Vedant knocked on the door softly, and moments later, it creaked open.
Ojasvi appeared, her small frame just barely visible through the gap. Her eyes flickered nervously when she saw him standing there.
"Yes?" she asked in a hesitant tone, avoiding direct eye contact. Her nervousness was apparent, and Vedant couldn’t help but feel guilty for the predicament they were both in.
"I need to talk to you," Vedant said, his voice firm but unintentionally commanding. He noticed how she stiffened at his tone, stepping aside to let him into the room.
As he entered, his eyes were drawn to the bandages on her feet and knees, reminders of the traumatic ordeal she had been through.
She looked fragile, standing there with her hands fidgeting nervously. The sight of her standing with those injuries made his frown deepen.
“Ojasvi, sit down,” he instructed gently, trying to soften his tone this time. “Your feet are still hurt; you shouldn’t be standing.”
She hesitated briefly but then complied, slowly lowering herself onto the edge of the bed.
Vedant grabbed a chair from the corner and pulled it up directly in front of her, sitting down so they were at eye level.
The close proximity made her visibly more uncomfortable, but she sat quietly, waiting for him to speak.
"Ojasvi," he began, leaning forward slightly. "Look at me."
She reluctantly lifted her gaze to meet his, her wide eyes filled with apprehension.
"Listen to me carefully," Vedant said, his voice calm but serious. "First of all, I want to apologize for what I’m about to say. I know this is not what you expected—none of this is. My dadisa wants us to make this marriage work, and I’ve tried to reason with her, but she’s not listening."
He paused, watching as Ojasvi listened intently, her brows furrowing slightly at the mention of his grandmother.
"I need to know," he continued, his eyes searching hers, "do you want to try to make this work? Do you want to be with me? I’ll respect your decision either way. If you choose not to, I’ll talk to my dadisa again, and I promise I won’t let anyone pressure you. You won’t be put in any difficult situation. But I need to know what you want. What’s your answer?"
There was a long silence as she processed his words. Her gaze dropped to her hands, which were tightly clutching the hem of her dress.
She seemed lost in thought, trying to piece together what she wanted, what was right for her.
“Can I… can I think about it?” she asked quietly, her voice soft but steady.
Vedant nodded, his expression neutral but his eyes understanding. “Of course,” he replied. “Don’t feel any pressure, okay? It’s your choice. No matter what happens, I’ll make sure you’re not forced into anything.”
Just as he was about to continue, his phone rang. He glanced at the screen, seeing one of his men calling. He sighed, standing up from his seat.
“You take your time to think, and come down for dinner at 9 p.m.,” he instructed, his voice gentle now. “And remember, don’t let your wounds get wet.”
With that, he left the room, pulling the phone from his pocket as he walked into the hallway.
"Hello?" he answered coldly, his voice returning to its usual commanding tone.
"Sir, the work has been done, and Raj has been caught. He’s in the basement now," the man on the other end of the line reported.
Vedant’s lips curled slightly in satisfaction. The village had been dealt with, and Raj was now in their custody. Good.
"Well done," he replied curtly. "Take two days off for your team. I’ll be at the basement shortly."
He hung up the phone and headed toward his bade papa’s study to inform him about Raj’s capture.
After a brief conversation, where his bade papa nodded in approval, Vedant left the house, his mind already shifting gears from family issues to handling Raj.
The drive to the main base was quiet, giving Vedant time to reflect on the bizarre and chaotic turn his life had taken.
The thought of Ojasvi, sitting there in that room, injured and confused, weighed on him. He was used to handling complicated situations—businesses, rivalries, even criminal dealings—but this?
This was personal, and it involved emotions, something he wasn’t used to navigating.
As the car approached the isolated building, his expression hardened. He parked and walked towards the entrance with purpose, entering the facility where they handled "business."
The basement was dimly lit, and the air felt thick with tension. Raj was waiting for him, and Vedant was more than ready to deal with the man who had caused so much chaos.
The guards opened the door to the interrogation room, and Vedant stepped inside. Raj sat there, tied to a chair, looking bruised and disheveled, his eyes filled with fear as they locked onto Vedant’s cold, calculating gaze.
"You made a mistake, Raj," Vedant said, his voice icy as he circled the chair. "And now, you’re going to pay for it."
The room fell silent, save for the sound of Vedant’s shoes tapping against the concrete floor.
He was no longer the man who had gently spoken to Ojasvi just moments ago. Here, he was Vedant Singhania—the man no one crossed without facing severe consequences.
