the calculating one, observed both women. She was pleased with Dia, her chosen daughter-in-law, but Aayara's presence annoyed her. She couldn’t understand why Arjun, despite being married to her, still seemed so detached, and that didn’t sit well with her.

In the kitchen, Dia and Aayara found themselves in the same space, the unspoken tension crackling between them. Aayara, ever quiet, focused on her tasks, trying to avoid any confrontation. Dia, on the other hand, couldn’t hold back anymore.

"So," Dia said, her voice cold and cutting, "enjoying your life as Arjun's wife, huh?"

Aayara paused for a moment, feeling Dia’s eyes boring into her back. She didn’t respond, keeping her attention on the food she was preparing.

Dia scoffed, walking closer. "You’re silent now, but I see through you. Don’t think I don’t notice how you still act innocent, how you pretend like you’re the victim here. But we both know you’re not."

Aayara’s grip tightened on the spoon she held, her body tensing at Dia’s harsh words.

"And Rudra," Dia continued, her voice growing angrier, "he’s still watching you, isn’t he? You think I don’t see it? He doesn’t love me because of you. You’ve ruined everything!"

Aayara bit her lip, refusing to engage, knowing anything she said would only make things worse. She continued with her work, silently enduring Dia’s accusations, just like she endured everything else.

The house, despite its grandeur, felt heavy with unresolved tensions, and Aayara knew that as long as they were all under one roof, peace would be nothing more than an illusion.

Dia took the hot cup of tea and splashed it on AAYARA hand .

Aayara gasped in pain as the hot tea splashed onto her hand, scalding her skin. She instinctively dropped the spoon she was holding and pulled her hand close, her eyes watering from the burning sensation.

Dia stood there with a twisted smile, watching Aayara's reaction, her satisfaction barely hidden behind her cruel expression. "Oops," she said mockingly. "You should be more careful. This is my kitchen now, remember?"

Aayara’s eyes filled with tears, not just from the physical pain but from the emotional weight of the situation. She bit her lip, refusing to give Dia the satisfaction of seeing her break down. Without saying a word, she turned to run cold water over her burned hand, feeling the sting intensify as the cool water hit her skin.

"Playing the victim again, aren't you?" Dia sneered, folding her arms across her chest. "You may have trapped Arjun, but don't think you'll get any sympathy from me. You're just as weak and pathetic as I always thought."

Aayara stayed silent, the sound of the water running and the throbbing pain in her hand drowning out Dia’s cruel words. She knew there was no point in arguing, no point in defending herself. The world around her was crumbling, and all she could do was endure.

As Dia turned on her heel and left the kitchen with an air of superiority, Aayara stood by the sink, letting her tears fall silently. Each drop felt like another piece of her spirit breaking, but she knew she couldn’t give up. Not yet. Not when she still had to survive in this hostile house.

Aayara wiped away her tears quickly as Meera walked into the kitchen, her heart sinking even further at the sight of her mother-in-law. Meera's cold eyes scanned the room before landing on the tea spilled on the floor.

Meera scoffed, her lips curling into a disdainful smile. "What a ridiculous woman you are, Aayara," she said with a mocking tone. "You're not even capable of handling a simple kitchen, and now this mess. Clean it up."

Aayara opened her mouth to speak, but Meera raised a hand to silence her. "No excuses. And just so you know, I've dismissed the servants. Why would I need them when I have two daughters-in-law now?" she smirked, clearly enjoying Aayara’s discomfort. She grabbed her coffee cup from the counter, shooting a final look of disdain at Aayara before turning on her heel and leaving the kitchen.

Aayara stood there, her hand still throbbing from the burn and her heart heavy with humiliation. She knelt down slowly, beginning to clean the spilled tea from the floor, her thoughts numb as the weight of her situation pressed down on her. She was trapped, with no one to lean on, forced to endure the cruelty of her new family in silence.

Aayara looked up at Mehak, her eyes still glossy with unshed tears, as Mehak's carefree voice filled the kitchen. "Bhabhi, bhabhi, I want something delicious for lunch for my camp! Prepare it, okay?" Mehak said, her tone casual as if she hadn’t noticed Aayara's pain.

Mehak glanced at Aayara’s burned hand and shrugged dismissively. "It's not a big burn anyway," she added, brushing it off as though it were nothing.

Aayara forced a small, tired smile, hiding the deep ache she felt. "Okay, Mehak. I'll prepare something for you." She winced as she moved her hand, the burn still stinging, but she knew she had no choice but to keep going.

Mehak didn’t seem to notice the strain in her voice, already excited about the food she wanted. She quickly rattled off a list of her favorite dishes before running out of the kitchen again, leaving Aayara standing there, alone with her pain.

Taking a deep breath, Aayara turned back to the stove, her hands trembling slightly as she began preparing Mehak's lunch, pushing through the burn in her hand and the even deeper burn in her heart.