An Alliance Of Love

9. Pehli Rasoi

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Ranveer's POV

When I stepped into my study, the weight of the day's events pressed heavily on me. The room, dimly lit, seemed smaller than usual, suffocating almost. I picked up the phone to call Suraj, desperate for an update on Harshvardhan Maheshwari. After the pooja, I was certain everything should be in place.

"Suraj, what's the situation?" I asked, my voice cold and sharp, betraying the storm of emotions I was trying to suppress.

There was a pause on the other end, and it only fueled my impatience.

"Boss... Maheshwari escaped. The trap failed. Fifteen of our men are injured-seriously."

I froze. How could this be possible? The plan had been flawless, a perfect execution-or so I had thought. Every move had been calculated, every risk considered. Yet somehow, Maheshwari had slipped through, not only escaping but also expanding his forces.

My grip tightened on the phone, anger flaring up inside me. How had he gotten wind of it? My thoughts raced, and frustration took over. The air felt thick with failure, and the walls of the study seemed to close in around me.

Just then, my phone rang again. I glanced at the screen-unknown number. Still reeling from the news, I picked up the call, my voice harsher than intended.

"Kaisa laga, Ranveer Singh Rathore? Pehli baar haar ka swad chakh ke? Aadat daal lo," a voice sneered on the other end. Before I could even react, the call ended abruptly.

I stared at the phone in disbelief, anger surging within me. Harshvardhan Maheshwari, waiting for this exact moment to taunt me. My frustration boiled over, but the phone rang again before I could process it. This time, the name flashed across the screen-Nilesh Rajput.

I didn't want to speak to him, not now, but I answered, knowing I had to.

"Hello, damad ji, kaise hain aap?" Nilesh's voice dripped with smugness, immediately igniting the fire in me.

"Don't call me that," I snapped, trying to rein in my anger.

"Chaliye, theek hai. Kaam ki baat pe aate hain," he continued casually. "Ab jaise ki aapki aur Adira ki shaadi ho gayi hai, toh humara bhi kuch part banta hai."

A sharp confusion cut through my rage. "What are you talking about?" I asked, my voice strained.

"Ab hume aapse thoda favor chahiye. 10% ki partnership kaisi rahegi? Ab ladki ki shaadi karayi hai, itna haq toh banta hai, aapse rishta jo juda hai." His words hit me like a punch, and suddenly, I understood. This marriage wasn't just about Adira. It was about power. Control.

"Listen, Mr. Rajput, aisa kuch nahi hone wala," I said, my voice cold, almost shaking with anger.

"Arre nahi, damad ji. Aapke papa se baat hui hai. Wo aapko sab bata denge." With that, the call ended.