AUTHOR POV

"Boss, I asked him plenty of times, but he is not opening his fleshy mouth," a person on the call informed his boss.

"Ask him once again. If he doesn't answer, then..." the other person took a deep breath and said, "Kill him." Then the person cut the call and moved out of their room.

Vardhman Haveli

Today is the day of Roohi and Riyansh's wedding. Everyone was engulfed in marriage preparations. Vardhman Haveli was decorated like a newlywed bride, blinking with lights, and the atmosphere was chaotic.

Then, the marriage ritual began, and Riyansh came to the mandap.

He was wearing a white groom's attire. He looked hot in that white attire—his hair perfectly set, the cut on his brows sharp. Then he went and sat on his seat, and after some time, Pandit Ji called the bride.

RIYANSH VARDHMAN

Rooh was descending the stairs. She looked like an angel in that maroon color. Her lehenga was perfect. I was looking at her.
"Teri hi hai, itna mat ghoor," Bhay whispered in my ear, which made my face flush.
(She's yours; don't stare so much.)

"Ghoor nahi, Nihar raha hu apni biwi ko," I replied to him with a smirk.
(I'm not staring at her; I'm exploring the beauty of my wife.)

Then she came toward me. I gave her my hand because in that heavy lehenga she was not able to walk on her own. She sat beside me. I was just staring at her.

Then Pandit Ji started the mantra and told me to apply sindur in her hair parting. I applied sindur, and then he gave me the mangalsutra to tie around her neck. I did exactly as he said, and then we completed the seven pheras. Now, she was my wife by all rights.

(Sindur = vermilion
Mangalsutra = nuptial chain
Phera = vow)

Then, everyone gave us gifts and their blessings. Roohi's friends came toward us and group-hugged her. She was crying, and seeing her tears broke my heart.

Then her best friends came toward me.

"Agar humari Rooh ki aankhon se ek aasun bhi aaya, to aapki ruh nikalne se pehle hum ek baat bhi nahi sochenge, Riyansh ji," her best friends warned. Their voices showed protectiveness for her.

(If even a single tear comes from the eyes of our Rooh, we will not think a single thing before our soul leaves yours, Riyansh ji.)

"Ye sirf aapki Rooh nahi; humari ardhangini ban chuki hai. Inke aankhon me aansu aane se pehle hum apna sir katkar inke kadmo mai rakh denge," I replied to them. Then I looked toward my secret admirer; she was now blushing. I loved when she blushed because of me.

(She is not just your Rooh; she has become my better half. Before tears come to her eyes, we will cut off my head and place it at her feet.)

"That's good for you," I heard a melodious voice say. I looked toward the source—Shivnya Bhabhi.
"Yes, I know that Shivanya Bha—" I was going to complete my sentence when I felt someone pinch my hand.

"Who is that bastard who dared to pinch me?" I thought in shock.
For my surprise, he was like, "Why the fvck did he pinch me?"
Then everyone went to see the preparation of other rituals.

I glared at Bhay and whispered in his ear, "Why did you pinch me, bastard?"

"Wtf, are you going to call her?" he asked me; his voice was annoying.

"Sorry, I just forgot," I said and bit my tongue.

SHIVANYA SHEKHAWAT

Today is the day my Rooh baby is getting married. First, I got ready. I wore a baby-pink lehenga, did minimal makeup, tied my hair in a bun, and went to the room of my Rooh.

Oh my god, she was looking like a goddess in that maroon lehenga. She looked very beautiful, and the most adorable thing about her was her smile. She was smiling like an innocent child.

Then Pandit Ji called the bride, and we all went downstairs. She went to the mandap, where Riyansh Jiju gave her his hand, and then she sat beside him. The wedding ritual began.

Everyone was enjoying the wedding, but I felt some heated stares on me. Nowadays, they are common, so I ignored them.
But my heart... it couldn't ignore that stare. I looked at him again.

He was wearing a baby-pink kurta—exactly the same color I was wearing today.

I noticed for some days that we were twinning at all functions. I didn't know how he knew what color I was going to wear.

Then a man in his late 20s came toward me and stood beside me.
"Hi, I'm Viraj Sehegal," he started talking.

"So what...??" I asked, being rude, as my mood was not good from last night.

"Chill, girl. I'm just here to talk with you because I'm getting bored, and you also stand here alone. I thought you might be bored, so I came to talk with you," he said, his voice low and soft.

"Oh, okay," I replied and shrugged it off.

"Waise, bhool gayi apne dost Raj ko itne jaldi," he said.
(By the way, you forgot your friend Raj that soon.)

"Wh-what? You're Raj—the Raj from our school?" I asked him and smiled a little.

ABHAY SINGH RATHOD

Today is the day of Riyansh's wedding, but I don't feel like enjoying it because of the newfound information.

I wore my baby-pink kurta with some intention, set my hair, and went downstairs.

Wedding rituals were starting; everyone was enjoying them. Pandit Ji called the bride, and she was coming downstairs. There was my diamond with her; she was wearing a baby-pink lehenga.

She looked absolutely adorable. I don't know how someone could look that beautiful in every type of attire.

Everyone's eyes were on the couple, but my eyes were on her—my diamond. I couldn't look away. Then a man came and stood beside her. A surge of jealousy ran through me. I felt like going and punching that bastard.

Then I was looking at them, and a smile broke on her face. Her smile—my smile, yes, everything was hers; that was mine, even her mere smile.

He kept talking, making her smile again and again, and that boiled my blood. I went where they stood and said, "Dia—Ms. Shivanya, I need to talk with you about something," I said to her.

"Yes," she said. I could see the hesitance in her voice.

I looked toward the man and said, "Excuse us." The man left, and she started going, but I held her wrist and pulled her toward myself. She bumped into my hard chest.

She wiggled in my grip, but I had no intention to release her wrist easily. I stared at her, but a strand of her hair was disturbing me. I tucked it behind her ear.

She looked into my brown eyes with her baby-blue eyes. We stared into each other's eyes.
"Leave me, Mr. Rathod," she said in a cold voice.

"Never," I replied softly, brushing my finger on her cheeks.

"Tell me, who was that man you were talking to?" I asked softly, caressing her cheek.

"That's not your concern, Mr. Rathod," she replied firmly.
"Anything that belongs to you or is about you is my concern, diamond," I replied and pecked her earlobe.

"Leave it," she said and continued wiggling in my hold.
"Look, diamond, I don't like him. And the cherry on top—I don't like that you were smiling at him. It's only my right to see your beautiful smile. Don't talk with him again. Get it?" I replied while continuing to caress her cheek.

"Aap hote kon hai mujhe batane wale mujhe kisse baat karni hai ya kisise nahi," she growled. Her voice was filled with annoyance, and her baby-blue orbs darkened—a sign she was getting angry.
(Who are you to tell me who I should talk to or not?)

"Aapka hone wala pati, diamond," I replied casually and pecked her palm.
(Your future husband, diamond.)

She was about to reply, but then we heard my Dadaji and an old man, the same age as him, on stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen, on this beautiful and pure occasion of the wedding, I and my childhood friend Randeep Shekhawat want to announce something, so listen to us very carefully," he said.
Randeep Shekhawat—Shekhawat—that means he is my diamond's Dadaji, but I didn't know that he and my Dadaji were childhood friends.

Everyone was surprised by this newfound information.
Then they both started talking. My Dadaji said something that made me jump in my place:
"My grandson Abhay Singh Rathod and my beloved friend's granddaughter Shivnya Shekhawat are going to marry in the next 15 days."

So here I have some questions for you

1) Why does Shivnya hate Abhay this much...??

2) Who is that person on call...??

3) Why does that person want to kill the other person..??

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