The courtyard was a spectacle of gold and crimson - silk drapes flowing in the warm evening breeze, crystal chandeliers casting fractured light over marble floors.

Waiters in white gloves moved between clusters of guests, trays balanced with precision, while at the edges of the celebration, black-suited men kept their eyes scanning the crowd.

Halfway across the hall, the eldest brother's Atharv phone vibrated. He glanced at the screen, a slow exhale, and the faintest tightening of his jaw - enough for the others to know something had shifted.he sighed sharply then looked around for any danger.

He slipped his phone back into his pocket, his expression unchanged, as if the message had been nothing more than a routine greeting.

But his next step veered - not toward the heart of the celebration, but toward the side corridor draped in gold fabric, leading to the palace's private wing.

He moved with the unhurried confidence of someone who never had to explain his absence. A waiter stepped aside without a word, and the shadows swallowed him.

From across the courtyard, the scond brother caught the shift in his path. His eyes narrowed, almost imperceptibly. The third didn't look directly, but the slight tilt of his head toward the exit was enough. The youngest's smile didn't falter as he poured champagne for a guest, but beneath the easy charm, his gaze flickered briefly to the same direction.

The music above was a distant hum now, muffled by layers of stone and silence. Down here, the air was cooler, heavier - carrying the faint scent of oil, gunmetal, and something darker.

The eldest brother's footsteps echoed against the bare concrete as he descended the final steps. The dim lights flickered once before steadying, throwing long shadows over the room.

Against the far wall, three men were already waiting - not guests, not friends. Their wrists glinted with steel cuffs, their faces pale under the harsh bulb. A pair of guars stood behind them, guns resting casually at their sides, but their eyes alert.

Atharv didn't waste words. He pulled off his sherwani jacket, revealing the matt-black holster beneath, and set it neatly on the table. His voice was calm when he finally spoke - the kind of calm that made men flinch.

"Which one of you thought it was a good idea to show up tonight?"

One of the prisoners swallowed hard but said nothing.

Upstairs, the wedding crowd clapped to the beat of the music. Down here, the sound of a chair scraping against concrete was the only applause.

He leaned forward, bracing his hands on the table, and smiled ,though it held no warmth.

"You have exactly one chance to tell me who sent you... before I make the music stop."

One of the men finally spoke, his voce trembling. "We... we were just told to watch. Nothing more."

A humorless chuckle escaped the atharv lips. "Watch?" He circled them slowly, the click of his polished shoes against concrete marking the seconds. "You were armed. That's not watching. That's trespassing in my house... on my night.

The second man shifted in his seat, chains rattling. "We didn't mean-"

The sharp crack of a backhand cut his words short. Blood beaded at the corner of his mouth.

The brother crouched in front of him his voice low, controlled. "You walk into my territory. You hide among my guests. And you think there's a version of this where you walk out?"

No one answered.

He straightened, slipped a silenced pistol from his holster, and rested it against the first man's temple. "I asked you once. I won't ask again."

Still, silence.

The shot was soft - almost polite - but the body slumped instantly, the chair scraping as it tilted.

The other two froze, breaths shallow.

"You've got five seconds," he said, pointing the gun at the next man.

When the only reply was a stuttered prayer, another muted shot rang out

By the time he turned to the last man, his patience had worn razor-thin. He didn't even bother with questions. A single squeeze of the trigger, and the basement was quiet again.

He holstered the gun, put his jacket back on, and glanced at the guards. "Clean it. Now."

Without another word, he walked back toward the stairs - toward the music, the lights, and the lie of celebration waitig above.

He took the service staircase up from the basement, emerging into a quiet side corridor far from the music and chatter. His stride was steady, unhurried - the kind of walk that drew no attention if anyone happened to glance his way.

No one did.

He kept to the shadows, cutting across the back of the hall and slipping into the private wing. Every step left a faint, dark smear on the cream carpet where droplets had fallen from his sleeve. The faint metallic scent clung to him, even over the expensive cologne.

His room was just ahead. A quickchange, a clean sherwani, and he'd be back in the celebration as if nothing had happened.

But as he pushed the door open, he stopped.

She was there - his wife - standing by the dressing table, fastening an earring. Her reflection in the mirror caught him before he could even step inside.

Her eyes lifted, narrowing, taking in the stains across his chest, the faint spatter along his jaw, the shadows in his gaze. The earring slipped from her fingers, landing silently on the table.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

"You've... been downstairs," she said softly, not a question, just a truth she already knew.

His jaw tightened. "Go back to the hall."

She didn't move. Her gaze stayed on him - not afraid, but searching - as the faint hum of the wedding music seeped into the silence between them.

He took a slow step toward the door, but she didn't flinch. Not a trace of fear. Only a calm, sharp awareness in her gaze, like she had already pieced together the horrors of the basement.

"You didn't need to..." she said quietly, almost whispering, her tone even, but every word carried weight.

He froze mid-step. His dark eyes scanned her, reading every nuance. "You think I had a choice?" His voice was low, measured, but every syllable dripped with controlled menace.

Her lips curved into a faint, knowing smile - not playful, but sharp, precise. "I never said you did. Just... don't make it messy here."

He exhaled slowly, tension coiling in his shoulders, then stepped closer. The faint scent of blood on his clothes mingled with his cologne, an intoxicating mix that made her shiver, though she didn't step back.

"You saw enough," he murmured, voice softening only slightly. "Tell anyone, and..." His words trailed, a promise and a threat all at once.

She tilted her head, unafraid, almost reverent. "I won't. But I'll remember."

That was enough. He finally allowed himself a brief moment to wipe the blood on a corner of his jacket, mask the evidence as best he could, and finally step into the room to change.

Outside, the wedding music continued - bright, joyful, oblivious. Inside, in that small, private room, there was only the heavy, silent understanding between two people who had seen the darkness and accepted it.

She turned toward the wardrobe with deliberate calm, moving like nothing had shifted in the world. Her hands selected a crisp new sherwani, folded neatly, and extended it toward him.

He didn't speak. He didn't ask. He didn't even glance at her face. He simply reached out and took the clothes, the fabric brushing against his blood-stained hands.

Not a word. Not a flicker of emotion between them. Just a quiet, mutual understanding: the chaos of the basement stayed there.

He stepped back slightly, holding the sherwani, and nodded once - the only acknowledgment he offered. She returned to her reflection, adjusting the earring she had left untouched moments ago, as if nothing had happened.

The air between them was taut but silent. The wedding music floated faintly from the hall, oblivious to the blood and violence that had just occurred.

The second brother Agastya stood near the ornate fountain in the courtyard, glass of whiskey in hand. His eyes scanned the crowd, noting every detail, every movement. Calm. Reserved. Unshakable.

A guest, grinning and holding a glass of champagne, leaned toward the second brother. "A cardiologist, huh? Quite a low profession, if you ask me. Just patching people up while others do the real work, right?"

His gaze sharpened, eyes narrowing. He didn't move, didn't smile. Instead, he studied the man with the calm intensity of someone who could make a decision about life and death with a single glance.

He took a slow, deliberate sip from his glass, then set it down, his stare unyielding. "Is that so?" His voice was soft, measured... but the weight behind it froze the guest mid-grin.

The man laughed nervously, realizing the edge behind the brother's calm. Around them, the faint murmur of the wedding continued, oblivious, but the subtle tension radiating from the second brother was impossible to ignore.

The guest straightened his posture, trying to recover some confidence, and laughed nervously. "Well... guess I better not bother the busy cardiologist anymore," he muttered, stepping back.

But he didn't move away. His hand, light but firm, brushed the guest's elbow. "You will come with me," he said, voice calm, almost casual - but with an unmistakable edge that left no room for argument.

Before the guest could protest, he was being guided through a side corridor, away from the glittering lights of the courtyard, away from the music, away from everyone who might notice. His heart raced, though he tried to keep his composure.

The corridor ended at a discrete service door.

Agastya entered the basement with him, silent as ever, and gestured toward the bed.

"Lie down,"he ordered flatly.

The guest's eyes widened. "W... what-"

Before he could finish, Agastya sighed, shoved him back, and pressed down hard on his chest. The man gasped, a choked sound escaping as blood seeped through an already deep cut. He fainted almost instantly.

Without hesitation, Agastya's hands moved with precise, practiced skill. He cut deeper, pulled out the still heart, and set it neatly onto a plate. His dark eyes lingered on it for a moment.

"This useless job killed you. Rest in peace."

Wiping his hands, he unbuttoned his old sherwani calmly, as though he'd just returned from work, not murder. Each step he took up from the basement was steady, collected, the air itself seeming to bend around his quiet authority.

In his room, he barely had time to breathe before his wife entered, twirling lightly on her heels, humming a tune, her hair flowing behind her as if she owned not only the house but the world inside it.

"Hello, Mr.,"she murmured playfully, walking toward the bed. She sat down, shamelessly running her gaze over him with no filter, no hesitation, as if he were nothing more than her reflection.

"You know,"she began with a mischievous smile, "someone once said that when butterflies run wild in your stomach, it means you're falling in love."

Agastya buttoned up his fresh sherwani, rolling his eyes.

"That's called acid reflux, not love. Try an antacid instead of these useless words."

She let out a long sigh. "Whatever."

He moved toward the table, sliding on his watch, eyes already drifting back to his work. She watched him with a smirk, her gaze lingering on every calculated movement.

Then, stepping closer, she caught his hand and traced a small heart on his skin with her red lipstick.

He frowned. "What is this?"

"Ufff, my sweet husband," she teased, "it's a heart."

"This is a heart?" His eyes narrowed, voice clipped.

"Yes,' she whispered, smirking as her finger trailed up to his neck. "My heart."

He exhaled sharply, rolling his eyes again, and firmly pulled his hand free.

"You should be at the wedding."

"I know," she said softly, slipping her arms around him from behind, "but I can't stand being away from my husband."

He didn't protest. He didn't move.

He simply let her cling to him-because they both knew her love was real.

And they both knew feelings and Agastya would forever remain enemies.

Wedding was almost done with the guest.samantha and gaurika standing near the mansion large door, waiting for the newly wedded couples to show together.

"Sam don't you think we will get so much shock on our first day?"gaurika asked playfully while smirking.

"Why so?".

"Because both brides coming inside this mansion are like feather,one blow and shhhh".

Samantha scoffed while shooking her head.

Agastya and atharv was standing far away from them, watching silently.their presence is enough for the guest to shiver.

Two black car entered inside the mansion.

From one car,sathvik came out ....his eyes glanced around coldly to find his brothers.fire dripping from his eyes.he didn't waited for his wife,not even opened car door for her and walked towards mansion door...Pavitra clutched her lehnga while looking at the mansion in front of her.it was too much huge ,like a palace for her.in her village,she spent her days in a single room....not any kitchen or a separate room.

"Where?"Samantha asked while glaring at sathvik.

"In my room,get aside".

"Not now you have to perform rituals first...stay here till your wife came"she replied coldly, leaving no room for argument.

He clenched his jaw while rubbing his temple.he is already frustrated because in car his wife was crying like someone snatched everything from her and now this.....

With slowed steps she came forward.samantha blankly put tilak on his forehead then hers, rounding aarti plate and then gesture her to come inside after touching kalash from her toes.

Pavitra clutched her lehnga,it was too heavy to held.she kicked the pot lightly and entered inside, followed but dipping her feets in alta.everyone clapped their hands in happiness except their family members.

Lakshya held his wife hand and together they walked towards the door . gaurika performed the same rituals for them and during this whole time,he didn't even left her hand for a second.

"You can come now my newcomers".

Lakshya chuckled softly while entering inside with her.

Three of the brothers didn't waited for anyone command or response,they all left towards their room like they was forcefully standing in all these.

Lakshya wrapped his one arm around her waist, pulling her closer"shall we go wifey,for....our first night"he whispered huskily in her ears .she clenched her jaw while nodding her head.

"Good choice now come"

They both went towards their room hands in hand.naira was trying hard to control herself from getting angry on him while he was enjoying every second of her frustration, pushing it further.

"So what you wants on your first night,just tell me i will bought whole package of it".

"Firstly shut your mouth "she muttered while clenching her jaw.

He chuckled while walking"hmm seems interesting,you are too cute whi....

"I said shut up"she growled, pointing her index finger.

He held up his hands high,surrending himself while making a innocent face "i am scared".

She rolled her eyes,freed herself from his grip and walked past him.he chuckled while running towards her"Abey wait for a while yaar".

🦋

"Come we will show you your room"Samantha spoke without any expression while gaurika smiled looking at her"let's go dream girl".

Pavitra nodded her head timidly.this whole mansion was eating her alive because of the equipments, technology etc.she clutched her fingers together and followed them silently.

"Hey your husband is dangerous so be safe ok"gaurika spoke while giving her a advice.

"Gauri stop scaring her"Samantha spoke without looking behind.

"Oh oh look she is so innocent,bechari ..... sathvik is ....

"Closed your mouth otherwise I will rip it apart ". Samantha growled while looking at them.pavitra gulped her saliva in fear while She giggled, squeezing her eyes"ok lawyer madam,i will not speak now ".

"Better for you".

Her eyes went towards Pavitra,too fragile for their world "and you.....he can get angry easily so behave nicely in front of him".

Pavitra nodded her head in fear.

"Why are you shaking your head like a goat, don't you have any sound in your mouth?"

"J...ji"Pavitra whispered confusedly.

"Hmm"Samantha spoke ready to walk when gaurika again jumped in conversation...

"What huhh?,she is confused about what you said....she didn't know English this much".

Samantha rolled her eyes"better for her".

After some time,they reached in front of his door.he was checking his gun when a knock appeared on his door but he ignored it.

After a while, knocking didn't stopped.he went towards his door and opened it with a jerk.

"What?"he asked angrily, throwing daggers on them.

"Your wife"gaurika murmured hiding behind Samantha and Pavitra.she always avoid him because of his anger but Samantha....

"So what?".

"She will sleep with you,on your bed beside you ...so....

Gaurika spoke but he cut her off in middle"told her to sleep in other room ".

"Really?"Samantha asked calmly ,her hands wrapped around her chest.

"Offcourse ".

"Ok, Pavitra come ".

They both entered inside while pushing him aside.he clenched his jaw but nothing came out from his mouth because he respected his bhabhi.

"It is your room now,sleep wherever you want....do what you want and if someone insisted just tell me"Samantha spoke coldly while glaring at sathvik.he rolled his eyes while stepping back.

They both left from his room , leaving Pavitra and sathvik alone.he scoffed while closing his door....not before peeking to check if she still here

The door clicked shut.

Pavitra stood nervously near the bed, clutching the edge of her lehenga as if it could shield her. Her eyes wandered across the room-too big, too polished, too intimidating.

Sathvik placed his gun back on the nightstand and leaned against the wall, arms folded, his gaze sharp.

"Don't just stand there,"he said coldly.

She flinched. "Ji... where should I-?"

"The bed?" he smirked faintly, but his tone dripped with mockery. "No. That's mine."

Her lips parted, unsure. "T...then?"

He turned his head slightly toward the side door. "There's a study attached to this room. A couch inside. Go sleep there."

Her chest tightened. "Couch?" she repeated softly, as if she hadn't heard him right.

"Yes," his voice dropped an octave, final and sharp. "You want luxury? , In my house, you'll take what I give."

Her fingers curled together, her eyes lowering. Without another word, she nodded and moved toward the small wooden door.

The study was dimly lit, bookshelves lining the walls, a heavy desk near the window, and a leather couch pushed to the side. It was neat, but lifeless-like every corner of his mansion.

She stepped inside hesitantly, whispering, "Ji..." but his voice cut her from behind.

"Shut the door."

She obeyed immediately. The click of the lock felt heavier than the room itself. She sat on the edge of the couch, pulling her dupatta around her tightly, shivering in silence.

Her eyes stung, her throat heavy. She tried to stay silent, but a few muffled sobs slipped out, her hands pressed over her mouth to hide them.

In the adjoining bedroom, Sathvik lay flat on his bed, staring at the ceiling. The room was quiet,except for the faint, broken sound that seeped through the closed door.

He heard it. Every sob. Every shiver.

But his face stayed blank, his body still. He clenched his jaw, shutting his eyes tightly, as if refusing to acknowledge it.

She wasn't his problem. Not now. Not ever.

When the night grew darker, her sobs finally faded into shallow, uneven breaths. Exhaustion had pulled her into a restless sleep on the couch.

And only then did Sathvik let out a long, controlled breath, turning to his side, one hand resting near his gun. His expression was calm again.

🦋

Naira pushed open the heavy door to their room, her steps fast and angry. She dropped her dupatta on the bed and turned away, fuming silently.

Behind her, Lakshya leaned lazily against the doorframe, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Arre, at least wait for your husband, hmm? Running away so fast... are you shy, wifey?"

"I'm not shy,"she snapped, untying her bangles one by one, her back to him.

'Good," he drawled, strolling closer, "because shy wives are boring. And I didn't marry boring."His arm slid casually around her waist, pulling her back against him.

"Leave me."She struggled, her jaw clenched.

"On our first night? Tch tch, bad manners," he whispered near her ear, deliberately lowering his voice.

Her patience cracked. She turned sharply, pushing him back. "Stop teasing me, Lakshya! I'm not in the mood for your games."

He grinned wider, completely unfazed, stepping even closer. "Mood banane ke liye hi toh husband hota hai."

Her nostrils flared as she grabbed a pillow from the bed and smacked it against his chest. "You're impossible!"

He caught the pillow easily, laughing. "And you're fiery. I like that."

"Ugh!" She spun away, crossing her arms, but her ears burned red.

He leaned on the headboard, watching her with amused eyes. "Come on, Naira... one smile, one word, and I'll stop teasing. Promise."

She glared at him, lips pressed tight.

"Fine,"he said dramatically, lying back and folding his arms behind his head. "Then I'll keep teasing you all night until you do smile. Let's see who wins, hmm?"

Her teeth ground together. "You'll regret this."

He chuckled, eyes closing, utterly relaxed. "Oh, I'm already enjoying it."

The room filled with her frustrated silence and his playful humming, a warning of patience and provocation that was far from over.

.