AUTHOR’S POV
Abhimanyu’s anger boiled over, but he took a steadying breath.
“It’s a freaking chair.”
Abhimanyu’s rage was at its peak. That bastard Vinod Khanna—the same man who once sat among the clan members—was on the other side of the line. His father had ruled the clan when Ranveer stepped down, and Vinod had always believed the throne was his birthright. But fate had different plans.
When the time came, Abhimanyu challenged him. The battle was fierce, but in the end, Vinod lost, and Abhimanyu claimed the seat of the ruler.
Vinod never forgave him for it.
For years, the man seethed, consumed by envy. Even when Abhimanyu gave up the throne after three years of rule and one year of negotiations of members not letting him leave , no one else was approved by the clan. The members had waited—for six long years—because they believed only Abhimanyu was worthy.
And Vinod hated him more for it.
Now his voice hissed through the phone.
“It was never your chair. From the day I was born, it was mine to claim. But you… you stole it.”
Abhimanyu let out a sharp scoff.
“If it was yours, Khanna, I would’ve never sat there. Your bloodline is weak. Your father only ruled when my father stepped down. And you? You only got power when I left. Your family’s legacy is licking our spit. That’s all you’re worthy of, you bloody bastard.”
The insult sliced deep. Vinod’s voice turned venomous.
“You’ll pay for this… or maybe I should say, your wife will.”
Abhimanyu’s growl rumbled like a storm.
“How dare you drag my wife into this? Oh wait—why am I even surprised? You’ve always been the kind of cowardly impotent who targets women and children to prove himself.”
Vinod laughed, low and chilling.
“If it pleases you, RULER, then yes… I am exactly that. I love watching strong men turn weak when their wives and children are burning in hell. And I know your wife’s name—”
Abhimanyu’s roar cut him off.
“Don’t you fucking dare! Speak her name and I’ll rip your tongue out. What the hell do you want from me, Vinod? I left the throne! Take the rulership if that’s what you crave!”
But Vinod inhaled slowly, savoring the moment.
“No… there’s no joy in simply taking it. I want to see you suffer. I want your precious clan to see their so-called ruler fall to his knees, powerless.”
Abhimanyu’s fists clenched as his team scrambled to track the call, the signal bouncing across continents. His voice thundered:
“You motherfucker! Take the throne and leave me out of this!”
Vinod’s laughter was the final blow.
“Stop your men from tracing me, and I’ll tell you where I am. I’m close, Abhimanyu. Very close. In your city. And on Karwachauth… I’ll kill your wife. Just wait for it. Goodbye.”
The line went dead.
With a roar of pure fury, Abhimanyu hurled the phone into the mirror. Glass shattered, windows cracked under the force, and his reflection fractured into shards. His chest heaved with rage.
He knew one thing for certain—no one could even lay a finger on her. But Vinod had declared war, and Abhimanyu was ready to burn the world down if that bastard came anywhere near Shivnya.
Abhimanyu’s rage was still burning when the phone shattered against the mirror, glass scattering across the floor. His jaw clenched as he barked an order to his most trusted man.
“Find him. I want his location, his movements, everything—within twenty-four hours. And get me a new phone. Insert my old SIM. I’m going home.”
He stormed out, but on the way, he couldn’t stop himself from stopping at Shivnya’s office. The moment she looked up and saw his disheveled state, her heart clenched. She rushed to him, and before she could say anything, he wrapped his arms around her, lifting her slightly off the ground and burying his face in her neck.
“Abhi… what happened?” she whispered, caressing the back of his head gently.
“Nothing,” he muttered against her skin, trying to steady himself. “Just… work stress.”
Shivnya’s lips curved in a faint smile, though her eyes betrayed concern. She cupped his face and said softly, “It’s okay, baby. I’m here. It’ll go away.”
He hugged her tighter, as if drawing strength from her warmth. After a moment, he pulled back, his voice low but firm. “Let’s go home.”
She didn’t question him further, just nodded. Silently, she messaged her P.A. to cancel all her meetings. They drove back together, his hand never leaving hers the entire ride.
At home, the family was gathered, laughter echoing through the halls. But the moment Abhimanyu entered, the atmosphere shifted. Everyone could see the storm in his eyes. He didn’t greet anyone, didn’t explain—just walked straight to his chamber, pulling Shivnya along.
Anirudh took a step forward, worry etched on his face, but his mother placed a gentle hand on his arm and shook her head. “Not now,” she murmured.
Inside the chamber, silence wrapped around them. Abhimanyu loosened his shirt buttons with rough, impatient hands before shrugging it off, leaving only his vest. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. Shivnya understood.
“Abhi…” she whispered softly.
He looked at her, his voice almost pleading. “Shivuu… I just want to sleep for a while. Please… stay with me.”
Her heart softened instantly. She removed her coat and heels, and before she could say anything more, Abhimanyu pulled her down into the bed, pressing his face against her chest. His arms were locked tight around her, but still he couldn’t find peace. Restlessness burned in his veins.
With a frustrated sigh, he suddenly tugged at her shirt buttons, opening them, then laid back again. But even then, his agitation lingered. Irritated, he murmured in a husky, childlike tone, “Shivuu… remove this stupid bra.”
Shivnya chuckled softly at his impatience, unclasping it. “You know,” she teased, brushing her fingers through his hair, “you’re acting like a little boy right now.”
Abhimanyu buried his face against her chest, his voice muffled but tender. “Yes… I’m your baby. Just hold me, mommy.”
Her laughter was warm, her hands gentle as she stroked his hair. Slowly, the tension in his body began to ease. Wrapped in her embrace, his storm finally started to settle, and within moments, they both drifted into sleep.
Two to three hours later, Shivnya stirred awake. The weight of Abhimanyu’s body was fully over hers, his face buried in her neck. Careful not to wake him, she tilted her head slightly and managed to glance at the clock on the wall.
8:00 p.m.
She sighed softly and brushed her fingers through his hair, planting a tender kiss on his forehead. Slowly, she tried to slip out of his hold. He stirred, his arm tightening around her instinctively, but Shivnya patted his back and whispered soothingly until he relaxed again.
Once free, she went to the closet and slipped into a light kurti. Quietly, she moved toward the secret passage that connected their chamber to the rest of the haveli.
The moment she stepped out, the family turned in surprise. For a second, their faces were shocked, but soon softened into smiles at the sight of her. Shivnya offered a small smile in return before heading straight toward the kitchen.
Moments later, Ridhimaa and Radha joined her there.
“What happened to Abhimanyu?” Ridhimaa asked, her voice laced with concern.
Shivnya kept her tone gentle, reassuring. “Nothing, Maa… he’s just a little tired. Work pressure. His health is a bit down too.”
Ridhimaa made a worried “oh” face. “Then what’s he doing now?”
Shivnya busied herself with fixing a plate for him, with Radha quietly helping at her side. “He’s sleeping, Maa. But he hasn’t eaten anything since morning, so I’ll take food to him.”
Ridhimaa nodded but suggested firmly, “Call him outside. Let him eat here with us.”
Shivnya gave a nervous smile. “Maa… he’s just stressed. Maybe it’s something important he isn’t sharing yet, even with me. I think he needs space.”
Ridhimaa reluctantly nodded, though worry lingered in her eyes.
Radha leaned closer and said softly, “At least you stay with us for a while, Bhabhi. Ani was also asking for you.”
Shivnya smiled faintly, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I would… but you know your brother-in-law. He always wants me near. If he wakes up and finds me gone, he’ll get restless—and I don’t want him more stressed right now. Please understand.”
Both women exchanged a look, then gave her an understanding nod. They let her go.
Shivnya carefully returned to the chamber, balancing the food tray in her hands. Her gaze softened instantly—Abhimanyu was still sleeping soundly, his chest rising and falling with steady breaths. She placed the tray aside and sat down beside him, gently running her fingers through his hair.
“Wake up, baby,” she whispered softly. “You must be hungry.”
Abhimanyu stirred faintly, eyelids fluttering open at the sound of her voice. She leaned closer, smiling.
“Yes… that’s my good boy. Wake up,” she said warmly, pressing another kiss to his forehead.
A soft yawn escaped him as he finally blinked his eyes open, his gaze hazy but fixed on her face—the only thing that seemed to calm his storm.
That nap had been an escape for Abhimanyu. For a few hours, he could let go of the weight of the world, knowing Shivnya was safe in his arms. He wanted nothing more than to remain near her forever. That was why he had come home with her in the first place—because even in his most broken state, nothing in this world made him feel more vulnerable yet more alive than his wife.
When he opened his eyes fully , his gaze softened. His heart whispered only one thing—if only it could be just her and him, in peace, with no shadows of the world intruding. But reality was cruel, and he knew that wasn’t possible.
Shivnya slowly helped him sit up. She went to fetch a wet towel, gently wiping his face and hands, her touch tender, careful, full of love. Then she returned with the plate of food, sitting close beside him.
He said nothing—just looked at her silently, drinking in the moment, cherishing the sight of the woman who knew his unspoken words, who understood that right now, he needed no one but her.
She set the plate on the bed, scooped up a bite, and held it before him. “Open your mouth, Abhi. You have to eat. Open like a good boy.”
He gave her a tired but obedient look and opened his mouth, taking the bite.
Halfway through eating, his eyes searched hers. “Did you eat?”
Shivnya smiled softly. “First I have to feed my little thirty-one-year-old baby. Then I’ll eat.”
Abhimanyu chuckled at her teasing. “Madam Sahiba, ask anyone—would they even believe I look like a thirty-one-year-old man?”
Shivnya raised a brow, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “And if someone did say so…?”
Abhimanyu pretended to think. “Then I’ll give you anything you want.”
She leaned closer, playful fire in her eyes. “Promise?”
He nodded.
And before he could guess her move, she smirked and asked herself out loud, “So, Shivnya Rathore, what is your husband’s age?”
She answered herself with a dramatic smile, “My husband is thirty-one years old. But sometimes, he’s just my notorious baby.”
Abhimanyu burst into laughter, his heart lighter than it had been in weeks. “See? My wife herself says I’m just her baby sometimes. So I win!”
Shivnya made a sulky face and crossed her arms. “Hmph! I don’t care. I already have everything I want. My husband has given me all of it.”
His laughter softened into warmth. Abhimanyu pulled her onto his lap, holding her close as they continued feeding each other until the plate was empty.
After dinner, he stroked her hair and said, “I have some work. You should go spend time with the family.”
Shivnya nodded with a smile and left. Meanwhile, Abhimanyu sat in his study, secretly tracing locations and instructing Vikram to keep an eye on every corner—Karwa Chauth was just days away, and he couldn’t afford risks.
Two hours later, Shivnya returned to the chamber. She walked straight to the study and found him still at his desk.
The moment Abhimanyu saw her, he quickly changed the desktop screen, hiding whatever file he had been working on. Shivnya ignored the act and went directly to him.
“Your work still isn’t finished?” she asked softly.
Abhimanyu shook his head, guilt flashing across his face.
Shivnya cupped his cheek. “ tomorrow… I won’t go to the office.”
Abhimanyu exhaled deeply, a weight lifting from his chest. For the first time in days, his breath felt steady. He leaned into her touch, silently thanking the heavens for giving him this woman—his peace, his shield, his everything.
But Abhimanyu had no idea what was coming his way.
Shivnya looked at him and said softly, “I have to go to the market for Karwachauth shopping.”
The moment he heard it, Abhimanyu froze. Shock flashed across his face before he suddenly pulled her onto his lap. Shivnya continued, “You know Radha and Ansh are going shopping, and maa said I should also go. Since it’s my first Karwachauth, she told me to shop with you too.”
Abhimanyu’s eyes lingered on her. His mind was already racing—calculating every possible threat. He had deployed security on the entire route of her office, keeping track of her every entry and exit. But this… this was different. The thought of her being outside that protective circle made his jaw tighten. He wasn’t the kind of man to leave a loophole—especially not when it came to her.
“So tell me, then why are you sad?” he asked, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
Shivnya sighed. “What’s there to be happy about? You’re not coming with me. I’ll feel like a third wheel between them, and I don’t want that.”
Abhimanyu chuckled lowly, his lips curling in amusement. “You won’t be a third wheel, jaan… because I’m coming with you.”
Shivnya’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Really? You’ll come with me?”
He nodded firmly. Her face lit up instantly, and she kissed his cheek in delight. Abhimanyu smirked. “A kiss just for taking you to the market? You should’ve told me earlier. I would’ve taken you every day.”
Shivnya laughed, swatting his shoulder playfully. “Okay fine, you finish your work. I’ll make a list of what I need to buy.”
He nodded, letting her go. But the moment she left, his demeanor shifted. Picking up his phone, he ordered Vikram to discreetly clear the market of any possible threats, and to thin out the crowd so they could shop in peace. It would cause inconvenience to the public, yes—but for his wife’s safety, Abhimanyu was willing to shake the whole city if he had to.
The hours slipped by. He worked tirelessly—handling both the preparations and his pending files. By the time midnight arrived, Shivnya peeked into his study.
“Are you still not done? Come to bed na… we have shopping tomorrow,” she said, her voice laced with a gentle plea.
Without looking up, he murmured, “Baby, I still have some work left. You go ahead and sleep.”
Shivnya pouted adorably, her brows knitted in mock anger, and walked away to the room without another word.
Around 1 A.M, Shivnya appeared again at the study door. Her eyes were heavy with sleep, but still, she whispered softly, “Come to bed na… I can’t sleep without you. No more work, please, come.”
Abhimanyu lifted his gaze from the files, and his chest tightened at the sight of her. Those drowsy eyes, that small pout—he couldn’t let her suffer because of him. Without a word, he pushed back his chair, stood up, and walked over to her.
In one swift motion, he scooped her into his arms. Shivnya instantly curled into him, wrapping around him like a little koala. Abhimanyu carried her gently to their bed, laying down with her still clinging to him.
Within moments, she drifted off, her soft breaths fanning against his chest. Abhimanyu wrapped his arm around her protectively, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. Sleep didn’t come to him as easily. His mind refused to quiet.
Vinod.
The name itself brought a bitter taste. Abhimanyu knew Vinod wasn’t capable enough to challenge him directly—but the man’s madness, his unpredictability, made him dangerous. A psycho could cause chaos without reason, and that worried him more than anything.
His jaw clenched as his mind hardened with resolve. This game has to end. Either the game… or the man himself. No one will ever come close to harming her.
With Shivnya asleep in his arms, safe and warm, Abhimanyu’s eyes finally began to close. And somewhere between his thoughts of vengeance and his vow of protection, he slipped into a deep, restless sleep.
The next morning
Shivnya was the first to wake. She gently shook Abhimanyu until his sleep-heavy eyes fluttered open. Soon, both of them joined the family for breakfast. Laughter, chatter, and teasing filled the table as everyone ate together.
Afterward, Shivnya dressed in a chic cord set that made her glow effortlessly, while Radha draped herself in a traditional saree. Just as they were leaving, little Anirudh tugged at Radha’s pallu, insisting he wanted to come along. But Radha knew her son too well—he’d demand attention all through the shopping trip, either from her or from Shivnya. As much as she adored him, today wasn’t the day. Smiling, she left him in the care of the elders and his uncles.
The four of them—Abhimanyu, Shivnya, Radha, and Ansh—headed toward the market.
The moment they arrived, Radha looked around in surprise. “Wow… it’s peak season, yet the market isn’t even that crowded!”
At her words, Shivnya’s gaze immediately flickered to Abhimanyu. She knew exactly why. And Ansh, too, glanced at his brother with quiet understanding. Both had seen just how far Abhimanyu could go in the name of protecting his wife.
As they entered, people instinctively bowed their heads in respect, clearing paths as Abhimanyu passed.
“Bhabhi, let’s go for saree shopping first!” Radha chirped, tugging Shivnya’s hand.
The two women were swept into a luxurious saree showroom, where the staff had already cleared a private section for them. Attendants hurriedly laid out saree after saree—silks, chiffons, embroidered beauties.
Shivnya’s eyes sparkled when she spotted a magenta-pink saree and another in a striking blue-and-white combination. Almost instinctively, she turned toward Abhimanyu. His approving nod was all she needed; a soft smile curved on her lips.
Three to four hours slipped away in a whirl of silks and laughter. By the end, both Shivnya and Radha had picked at least ten sarees each, along with nearly fifteen kurtis apiece.
Then, it was the men’s turn. Shivnya insisted on buying Abhimanyu a few pieces—simple white, black, and cream kurta-pajamas—because she loved how regal he looked in them.
Finally, with arms full of shopping bags, they made their way back. But just as they passed a bangle shop, Shivnya stopped, her eyes lighting up. “Wait! Bangles,” she said, tugging him toward the shimmering display.
Abhimanyu, indulgent as always, helped her pick a few sets. He even slipped a pair onto her wrists himself, his strong fingers brushing against her delicate skin. Shivnya giggled at the gesture, but his expression suddenly shifted.
Abhimanyu stiffened, his instincts prickling. He could feel eyes on them—watching, following. A second later, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen.
A chill ran through him.
It was a message from Vinod. Attached were photos—clear, close shots—of him and Shivnya shopping inside the showroom.
His blood boiled. Rage stormed through his veins, his jaw tightening, his eyes darkening. He shoved the phone back into his pocket, forcing his voice to remain steady.
“Shivuu…” he said, his tone deceptively calm, “are you done with shopping?”
Shivnya smiled softly and nodded, her wrists glittering as the seller handed over a set of red glass and lac bangles. Abhimanyu took the packets himself, and with his other hand, he clasped hers firmly, leading her away. His grip was protective, almost urgent.
Radha and Ansh trailed behind, unaware of the storm brewing in him.
Reaching the car, Abhimanyu opened the door and guided Shivnya inside, settling her gently in the seat. His voice was calm, but his eyes betrayed something darker. “You go home. I have some work. I’ll come later.”
Shivnya tilted her head, frowning. “Is everything okay…?”
He gave her a small nod, the kind that was meant to reassure, but didn’t. Before she could press further, the car pulled away, carrying her and the others toward home.
Abhimanyu stood still for a moment, watching the vehicle disappear down the road. Then his hand slid behind his back, pulling out the cold weight of his gun. His eyes swept the market, sharp and calculating.
A quick message flew from his phone to Vikram: Clear all routes to home. Send high security behind Ansh’s car.
Only then did he open the photos again, analyzing each angle, each frame. He retraced steps, visiting the same corners where the shots could have been taken. But the ground had already gone cold—the eyes that watched them had vanished into the crowd. Still, he dispatched men to each possible spot, refusing to leave any stone unturned.
Finally, he left for his office. Hours bled into the day as he pored over details, searching, waiting, plotting.
When night fell, he messaged Shivnya: I have late-night meetings with the USA clients. I won’t be back tonight.
It was an excuse. Both of them knew it. Yet neither said a word.
She didn’t ask, and he didn’t explain. Their silence was heavy—but it carried trust.
The moment Abhimanyu’s message was delivered, his phone lit up with an incoming call. Vinod.
Without hesitation, he answered.
“You motherfucker,” Abhimanyu snarled before the other man could speak, his voice like steel scraping against stone. “How dare you click my wife’s photo?”
On the other end, Vinod chuckled darkly, unbothered. “For now, I just clicked her picture. But after two days… I’ll kill your wife.”
A growl rumbled from Abhimanyu’s chest. His grip on the phone tightened until his knuckles turned white. “My foot! You won’t even come close to touching her.”
Vinod’s mocking voice came again. “Bet?”
Abhimanyu’s jaw clenched, his teeth gritted so hard it hurt. But his faith in himself, in his power, in his ability to shield Shivnya—was unshakable. “Bet.”
The line went dead.
That night, Abhimanyu didn’t sleep. His mind replayed Vinod’s words again and again. Vinod hadn’t sounded nervous, hadn’t wavered. His tone had been steady, confident—too confident. On what basis was he so sure?
Abhimanyu’s mind ran through every possibility, every angle, every potential loophole. He came up with reasons—but none felt strong enough to explain that kind of certainty.
By dawn, a dull ache throbbed in his head. He leaned back in his chair, eyes closing for just a moment, and the only thought that brought him calm was her—his Shivnya. His peace, his reason to endure this filthy, ruthless life.
The next morning
At home, Shivnya decided to surprise him. She rose early, freshened up, and—with Radha’s little guidance—prepared a special breakfast with her own hands. Packing it carefully into a tiffin, she stepped into the parking area, determination and love in her smile.
Just as she was about to get into her car, a servant approached—one of the new butlers who had joined only days ago.
“Ma’am,” he said politely, “please take that car instead. Your usual one… it was leaking petrol this morning. I could smell it, and you can check too.”
Frowning, Shivnya bent down and inhaled near the bonnet. Yes—there was a faint smell of petrol. But confusion flickered in her eyes. Her cars were always in perfect condition, regularly maintained. She had never seen such an issue before.
Still, she shook off the doubt. “Alright,” she murmured, and slid into the other car.
The engine purred to life, and she drove out.
On the way, her eyes caught a small bouquet shop at the corner of the road. Her lips curved into a soft smile. Flowers… for him. She thought, already imagining the faint surprise in Abhimanyu’s eyes when she handed them over.
But then suddenly… .
Meanwhile, at his office, Abhimanyu had dozed off on his desk barely an hour ago when his phone rang.
The name flashing across the screen made his eyes snap open—Vinod.
He answered, his voice rough with sleep but sharp with suspicion.
On the other end, Vinod’s chilling words sliced through him:
“YOUR WIFE IS DEAD, MR. RATHORE. SHE’S BURNING IN THE CAR. GO AND CHECK.”
Before Abhimanyu could even snarl back, the line went dead.
For a heartbeat, the world went silent around him. Then, his instincts roared to life. He called his guards immediately, ordering them to track Shivnya. Within seconds, they confirmed—her usual car was still at home.
His heart thudded. Then which car…?
He demanded answers from the security guard, who nervously admitted, “Ma’am left in another car, sir. She changed it last minute…”
Cold dread sliced through him. He dialed his mother next. Her voice came soft, unsuspecting. “She was going to you, beta. With breakfast she made herself. Woke up early, just for you. Don’t forget to eat it when she comes.”
Her words stabbed at him. But Abhimanyu was already behind the wheel, engine roaring, racing toward the route Shivnya would take.
He drove recklessly, his car screeching around bends, swerving into the opposite lane just to catch sight of her. His eyes scanned every corner, desperate for that one glimpse, that one proof she was safe.
Then, as he sped around a sharp turn, the road stretched out before him—eerily empty. Except… at the far end, a gathering.
A wall of vehicles. A cluster of people. And a thick, black smoke rising into the sky.
Traffic stood frozen. Horns blared. But no one moved.
Abhimanyu’s blood iced over. He abandoned his car, sprinting forward. Each step hammered his heart against his ribs.
And then—he saw it.
A car engulfed in flames. Fire licking at metal, black smoke choking the air. Police were already there, holding people back, their radios crackling.
Abhimanyu’s breath came harsh and ragged. No. It can’t be. Not hers. Not my Shivuu.
He tried to convince himself. This could be someone else’s car. It has to be.
But then the inspector’s voice carried over the chaos, cold and clear:
“This vehicle belongs to the King’s family.”
The ground seemed to collapse beneath him. His legs felt heavy, his veins frozen. For the first time in years, Abhimanyu Rathore—untouchable, unbreakable—felt as though life had been ripped out of him.
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