William patted the sofa beside him gently, his movements deliberate and inviting, creating space in the cocoon of cushions for her to settle close. The room's soft lamplight cast warm shadows across his face, softening the sharp lines of his usual intensity. He turned to her, his striking green eyes—deep and piercing like shadowed emeralds—holding a rare hesitation, a flicker of vulnerability that mirrored her own turmoil. "You can trust me, you know," he murmured, voice low and steady, laced with quiet urgency. "Tell me what happened. Why are you so sad? You've been carrying this alone too long."Payal hesitated, her heart pounding with the weight of secrets and fears accumulated from the day's chaos—Yuri's intrusive beauty, Julian's explosive rage, Asra's haunting visions, and the ever-present shadow of the novel's it's giving her headache and the unchangeable plot. Swallowing hard, she shifted, boldly placing her head on his lap as she stretched out along the sofa, her body seeking the comfort of his solid warmth. She stared up at the ornate ceiling, tracing the intricate carvings of vines and stars with her gaze, avoiding his eyes entirely. Doubts swirled in her mind: Could she truly confide in him without fracturing the brothers' already fragile bonds? Would it effect their bound or , Would revealing Julian's command ignite more jealousy, or draw William into the fray? The mansion's distant creaks and the faint scent of lingering dinner spices amplified her isolation, reminding her of her minor role—powerless observer in a villains' saga.Gathering her courage from the depths of her resolve, Payal finally spoke, her voice a fragile thread barely holding back the tears threatening to spill. "Julian told me to stay away from Asra," she confessed, the words tumbling out in a controlled whisper, each syllable heavy with restrained sobs. She clenched her fists in her lap, nails digging into palms to anchor herself, refusing to meet his gaze—not once—as shame and confusion burned in her chest. The revelation hung between them, raw and electric, stirring memories of stolen intimacies: Asra's precognitive pleas, Julian's playful hugs turned cold, William's steady presence now her sole harbor.William's hand stilled on her hair for a heartbeat, his green eyes darkening with a storm of emotions—surprise, protectiveness, and a simmering anger toward his brother that he masked with gentle fingers resuming their soothing strokes. The air thickened with unspoken implications: Julian's bloodshot rage after the study confrontation, the growing rift fueled by their father's machinations and Yuri's soft, tempting presence downstairs. Payal's tears escaped despite her efforts, tracing silent paths down her temples into her hair, her body trembling under the burden of divided loyalties. She felt exposed, yet strangely unburdened—trusting William meant risking everything, but in this vulnerable pose, head pillowed on his lap, she sensed a turning point. Perhaps her "minor character" fate wasn't sealed; confiding could weave her deeper into their world, altering trajectories in ways the novel never foresaw. William leaned down slightly, his breath warm against her forehead, silently promising he'd unravel the knots with her, no matter the cost.The moment stretched, intimate and charged, a fragile respite amid the mansion's brewing tempests—Julian's vanished fury echoing somewhere in the halls, Asra's absence a looming question, Yuri's unknown distant threat. Payal closed her eyes at last, allowing herself to lean into the solace, her doubts easing fractionally under William's unwavering gaze.
William lingered in the hushed intimacy of the room, his fingers still tracing idle patterns through Payal's hair as her breathing deepened into the steady rhythm of sleep. The weight of her confession—Julian's harsh command to stay away from Asra—hung heavy in the air, Today he is taking about Asra, Tomorrow if he says Payal to stey away from me the stirring a protective fury within him that he kept tightly leashed. Her face, softened in repose, bore the faint traces of dried tears, her vulnerability a stark contrast to the chaos engulfing the mansion: Yuri's enigmatic arrival, the brothers' escalating rivalries, and the novel's prophetic shadows that Payal seemed to sense but never fully voiced.
William's heart ached with a rare tenderness; in her, he saw not just a wife bound by duty, but a fragile light amid their darkening world. He never thought caring about someone but Payal making him hard to stey awey , Sensing the subtle shift—her body fully relaxed, lashes unmoving against her cheeks—William moved with exquisite care. He gently scooped her into his arms, this is the first time he holding her close cradling her as if she were spun glass, her head nestling instinctively against his chest. The sofa's cushions sighed in relief as he rose, carrying her across the moonlit room to the canopied bed. He laid her down feather-light, tucking the silken sheets around her shoulders and brushing a stray lock from her forehead with a lingering touch. For a moment, he simply watched, his green eyes—usually sharp and commanding—softening with unspoken promises of safeguarding her from the storms he knew were brewing.But then, a chill rippled through him, unbidden and electric. His green eyes shifted, deepening to an ethereal greenish-blue hue, like ocean depths stirred by hidden currents. It was his power awakening—an innate sensitivity to impending threats, a supernatural intuition that hummed in his veins like a warning bell. Signals flooded his senses: a surge of dark energy pulsing from the lower halls, whispers of betrayal tied to their father's sudden imposition of Yuri, and a sharper spike—Julian's rage boiling over somewhere in the shadows, laced with something more sinister, perhaps tied to Asra's precognitive visions fracturing their fragile unity. Danger loomed, not just emotional fractures but something visceral, life is twisting toward violence or external intrusion. William's jaw clenched; It's not that he never see violence but he couldn't stay still, not with this alarm blaring in his soul. Payal's safety demanded action—scouting the mansion's perimeter, confronting whatever shadows stalked their home,
or intercepting Julian before his fury ignited irreparable damage.With a final, reluctant glance at her peaceful form, William stepped back. In the blink of an eye, he vanished—disappearing into thin air without a sound or trace, the space where he stood empty save for a faint ripple in the air like heat haze over stone. No footsteps echoed, no door creaked; his supernatural departure left the room in profound silence, the bed's occupant undisturbed in her dreams. Downstairs, the mansion stirred with unseen undercurrents distant corridors, Julian's muffled curses getting louder and louder, how dare she , how can she choose someone over me, Julian busy screaming, but he noticed presens, he rolled his red eyes which is glowing in the dark night,
How you come here , Don't you steying with Payal,
Listen Julian you need to accept that she is our wife not just your's. What wrong with you? Why are you hearting her,
Don't you present there when Asra said he didn't want to marry her now why, he is acting all possesive and caring for her.
,in other hand Asra's restless pacing under starlight—while William and Julian materialized in the shadowed forest green-red eyes scanning the night, ready to unravel the threats his powers had foreseen. Payal slept on, unaware that her quiet confession had set in motion a guardian's solitary vigil, one that might preserve the fleeting moments disaster she never wished for.