Shivansh Raghuvanshi x Isha Maheshwari
"I don't believe in this shit, do not accept anything from me, i don't have time to waste no this shit called love, you have time u can say no. "
"YOU ARE MINE GET THIS IN YOUR BRAIN
YOU ARE FUVKING MINE JAAN...
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Author's POV
At Raghuvanshi palace, Delhi Saturday; when they arrived..
The grandiose palace in the heart of Delhi stood like a relic from another era, its towering domes and intricately carved pillars a testimony to centuries of regal dominance. It wasn't just a palace-it was an emblem of power, a silent yet imposing reminder of the Raghuvanshi dynasty's long-standing legacy.
Shivansh stepped out of the sleek black car that had brought them from the Airport, his polished shoes clicking against the pristine marble driveway. The palace staff hurried to greet them, bowing with reverence, but Shivansh merely waved them off, his expression cold and impassive.
This wasn't a vacation for him. It was an interruption-a distraction from his meticulously planned schedule. While his family buzzed with excitement about their short trip and the upcoming dinner with their friends, Maheshwari family, Shivansh had only agreed to accompany them out of obligation. He was the eldest son, the figurehead of their lineage, and the expectations that came with the title demanded his presence. It didn't mean he had to enjoy it.
" Shivansh, at least try to look like you're here willingly, " his older brother, his best friend, Ranveer teased, falling into step beside him as they entered the grand hall.
Shivansh shot him a glance, his dark eyes sharp and unamused. " I am here just because Maa insisted And you know very well that I can't ignore Maa's words, and then Dadi-sa has also made up her mind to get me married to her. So, I had no choice but to come. " he replied curtly. " Let's not pretend this is anything more than a social obligation. "
The palace smelled of aged wood and sandalwood incense, a scent that Shivansh associated with his childhood but felt no attachment to. He had outgrown these walls years ago, trading the comfort of familial tradition for the cold, hard pursuit of financial empire-building. Jaipur had been his starting point, but his ambitions were global. This palace, no matter how opulent, was merely a backdrop for fleeting visits-a resting ground before the next big deal.
As the family settled in, Shivansh retreated to his private quarters, brushing off his mother's suggestion to join them for tea in the courtyard. The massive suite, with its high ceilings and vintage décor, was undeniably luxurious, yet Shivansh found it stifling. He loosened the collar of his crisp white shirt, poured himself a glass of water from the silver pitcher on the side table, and sat by the window. The city of Delhi sprawled before him, bustling with life and opportunities-a stark contrast to the quiet isolation of his palace.
He wasn't here to indulge in family nostalgia or rekindle bonds with the Sharma family, despite their long-standing friendship. His focus remained sharp, his priorities clear. Even now, as he watched the city come alive under the morning sun, his mind raced with calculations, strategies, and economic forecasts. The dinner tomorrow was another chore, another series of polite conversations he'd have to endure while silently planning his next venture.
