"You… you want to marry me?
You're joking, right?"
I let out a humorless laugh. "Listen, I don't care who you are or what you want, but I'm not interested. And I don't ever want to talk to you again. So please leave and end this sick joke—or prank—whatever it is."
I say all this while trying to shut the door on his ridiculously handsome face.
Really, Riya? Ridiculously… that's what you come up with? And why did you even notice he's handsome? Control yourself.
Just when I thought the door had closed, his hand stopped it cold. I'm not kidding—I used my entire strength. And by entire, I mean all of it. I'm not some delicate feather; I've got decent strength thanks to years of forcing myself into a strict routine—not because I'm a fitness freak, but because of the self-loathing my school bullies gifted me.
Focus, Riya. Stop getting distracted.
I open my mouth to shout for the building guards when he suddenly pushes the door wide open and walks into my home as if he's been doing it for years.
"You're such a creep. Get out before I scream and the entire building gathers! Don't you dare take me for—"
Before I can finish my insult, he turns, grabs me by the waist, and pulls me flush against him with such force that I collide with his chest. My hands instinctively land on his broad, infuriatingly firm chest for balance.
Oh God.
The only sound left in the room is our breathing.
For the first time in my 29 years, I am this close to a man. Pathetic, right? But that pretty much explains my whole life. And maybe that's why my breathing is ragged. It has nothing to do with the way he's looking at me—with such intensity that I might drown in his dark eyes or burn from the heat radiating under my palms.
What is happening to me?
I've never seen this man in my life, and yet… I feel this instant connection. I feel safe in his arms—as if I was meant to be here. That's what happens, ladies and gentlemen, when you spend your whole life without support. One spark, and you cling to the first warmth you find.
I try to wiggle free, but his hold only tightens—never hurting, but firm enough that I can't move an inch.
"Listen, Rain," he murmurs, his voice low but steady. "I will marry you one way or another. And I'm damn sure that once you stop this nonsense and actually listen to me, you will beg me to marry you. So now be a good girl and listen. Okay?"
Shock freezes me. No one has ever talked to me like this. How dare he?
But if I'm so upset, then why did my body just… relax in his arms? Why am I loosely holding onto his forearms instead of pushing him away?
This is the moment I should say something—something sharp, brutal, devastatingly mean.
Something to put him in his place.
But no. All I manage… is a tiny nod.
"Good girl."
Those two words flutter through me like a forbidden secret. What kind of girl am I? The first man who shows me even a shred of interest and I melt? I'm literally behaving like Shraddha from Ek Villain, getting dazzled by Siddharth's alpha energy in two seconds.
While I'm overthinking, Kabeer—is saying something. And from the seriousness in his eyes, I'm pretty sure it's important. I should probably pay attention.
"Are you even listening to me, Riya?" he asks, giving me a slight shake.
And that's when I realize—
No.
I absolutely am not.
"Of course I am listening! And leave me!"
I finally manage to wiggle out of his arms.
"Good. Then look at these pictures," he says, holding out a few photographs.
The moment my eyes fall on them, my stomach drops. "What… what are you? Some kind of stalker? Why are you harassing my whole family? And why did you take pictures of my father—and my father-in-law?!"
"Oh, Rain… are we getting a little feisty now?" he murmurs, sounding way too amused. "Stop staring at their faces. Notice their surroundings."
"Huh? What—"
And then I see it.
On the table in the pictures lie some documents—agreements. As I flip through more photos, the zoomed ones show them clearly. A prenuptial agreement. Another contract with my company's name printed boldly at the top.
"What the hell…" My eyes widen. "What is this?" I look at him with pure fury—only to see his grin widen even more.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you? What is this? Explain it to me now!"
"Oh? I didn't know my kitten could turn into a lioness," he says, rolling his eyes. "If you'd shown this side to your family—"
"What the hell—are you mocking me?"
His brows lift. "Right. Because you don't already have enough people doing that."
That does it.
I don't know what possesses me. I'm not a violent person—at all. When Nisha emptied a whole bottle of water on me in 9th grade just because I reported her for stealing my lunch, I did nothing. When I caught my sister and my fiancé—doing that—I did nothing. I am the human embodiment of "peaceful." If the authorities knew me, they'd hand me a peace prize.
So even I am shocked when my hand swings up and slaps his cheek so hard his whole body jolts.
"I—I'm really sorry! I'm so sorry! Are you okay?"
I reach out to touch his cheek—already turning red—but his fingers lock around my wrist in a hard, unforgiving grip. I gasp as he twists my arm behind my back.
"Listen to me, Rain." His voice is low, dangerous, and oddly thrilled. "You're amazing. And what you did just now made me like you even more."
Is he insane?
It was a slap, not love therapy. Did I hit him so hard it rattled his brain?
"But liking it doesn't mean you get to do it again." His grip tightens, just enough to send a shiver through me. "You understand? Never try that shit with me again. Or you'll regret it."
He smirks, but his eyes are dark—too dark. I shiver.
Then—without warning—he leans down and presses the softest, feather-light kiss to my cheek.
"You look even more beautiful when you blush."
My breath stutters. He leads me to the couch, and i gently pull my shrug tighter around me getting ready at whatever hurricane is coming towards me.
He settles into the seat opposite mine—crossing his legs with such ease and authority it feels like he owns this house.
"Okay, Rain. Where were we?"
He spreads the photos on the table. "Ah yes. Your upcoming marriage. To Rishabh Mehra—the careless Casanova who jumps from bed to bed so fast he doesn't even have time to change his condoms."
I flinch. Because it's true.
I loathe that man down to the last cell in my body. But hearing Kabir insult him, in that rich velvety voice of his—shouldn't feel this… good.
"Yes, so what?" I mutter weakly. "He… he's a playboy. But he'll change after marriage."
"Aww, Rain. Don't be so naïve."
He presses a hand dramatically to his heart. "One can change, I believe."
My anger spikes at the theatrical tone.
"But one can't change their true nature. Otherwise—why would your lovely fiancé buy a sea-facing Malabar Hill flat… in the name of your sweet little baby sister?"
He smirks.
My entire body goes cold. Heat rushes to my face, shame burns in my eyes, and tears blur my vision.
Oh God. Why me?
Why is humiliation my personal shadow?
My life is no better than Naina Mathur from Kal Ho Naa Ho—from family issues to life issues—but at least she had Shahrukh and Saif.
But me?
I'm sitting here listening to all this from a man who looks like an Indian god reclining like a king in my living room.
"So what? Maybe he just wanted to gift his only sister-in-law something," I snap, trying to defend the indefensible.
Kabeer lets out a low chuckle. "Aww, right. He may be generous… but generous enough to buy an 18-crore flat for his sister-in-law, while he gives his fiancée a 5-lakh diamond ring?"
He arches a brow. "Hmm. Strange."
"Please," I groan, rubbing my temple, "will you just come to the point?"
"Ohhh," he drawls, smirking. "So you don't want to defend your useless fiancé anymore, huh?"
"Kabeer—" I warn, but he ignores me.
"Okay, Rain. As I was saying…" He leans forward, elbows on his knees. "Your fiancé and your sweet baby sister are having an affair. Which," he gives me a pointed look, "I know you already know."
My eyes widen. "How do you know that? Nobody knows. I didn't tell anyone, and obviously neither of them would tell anyone—"
"Oh, I know, Rain." His voice dips into something darkly satisfied. "Because I was the one who arranged all of that… so that you could see the truth with your own eyes."
"What?"
The word leaves my lips as barely a whisper.
My eyes widen even more, my heart stuttering in my chest.
This night…
This night is going to be a very, very long one.