Sakshi barely slept through the night.
Her eyes were swollen, her head heavy, and her mind still replaying the moment she saw him again.
Her family, unaware of her silent breakdown, packed their bags cheerfully.
"Sakshi beta, hurry up, we need to leave early," her mother called.
"Haan… coming," she whispered, hiding her shaky voice.
By the time they checked out and sat inside the car, Sakshi kept her eyes glued to the window, silently praying for distance… distance from Jaipur… distance from him.
As the car rolled out of the city, she finally exhaled shakily.
For her, the nightmare was over.
She was going home.
Where she belonged.
Where he couldn't reach.
Or so she believed…
---
Meanwhile, in the Rathore Mansion…
The palace-like mansion was quiet.
Sunlight spilled through the tall carved windows, reflecting off gold accents and antique chandeliers—everything a symbol of old money and inherited power.
In the center of his massive bedroom, on a velvet king-sized bed, Riyansh Singh Rathore was still asleep.
Sheets slightly twisted around his waist, one arm resting behind his head, his breathing slow and calm.
Even asleep, he looked intimidating.
But suddenly—
his eyes snapped open.
Not gently.
Not lazily.
As if his mind had jolted awake with a single memory.
Yesterday's glimpse—
her black saree…
her startled eyes…
her trembling hands…
her sudden escape—
crashed into him like a wave.
He inhaled sharply, the memory tightening his chest.
He sat up, running a hand through his hair, jaw clenched.
He wasn't supposed to feel this.
He wasn't supposed to think about anyone.
He wasn't supposed to get affected.
Because Riyansh Singh Rathore only had one obsession—POWER.
The throne of Rajasthan.
The underworld.
Business empires.
Fear. Respect. Control.
Women never distracted him.
Emotions were weaknesses he had burned out long ago.
But this time…
Something inside him had shifted.
Something unwanted.
Something dangerous.
Something raw.
The memory of her fear…
her innocence…
her beauty…
stayed in his mind like an unfinished sentence.
He touched his chest lightly.
"What the hell is this…" he whispered to himself, eyes narrowing.
No.
He refused to accept it.
He stood up, walking across the marble floor toward the balcony. The cold morning air brushed against him as he stared over his massive estate.
"I don't get obsessed," he told himself.
"I cause obsession."
Yet deep inside…
He knew the truth.
Something new had begun.
Something powerful.
Something that made even THE Riyansh Singh Rathore feel unsettled.
Not love.
Not attraction.
But a slow, consuming obsession—
for the girl who dared to fear him.
Riyansh pushed the unsettling thoughts aside and stepped away from the balcony.
He had a kingdom to run.
A life carved from power, not weakness.
He showered, dressed in a crisp black shirt and tailored trousers, each piece stitched to perfection, each detail reflecting old money and dominance.
His aura shifted the moment he buttoned his cuffs—
cold, controlled, powerful.
By the time he walked out of his suite, the entire mansion staff straightened like soldiers.
Rathore Royal Breakfast Hall
The long banquet table was already filled—
every chair occupied by the members of the ruling legacy.
At the head sat Meenakshi Rathore, the Queen of Rajasthan—his grandmother.
Regal, strict, and sharp-eyed, she ruled the family with the same iron fist Riyansh used outside.
Beside her sat the King of Rajasthan, Rajveer Singh Rathore, Riyansh's father—calm, calculating, a man whose silence had more weight than a hundred speeches.
Next was Rajveer's younger brother, Abhiraj Singh Rathore, known for his strategic mind and cruel temper.
Riyansh's eldest brother, Virendra Singh Rathore, a powerful politician, sat dignified with his wife Meera, a graceful and poised daughter-in-law who managed the palace affairs.
Across them, his younger brother Ekansh, carefree but intelligent, scrolled through his phone lazily.
His sister Avika, elegant yet fearless, discussed something with Vinita, Abhiraj's wife—calm yet severe, the classic aristocratic aunt.
And finally…
his mother Samriti, gentle but strong, the only softness Riyansh allowed in his life. She looked at him with quiet pride as he entered.
The chatter died the moment His Highness walked in.
Riyansh took his seat after greetin everyone
Breakfast began:
Silverware clinking, servants standing in two straight lines, no one daring to speak loudly.
Meenakshi cleared her throat.
"Riyansh, the Udaipur contract—did you finalize it?"
"Yes," he replied shortly.
Rajveer nodded approvingly.
Virendra smirked, "And the meeting with the ministers yesterday? I heard they were… nervous."
"They should be," Riyansh said coldly.
Meera spoke softly, "Dadi-sa, there's a charity event this week. Should we all attend?"
Before anyone else could answer, Riyansh stood up, done with breakfast.
His chair pushed back silently, yet the whole table straightened.
Samriti sighed softly.
"You're leaving already, beta?"
"Yes," he replied. "I have work."
He bowed faintly to his grandmother—one of the few gestures of respect he ever showed—then walked out.
The entire hall watched him leave…
some with pride,
some with fear,
some with curiosity.
Because Riyansh Singh Rathore wasn't just the future king.
He was the force that kept the entire state—and the underworld—in line.
Outside the mansion
Four SUVs and a trail of bodyguards waited.
As he stepped inside his car, his manager approached.
"Your Highness, shall we go to the company?"
Riyansh nodded.
The convoy moved.
The world outside parted for him—every vehicle, every person, every breath.
But behind his cold eyes,
a single thought flickered again.
The girl in the black saree.
And the obsession he refused to accept…
grew stronger.
On the other hand, Sakshi got busy with her college.
A new week had begun, and with assignments, practicals, and daily classes, her routine had become packed again. She tried her best to behave normally—laughing with her friends, attending lectures, rushing between buildings—but every time she stopped for a moment, the memory of that night in Jaipur flashed in her mind like a sharp spark.
The way she had felt his gaze on her… the way her heartbeat had crashed inside her chest… it wasn't fading as easily as she had hoped.
Pihu and Ishu checked on her often, silently exchanging glances whenever they saw her lost in thoughts. Diya and Vipul, who still didn't know the whole truth, simply assumed she was stressed about exams.
Sakshi didn't correct them. She didn't want anyone to know. She didn't want him to exist in her life again.
But unknowingly, every time she tried to forget, something in her chest tightened—a strange mix of fear and an unspoken pull she didn't understand.
Life at college continued… but Sakshi's mind wasn't the same anymore.
She felt watched even when no one was around.
She felt restless even when everything was normal.
And somewhere far away, in his towering glass office, Riyansh's day was running smoothly—but her black-saree image still lingered quietly at the back of his mind… proving that neither of them had truly moved on.