Almost half an hour later…
The bathroom door opened, and a soft layer of steam drifted into the room. Adhvir stepped out, fresh and composed — that same quiet intensity in his face that made him stand apart from the rest of the world. He buttoned his white shirt, fixed the silver watch around his wrist, and neatly set his hair before his eyes fell back on the laptop screen.
The screen still showed the same sight Avira, deep in sleep, lost somewhere in peaceful dreams. Even the sound of her gentle breathing seemed to echo inside his chest. A faint smile curved on his lips — tender, but behind that softness hid a strange kind of madness.
Just then, his phone buzzed. The name flashing on the screen read — Nablo.
His face turned cold, expression tightening with authority as he answered, "Speak."
From the other side came Nablo's voice, "Sir, we've found the man who set our factory on fire."
Adhvir's eyes flickered with a different light — dark, dangerous. The corner of his lips curled into a devilish smirk as he said in an unnervingly calm tone,
"Okay then... bring him here. To India."
He ended the call. Silence filled the room again — but the atmosphere was no longer the same.
Adhvir connected his laptop to the projector. Now, Avira's sleeping face appeared on the large screen — serene, glowing, almost divine. Like the most precious painting displayed in an art gallery, placed right at the center where everyone could see it… except this gallery belonged only to him.
He glanced once at the screen and then walked toward the kitchen.
The coffee machine began to hum. He placed bread in the toaster, cracked an egg into the pan, and started whisking.
But though his hands were busy, his heart — and his eyes — were elsewhere.
Watching her.
He chuckled softly to himself, shaking his head.
"Oh God… you're driving me crazy, clumsy girl."
Then his voice lowered — rough, intimate, aching —
"You have no idea how much I'm controlling myself."
On the big screen, Avira clutched her pillow in her sleep, completely lost, unaware of the world, of fear, of noise… of Adhvir Roy.
He whispered, almost to himself —
"And here you are… sleeping so peacefully… while I'm burning alive watching you."
And then, like an old habit, his lips began to hum softly —
"Bahon mein de bas jaane,
Seene mein de chhup jaane,
Tujh bin main jaun toh kahaan...
Tujhse hai mujhko paane,
Yaadon ke wo nazraane,
Ek jin pe haq ho bas mera…"
His voice wasn't filled with pain — it was something darker, deeper — an obsession wrapped in affection.
Breakfast was ready, but his hunger wasn't for food anymore.It was for her innocence — that fragile calm he could only watch, not touch.
Meanwhile…
Morning had arrived — and Roy Mansion was glowing with life.
The house was bursting with movement. The fragrance of fresh flowers filled the air; new curtains were being hung; marble floors shone like mirrors; and every corner of the mansion seemed to smile — awaiting the return of Adhvir Roy.
A message had gone out to every staff member the night before:
"Sir Adhvir is coming back home tomorrow night."
And that one line had turned the mansion into a festival.
Everyone was up early, busy, smiling — but no one more than Mrs. Riddhima Roy, Adhvir's mother.
She had been awake since dawn, taking charge of every little detail."His favorite dishes must be ready — everything should be perfect," she said, monitoring even the kitchen staff herself.
Her eyes held no sleep, only the warmth of years of waiting — the ache of a mother finally ending. The house, from its shining floors to its golden doors, felt alive again.
In the drawing room, new décor glimmered.
In the garden, fairy lights were being strung.The temple lamps were lit.
And on every worker's face — a smile.
Not just because the boss was returning… but because the son of the house was coming home.
Riddhima's eyes filled again and again, but she didn't want anyone to see. She just kept saying softly, "Everything should be perfect… my son should feel the same warmth he left behind."
Her heart was lost in the image of the moment when Adhvir would open the door, say "Mom," and pull her into his arms.
Lost in those thoughts, she suddenly felt a pair of arms hug her from behind.
A soft, bubbly voice chirped,
"Big Mom… you must be so happy today! Brother's finally coming home!"
Riddhima smiled the kind of smile only mothers have tender, full, trembling with emotion.
She turned to see Devanshi Roy her younger brother-in-law's daughter, only 18, but the life of the house.
Riddhima cupped her cheek gently.
"Yes, my child… I'm so happy today, more than I can ever say."
And she meant it. The happiness in her words could be felt.
Just then, Vansh and Devansh — Riddhima's nephews — joined them. Both looked cheerful and mischievous.
Devansh, now an emerging singer, grinned widely,
"Big Mom, today I'll fill this house with music!"
He glanced playfully at Vansh.
"And you, Vansh — I'm warning you, if you can't stop yourself from dancing to my songs, you're paying me!"
Vansh quiet, reserved, always smiling politely chuckled,
"Fine… but only if your song's a hit."
Devanshi burst into laughter.
"When has my brother ever failed to make a hit?"
Riddhima watched them her heart swelling with peace.
This house… finally felt complete again.
Meanwhile, chaos continued.
Riddhima personally supervised the arrangements, while Devanshi chattered, Devansh teased, and Vansh smiled silently thoughtful as always.
Vansh, the elder son of Riddhima's brother-in-law, was quiet yet determined a man who believed that "if dreams are big, your thinking must be bigger."
Just then, Devanshi asked with a giggle,
"Is Maya still not awake?"
Both boys exchanged knowing glances, smirking as if to say, "Who dares wake her?"
Inside a large room draped in pale blue curtains, soft sunlight filtered in. The sounds of laughter and clinking dishes seeped faintly through the walls… but inside, there was silence.
Under a heap of sheets, a girl tried covering her ears with a pillow.
Maya Roy.
Vansh's younger sister, a year older than Devanshi — blunt, fierce, spoiled, and unapologetically herself.
She wasn't made for shades of grey. Her world was simple — she either loved, or she hated.
When the noise outside became unbearable, she threw the sheet off, hair messy, eyes half-open.
One glance at the clock — 7 a.m.
She groaned,
"Really? Oh God!"
Her tone was annoyed, but there was still a spark — the kind that made her who she was.
She had no idea what all the noise was about yet.
Stretching lazily, she finally got up and went to freshen up.
Meanwhile…
Golden sunlight streamed through the window as Avira came down the stairs — ready for the day.
Her hair fell loosely over her shoulders, swaying with every step. There was a calm rhythm in her movements like she was already halfway into her dreams.
In the prayer room, Mrs. Anjali rang the temple bell softly, singing the morning hymn.
As Avira reached the door, she heard her mother's voice,
"Beta, have some breakfast before you go."
Avira turned with a smile, glanced at the clock — and winced. She was already late.
"Sorry, Mom! Not today… I'll grab something later!" She waved and hurried out.
Just as she stepped outside, a white SUV slowed to a stop.
Jasmine rolled down the window and shouted,
"Get in, girl! We're already late!"
The car was being driven by Daksh. His face was calm — too calm — but his eyes betrayed a restless energy.
Avira slid into the backseat beside Jasmine. The two girls were laughing and chatting non-stop, unaware of Daksh's glances through the rear-view mirror… that kept finding their way to her reflection.
After about half an hour, the white SUV stopped in front of the college gates.
Jasmine grabbed her bag, opening the door,
"Bye! See you in the evening, bro!"
Avira smiled that soft, genuine smile that made her seem untouched by the chaos around her.
The girls were about to disappear into the crowd when Daksh suddenly opened his door. His tone urgent
"Wait, Avira!"
Jasmine walked ahead while Avira turned, puzzled.
"Yeah? What is it?"
Daksh stepped closer - too close.
He reached up, fingers brushing through her hair as he said softly,
"There's something stuck in your hair…"
Avira froze for a moment, not startled, just uncomfortable.
She had no idea what kind of storm that small, innocent touch had just unleashed.
Because not far away… inside a sleek black Range Rover parked by the curb…
Adhvir Roy was watching.
He had been ignoring the college chaos outside until that moment.
The moment he saw Daksh's hand in Avira's hair.
Something snapped.
His hands clenched around the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles turned white. His jawline hardened. His eyes sharp, dark, burning locked on the scene ahead.
The air inside his car felt heavier. His breath came slower. His stare didn't waver for a second.
Possessiveness wasn't new for Adhvir Roy… but this — this was something else.
And now… the question was ...! What will he do next? Please stay tuned