We were in his room, not a single ounce of tension, no heaviness, just a strange kind of comfort that felt like home. A comfort both of us had been aching for, maybe unknowingly, all day.
He didn't say a word, didn't try to fill the silence. And I… I moved around the house like I belonged there. Like a queen. His queen.
Touching little things. Looking at the books he read, the mugs he left half full. He just watched, silently. He liked seeing me there. Like watching me exist in his world was enough. And honestly?
Existing in his space, without needing permission, felt more intimate than a thousand love confessions.
"It's been a month since I was kidnapped," I said.
Still not used to the shift in my reality, I glanced around and asked him, "Why do you let me roam around this huge mansion like I'm the queen here?"
He didn't respond. His eyes were glued to his phone, scrolling—distant, distracted.
"Hey!" I waved my hand in front of his face. No reaction. That annoyed me. So I did what any rational hostage would do: I snatched his phone.
"What are you even looking at? Is it more important than me?"
I had started stepping back, expecting him to laugh or smirk, but instead, "Reha, give me my phone." His tone was clipped. Sharp. Not like usual.
"Not until you answer me."
"What question?" he scoffed. "You're a hostage here, not some queen."
He yanked the phone back from my hand. The coldness in his eyes stung a little. I took a breath and asked the one thing that had been living in my chest like a stone:
"Then why haven't you sold me to someone already?" My voice was firm, but it wasn't bravery. It was heartbreak wrapped in sarcasm.
I wanted him to crack. To say he couldn't sell me. To say he loved me. To prove my foolish heart wasn't hallucinating.
Instead, he replied with the one answer that made the walls close in: "Because I've already signed a contract. In three days, he'll take you. Then my job will be easier."
I froze. I shouldn't have been surprised… but it still hit me like a slap.
"You've taken care of me like…" I paused, choosing not to finish that sentence. Like a husband would his wife. And now… this?
Fine. If he could play cold, I'd play cruel.
I forced a smirk. "In your dreams, Ved. Because any minute now, my boyfriend will show up and save me from this ridiculous mansion and your melodrama."
I had barely finished the sentence when he closed the space between us.
His arm wrapped around my waist, tight. So tight that even air had no space to breathe. He leaned in, mouth brushing my ear.
"I'll kill him before he gets here."
My skin turned ice.
He didn't say it like a threat. He said it like a promise. And not because that man would ruin Ved's plan, but because the idea of letting me go broke something in him.
I looked into his eyes. His rage was not rooted in power. It was grief. Longing. And possessiveness that even he didn't understand.
In the silence that followed, I did what I knew he wouldn't. I grabbed his collar. And I kissed him.
Like it was my last moment. Like the world would end if I didn't. Like every day in that mansion had only led to this.
He didn't kiss me back. But he didn't move either. He just stood there, like his soul had been craving my touch, but something inside was holding him back.
What was it?
Was he scared? Was it guilt? Or was he punishing himself… because loving me wasn't part of the plan?
He took me into a room I had never seen before. It was different from the rest of the mansion, untouched, almost frozen in time. Dust coated the furniture like a forgotten memory, and silence hung in the air as though no one had dared to set foot inside it for years.
Ved walked ahead without saying a word.I followed, unsure whether I was allowed to… unsure if I was supposed to be here.
The lights came on with a soft click, and that's when I saw it. A massive painting mounted on the far wall. A woman's face stared back at me from the canvas. Graceful. Strong. Warm. Sad.
I stopped in my tracks, my breath caught somewhere between memory and disbelief.I whispered, barely able to form the words."Ved… is this your mom?"
He nodded, quietly. "Yeah."
Something about her felt familiar… hauntingly so.
And then—like a flash of lightning through the dark—I remembered."I know her," I said aloud.
He turned to me, confused. "What?"
"I know her, Ved… When I was young, I got lost in the woods. I was on a vacation with my family in Darjeeling. I must've been six or seven… scared, crying. And then she found me. She took care of me until the forest rangers found us."
Ved stared at me. "You went to Darjeeling?"
"Yes."
He looked away for a moment. His jaw clenched.
"That's where I spent most of my childhood," he said, voice hollow."We weren't rich then…One day, something happened… something because of me.And that's how she died."
My heart twisted."I'm so sorry," I whispered.
He didn't respond immediately. Instead, he took a deep breath, his voice low and full of weight.
"That day, I made a promise…That I'd never be weak again. That I'd build a world where no one could hurt me, or the people I care about, ever again."
A lump formed in my throat.I didn't know what to say.So I asked softly, "Ved… can I see my phone? Please… I want to show you something. I swear, I'll open it in front of you."
He hesitated. But then, with a sigh, he took my phone out of his pocket and handed it to me.
I scrolled through my gallery and finally found the photo. I held the screen up to him.
"Look. That's her—your mom. And this little girl… that's me, Reha."
His eyes widened.He leaned closer, disbelief written all over his face."You're serious? This boy reha it`s me." ved said.
I smiled through my tears. "Yes. Can you believe it? We're… we're destined, Ved."
He didn't smile. Not immediately. But I saw something flicker in his eyes, recognition. Connection. Pain. Peace.
"You know," I said, "just before my wedding… I looked at this very picture. I prayed. I didn't know why. But I did.And then… You came. You showed up in my life."
Ved's voice was barely a whisper."It's destiny," he said.
I looked around and noticed a candle stand in the corner.There were candles and a box of matches placed nearby—old, but unused.
Without asking, I walked over, lit a candle, and placed it gently in front of the painting.
And then I smiled, looked up at her picture, and whispered,"Aunty… why is your son so stubborn? I mean—was he always like this?"
Ved turned his head away with a faint smirk, as if hiding a storm inside.
For the first time, that room didn't feel haunted anymore.It felt like home.