Payal stepped into William's study, her hand still intertwined with Asra's, expecting the charged presence of all three brothers. But the room appeared empty—polished oak panels gleaming under flickering lamplight, heavy tomes lining shelves like silent judges, the air thick with the scent of aged leather and lingering cigar smoke. Confusion furrowed her brow as she scanned the shadows. "Where are William and Julian?" she asked, turning to Asra with wide, bewildered eyes. The door clicked shut behind them, sealing them in isolation, her transmigrated instincts screaming that something was profoundly wrong.Asra met her gaze steadily, a flicker of apology in his dark eyes, but before she could press further, he raised his free hand. His fingers moved in intricate circular motions, tracing glowing runes in the air that shimmered like liquid starlight. The scenario warped around them—a surreal ripple distorting reality, the room expanding and contracting like a living entity. Walls shifted from opulent study to something far more foreboding: jagged stone surfaces dripping with moisture, torches sputtering in iron sconces casting erratic shadows, chains dangling from the ceiling like forgotten threats. The air grew chill and metallic, heavy with the echo of distant water drips and a faint, oppressive hum of ancient magic. The transformation was jarring, the difference too stark—this wasn't William's sanctuary but a hidden chamber beneath the mansion, a villainous lair Payal hadn't anticipated in the novel.Then, from the gloom, they materialized: Julian and William, seated on high-backed chairs carved with snarling beasts, their postures regal yet menacing. Julian's red eyes gleamed with calculated amusement, William's greenish-blue gaze piercing like shards of ice. The room's scary ambiance amplified their presence—cobwebs veiling corners, alchemical vials bubbling on a scarred table, maps of empires marked with conquests pinned to walls. Payal's heart hammered; she'd come here seeking answers about Yuri's revelations, Asra's delay, the brothers' secrets, but this felt like stepping into the novel's darkest underbelly. The emotions they hold felt like distant"Have a seat," William commanded directly, his voice smooth steel—no request, pure order. A heavy chair materialized behind Payal, when she met him frist time the felling she felt something distant forcing her compliance as Asra gently urged her down, his hand lingering on her shoulder.William leaned forward, elbows on knees, his expression devoid of the tenderness she'd glimpsed in his lap-confession. "You already know about us," he stated flatly. "We don't need to pretend anymore. What are they even saying ? I know what we've done isn't anything good—manipulations, obsessions, power plays—but it's how we make ourselves safe in Father's world. Still, there is confusion written on her face you don't get it. We've all just been acting around you, the caring husbands, the tender moments. It's all performance."Payal's breath caught, anger igniting beneath her confusion. Asra stood silent beside her, his face unreadable she looked at Asra—had he known? William continued mercilessly, Julian nodding with a smirk. "Asra doesn't know the full extent—it's just my and Julian's plan. To make Father believe we've finally accepted you as wife, that the ritual bond is sealed. Only then would he back off, leave our empire alone. But it's become more complicated now—Yuri's arrival, and her unexpected behaviour.
""Why me?" Payal demanded, her voice rising with fury, fists clenching in her lap as she glared at William. The room's scary confines closed in, torches flaring brighter as if feeding on her rage.William's lips twisted into a cold smile. "We chose you because you're not dangerous. An outsider, a mear human if you wanted still you can't harm us , no hidden agendas—you couldn't harm us, couldn't challenge our control. A safe, pliable wife to appease Father while we can scheme behind the scenes."The revelation crashed over her like ice water. Payal's knowledge about novel twisted viciously: in the novel, she was indeed the "unlucky wife," minor and disposable, but this layer of deliberate deception explained the divergences—Yuri as pre-marriage fiancée, the brothers' feigned affections masking a grander ruse. Asra's visions of her leaving now carried cruel irony; Julian's rage a mask slipping; William's vulnerability a calculated ploy? Yuri's "confession" gained weaponized clarity—former fiancée discarded, now returned to expose the farce.Hurt warred with anger in her chest, the chair's chains rattling faintly as if echoing her turmoil. Servants above remained oblivious, Yuri was furious the plan she ploted it's become unsuccessful, their father's shadow omnipresent. Payal's minor role felt like a prison sentence; yet her unique knowledge sparked defiance—could she turn their "act" against them, expose the performance to fracture their unity before Yuri did?Julian chuckled darkly, breaking the silence. "Don't look so betrayed, little wife. The act became... convincing, didn't it?" Asra shifted uncomfortably, his hand tightening on her shoulder—complicit or manipulated? Asra looked at her pleading eyes , i don't know about their plans , please what i did was with my all my heart, there no menupltion in it. William's gaze bored into her. He cut him off"Now that you know, decide: play along, or walk away and doom us all to Father's wrath."The chamber pulsed with menace, Payal at its mercy, her next words a potential pivot in the altered plot.
Payal's heart thundered in her chest, the chamber's scary confines—dripping stone, sputtering torches, chained shadows—closing in like a vice as William's cruel revelation sank its claws deep. "So Asra doesn't know about this?" she asked, her voice steady despite the storm within, locking eyes directly with Julian and William. The two brothers nodded in unison, Julian's red gaze flickering with something unreadable—regret, amusement, calculation?—while William's greenish-blue stare remained impassive, a wall of calculated indifference.Rising slowly from the manifested chair, Payal turned to Asra, her hand finding his in a grip that trembled with the courage it took to voice the question burning in her soul. "Asra... do you like me?" The words hung heavy, drawn from the depths of her vulnerability, her brown eyes searching his face amid the flickering torchlight. She'd faced the twists alone, hoarded stolen moments, but this demanded raw truth—beyond deceptions, beyond plans.Asra froze, caught in a daze, his cool blue hair framing wide dark eyes that betrayed his shock. The weight of the moment paralyzed him—his precognitive visions of her leaving colliding with genuine feelings he'd never dared name, especially under his brothers' scrutiny. Silence stretched, torturous, the chamber's hum amplifying Payal's rising panic. Her fingers loosened in his hand, a piece of her heart fracturing as resignation crept in—another act, another illusion in her minor role.But then Asra snapped to his senses, pulling her close with desperate urgency. "I don't like you," he breathed, voice rough with emotion. Payal's world tilted, loss crashing over her like a wave. Before she could pull away, he enveloped her in a fierce hug, forehead pressing to hers, noses nearly brushing in intimate proximity. "Because I love you," he whispered fiercely, lips brushing her skin. "All my mind, my heart— they belong to you. Only you. I love you until my last breath."Tears welled in Payal's eyes as relief and joy surged, her arms wrapping around him tightly. Lost in the endless depths of his gaze, the chamber's menace faded to irrelevance. "Sorry, but I can't control myself," she murmured, and before Asra could process, she surged forward, capturing his lips in a warm, fervent kiss. The sensation exploded—soft, electric, tasting of flour and unspoken promises. When they parted, breathless, Payal's cheeks flushed as she teased, "Oh, look at you—your face is all red. So cute, my husband is blushing." She pulled him into another hug, giggling through happy tears, their bodies molded together defiantly.Two pairs of eyes watched intently: Julian's red gaze softened with unexpected envy and pride, William's greenish-blue orbs narrowing with complex calculation—surprise at Asra's authenticity piercing his own deception narrative. The air crackled with shifted dynamics, garden seeds neutralized by this raw authenticity.Payal turned then, still leaning into Asra's side, her arm looped possessively through his. "And about what you said, William," she addressed him coolly, anger tempered by triumph, "I agree with your condition. Thank you, Julian, for choosing me." Her voice dripped irony, reclaiming agency in their "safe" selection. "I'll take my love with me. You two carry on with your plans. Let's go, Asra—we need to talk." She leaned on his shoulder, guiding him toward the exit with newfound boldness, leaving Julian and William in stunned silence.The chamber's magic rippled as they departed, walls shimmering back to William's study facade. Julian broke the quiet first, chuckling lowly. "Well, that backfired." William rubbed his temples, anxiety throbbing anew—Payal's kiss had exposed the cracks in their ruse, her meta-knowledge (unknown to them) empowering her pivot. Yuri's manipulation paled; Asra's confession rang true, fracturing their unity further. Father's schemes, the Deo Forest pact to exile—now complicated by Payal's defiance.Outside, Payal and Asra hurried through corridors, her head on his shoulder, heart soaring yet wary. The novel's plot bent under her will—minor character no more, but catalyst. Servants gawked; Yuri, lurking nearby, paled at the sight. What "talk" awaited? Confessions of Asra's visions, or deeper vows defying the endgame?Julian and William exchanged glances—alliance strained, but Payal's light pulled even them toward somewhere They don't want to go.