Author pov:-
The room smelled of roses and sandalwood. The walls glowed faintly in the soft light of lamps, shadows flickering across the silken drapes. The bed had been decorated with garlands, crimson and white, a cruel mockery of celebration.
Ekansh stood at the threshold, his chest heaving though he wasn’t out of breath. The gun was no longer in his hand, but the weight of what he had done clung to him like a second skin. Ishani sat on the bed, still draped in the heavy bridal attire, her bangles clinking faintly with every nervous movement. She did not look at him. Her eyes stayed fixed on the floor, where petals had been scattered as though love could be staged.
It should have been the happiest night of his life. The night he had waited for, fought for, broken the world for. But all he could feel was the sharp edge of her silence.
He closed the door behind him.
“You’re mine now,” he said quietly. His voice was not triumphant. It was rough, almost wounded.
Ishani did not respond. Her stillness was louder than any scream.
Something inside him twisted. He wanted her to fight, to shout, to throw his words back at him. But she sat like a statue, fragile yet unyielding, and that silence cut deeper than her hatred ever could.
He stepped forward. Every move was deliberate, heavy with the storm raging inside him. When he reached her, he bent down, tilting her face up with his hand. Her skin burned under his touch, not from love but from the weight of force.
Her eyes met his at last—eyes filled with sorrow, not fear. He hated it. He wanted her to fear him, to despise him, anything but this unbearable pity.
Before he could stop himself, he crushed his lips against hers. The kiss was not tender; it was sharp, angry, desperate. It was the act of a man trying to brand ownership, not share love. Ishani did not kiss back. She remained still, her lips unmoving, her tears dampening his fury.
He broke away, panting. His forehead rested against hers, his grip trembling on her chin. “Why won’t you fight me?” he demanded hoarsely. “Why won’t you scream, Ishani? Do you think your silence will break me? It won’t. It never will.”
Her voice was a whisper, but it sliced through him. “Because screaming won’t change the truth. You’ve already destroyed it.”
His hand dropped. For a long moment, he just stared at her, his own obsession reflected back at him like a mirror of shame. Then, without another word, he rose, turned away, and sat heavily on the couch across the room.
The night passed with him watching her from a distance, his mind a battlefield of love and fury, while she lay on the bed, her back to him, clutching her tears like a pillow.
There was no consummation. Only silence, and the haunting echo of a kiss born from anger.
---
[The Morning After]
Dawn came softly, golden rays filtering through the curtains. Ishani stirred, her face pale, her body still heavy with exhaustion. The mangalsutra rested cold against her neck, its weight a constant reminder of chains disguised as devotion.
The Rathore household bustled downstairs with preparations. Normally, the morning after a wedding demanded rituals—the new bride was to cook, to serve, to prove her worth to the family. But when Mrs. Rathore came to Ishani’s room, she only smiled sadly.
“Beta, you don’t have to do anything today,” she said gently. “Rest. We know yesterday was… difficult.”
But Ishani shook her head. she rose, wrapped herself in a simple sari, and followed her mother-in-law into the kitchen.
---
[The First Rosoi]
The kitchen smelled of spices and warmth. Servants offered to help, but Ishani refused politely. She wanted this to be hers. She chopped, stirred, and kneaded, her hands trembling at times but steady enough to hold onto resolve.
When the food was ready—simple dishes of dal, mater panir, and fresh chapatis,rice, fresh juice and khir—she placed them carefully on the dining table. Ekansh’s parents sat together, their faces touched with cautious pride. Ekansh entered late, his eyes flicking to her with unreadable intensity.
But before anyone could begin, footsteps echoed.
Ruchika.
She entered the hall dressed in pale blue, her face still lined with grief. Her eyes locked with Ishani’s, and for a moment, silence filled the room. Then, without hesitation, Ishani rose and pulled a chair beside her own.
“Sit,” she whispered.
The air tightened. Ekansh’s jaw clenched. Because Ruchika was angry at him. He pointed gun towards her. his eyes narrowing. But before he could speak, another voice joined them.
“Then make space for me too.”
It was Kabir.
Ekansh’s younger brother, the one often make trouble. He was a childish although he was adult but he still behave like child some time —his demeanor softer, his eyes less clouded by ambition. He walked in with casual grace, smirking lightly. He was away from home for business trip. So after he come back he got to know this. He also felt sorry for his bhabi because what Ekansh did was wrong.
“ I’m not going to let the new bride eat alone.”
He slid into the chair beside Ruchika, deliberately making the atmosphere lighter. “Bhabhi, what have you cooked? Please tell me it’s better than Ma’s karela curry.”
Mrs. Rathore gasped. “Kabir!”
But Ishani laughed softly—her first genuine smile since the wedding. “Don’t worry, no karela today.”
The tension broke like a crack in the sky. For a fleeting moment, the house felt less like a prison and more like a family again.
All of them start eating. Mr. Rathor prise Ishani genuinely "the khir tested good. Beta"
Kabir said "omggg!!!! Bhabi please give me the whole bowl"
Ishani slide the bowl to him but befor she can pass Ekansh hold it and start eating the khir like a madman.
---
From his seat, Ekansh watched everything unfold. His fists tightened under the tablecloth. He had forced the world to accept this marriage, and yet, in one morning, Ishani had shifted the balance. She had claimed not just the role of his wife but of the family’s daughter-in-law. She had pulled Ruchika back into their fold, and Kabir, ever the rebel, had sided with her without hesitation.
Ekansh burned. He wanted her eyes only on him, her loyalty chained to him. But here she was, weaving bonds he hadn’t sanctioned, winning hearts that he hadn’t allowed.
Ekansh glare at them angrily.
His parents smiled. Kabir teased. Ruchika clung to Ishani’s side like a lifeline. And Ishani herself… looked stronger than she had in days.
Something inside Ekansh cracked. His obsession had always been about making her his. But what if she became everyone’s before she became his?
---
That night, when the house had gone silent again, Ekansh confronted her.
“You think cooking a meal makes you part of this family?” he asked, his tone sharp, his eyes burning.
Ishani looked at him calmly. “No. I think love does. And unlike you, your family still understands that.”
Her words pierced him. He grabbed her wrist, pulling her close. “Don’t mistake their kindness for power. You are mine, Ishani. No ritual, no brother, no sister can change that.”
She did not flinch. Instead, she whispered, “Then prove it. Not with force. Not with fear. Prove it with love, Ekansh. Or else you will always be alone, even when I sit beside you.”
Her defiance, quiet yet unyielding, left him shaken. He released her, stepping back, his heart pounding with a storm he could not name.
For the first time, he wondered if possession was enough. Or if the real battle had just begun.
Ishani went back to sleep in bed. And Ekansh also left the couch to sleep.
---
Author Note 💌
🔥 Ekansh’s POV shows his storm—his obsession burns, but Ishani’s silence wounds him more than her hatred ever could. Their first night ends with nothing more than a kiss filled with anger.
💔 The morning after, Ishani surprises everyone by doing her first rosoi. She takes control, pulling Ruchika back into the family and finding unexpected support in Kabir, Ekansh’s younger brother.
👉 Question for you: Will Kabir and Ruchika become Ishani’s allies in the Rathore house, or will Ekansh’s growing fury tear the family apart?
Vote Team Allies (💔 Kabir & Ruchika stand by Ishani) or Team Divide (🔥 Ekansh isolates her further).
📸 Instagram: @author_ananya_09
📚 Scrollstck: @author_ananya_09
📖 Wattapad: @radhikarout

Write a comment ...