Chapter 10 Shivers And Shadows
The moment Shobha Ma’am sees Samar, her expression hardens. Anger flashes in her eyes.
Samar looks slightly shocked to find his two sisters sitting beside their mother but only for a second. He connects the dots instantly.
So they told Mom everything, he thinks. He walks inside without a word. Mrs. Shobha steps forward, glaring at him.
He meets her gaze briefly, then calmly sits down on the sofa. That’s when her restraint snaps.
“How dare you?” she shouts. “You got married without telling anyone? What do you think of yourself?”
Samar exhales slowly. He gently takes her hand and guides her to sit beside him. “Mom… whatever happened, it happened because of a deal,” he says evenly.
Then he explains everything the deal with Mr. Shekhawat, the conditions, and how I became part of it all.
When he finishes, Shobha Ma’am laughs but there is no humor in it. Only sarcasm and disbelief.
“Well played, Mr. Shekhawat,” she says bitterly. “The great businessman Samar Rajput got outsmarted.”
Samar looks at her, confused. “What do you mean?”
She looks straight at him. “Ishani is the same girl you were promised to when you were children. This marriage was decided long ago.”
My breath catches. Samar freezes. Slowly, he turns toward me. His eyes aren’t soft. They’re burning with anger, shock, wounded pride.
Then Shobha Ma’am straightens, her motherly authority taking over completely.
“And tell me,” she snaps, “why were you making my daughter-in-law do housework?”
Samar shrugs lightly. “Nothing serious. I was just testing what Mr. Shekhawat taught her.”
Her patience ends there.
“Samar, you’re coming home with us,” she says firmly. “Otherwise, I’m taking my daughter-in-law with me no questions asked.”
He studies her face, realizes she means every word, and to everyone’s shock, nods. “Okay, Mom. Let’s go.”
Neeti and Ruhi stare at him, stunned. This man never agrees so easily. Never. Yet today he does. As he walks outside, he says calmly, “I’ll wait in the car.”
Mrs. Shobha watches him leave and mutters, “Trying to understand this boy is impossible.”
Neeti smiles softly and takes my hand. “Let’s go, Sister-in-law.”
All four of us step outside and get into the car. Samar drives in silence. He doesn’t say a single word during the entire ride. But I notice his eyes in the mirror red, Controlled. Hurting.
The sun breaks through scattered clouds as a luxurious private jet touches down on the runway. Activity ripples through the airport. Staff, security, and VIP onlookers turn in unison.
The jet door opens. A tall, striking man steps out his presence commanding silence.
He stands around 6'2". Blue eyes hidden behind black sunglasses. Broad shoulders. Chiseled jaw. Power written in every line of his posture.
He wears a fitted grey shirt paired with tailored black trousers. A black blazer rests casually in one hand like a man stepping out of danger, or straight into it.
Two bodyguards follow closely, sharp in black suits, eyes alert. He walks toward the VIP exit without looking around. Every step is controlled. Dominant. Unrushed.
Outside, a massive black SUV waits.
The driver opens the door. The man pauses briefly, scanning his surroundings confirming something silently then slides into the back seat. The bodyguards follow.
The SUV speeds away. Soon, another black SUV stops before a grand iron gate. The gates open slowly, revealing a palatial estate.
The car enters and halts at the entrance. The door opens. The same powerful man steps out. Without hesitation, he walks straight inside.
In the grand hall of the haveli, Mr. Shekhawat sitting with an air of authority. He’s elderly, yet striking, dressed in a crisp white kurta-pajama. His eyes hold depths.
Footsteps echo across the marble floor, and a soft smile spreads across his face. He doesn’t need to look, These footsteps they can only be Shorya’s, he thinks.
Shorya enters, his presence sharp yet controlled, He touches his father’s feet before sitting beside him. There’s a grace about him, even in obedience.
“How are you, Shorya?”
Shorya gives a faint smile. “I’m fine, Dad. How are you?”
Mr. Shekhawat chuckles. “What could possibly be wrong with me, son? I’m doing well. But tell me, how’s business going? Come, let me show you a few papers.”
He hands Shorya a file. “The deal with the Malhotra Group in London is finalized,” Shorya says, flipping the last page. “So who’s the next meeting with?”
“Your next meeting is with your Sister.” Mr. Shekhawat replies.
Shorya freezes at the mention of my name. His face stiffens, but he masks it quickly.
“I don’t want to meet her,” he says coldly. “That girl means nothing to me. Please, Dad… don’t bring her up again. I hate her.”
I flinch slightly, though he doesn’t look my way. My father’s face tenses. “Shorya…!” he says firmly.
Before anything else can happen, Shorya storms out of the room.
Soon, Mrs. Shobha, I, Neeti, Ruhi, and Samar step into the grand Rajput Villa. The silence is heavy, tension thick in the air.
I glance at Vihaan, seated on the sofa, absorbed in some files. When he notices Samar, anger sparks in his eyes. He closes the file sharply, stands, and I feel the room pulse with the unspoken rivalry.
Samar remains calm, eyes locked on Vihaan’s with a quiet intensity. I watch nervously, not understanding fully what is unfolding. Neeti and Ruhi exchange worried glances, sweat trickling down Ruhi’s temple.
Mrs. Shobha gently takes Samar’s hand, guiding him toward the sofa. She sits him down, her eyes soft, bringing a sense of calm I can’t quite explain. I instinctively sit beside him, feeling the gentle warmth of her hand guiding mine.
“The moment you stepped into this house,” Mrs. Shobha whispers to me, “my Samar returned with you.”
I blink, overwhelmed, unsure of what to say. The weight of the moment presses on me, and I stay silent out of respect.
Mrs. Shobha looks at me, her eyes soft. “Ishani, meet him. This is my elder son Samar’s older brother, Vihaan.”
I offer a polite smile. Vihaan glances briefly, then turns away, indifferent. Mrs. Shobha continues, “Vihaan, this is Ishani, Samar’s wife.”
My heart skips a beat. Vihaan’s gaze lands on me for a moment, and then he walks away without a word. I feel my chest tighten, but I force a small smile, reminding myself not to take it to heart.