The Balcony and the Beginning

The doors of Rathore Mansion opened, heavy and grand — but Poornima stepped in gently, as if entering a temple.

Her bridal veil had been pushed back now, her eyes scanning the unfamiliar walls.

Every room whispered stories soaked in blood, power, and silence.

She walked slowly into her room — now their room. It was elegant but cold. Polished wood. Dark tones. Bare.

No flowers. No warmth. No welcome.

Except for one place…

The balcony.

She stepped out.

The evening wind kissed her cheeks, and for the first time that day — she smiled faintly.

Down below, the city blinked with a thousand unsaid lives. Up here, it was just her and the sky.

And then…

A shadow.

She turned.

Veeresh Rathore stepped beside her, his presence calm and dangerous like a storm in still air.

He didn’t look at her. Just stood there. Close.

He lit a cigarette, the flame flickering against his sharp jawline.

> “Why didn’t you say no to this alliance?” he asked, voice quiet, but unblinking.

Poornima looked ahead. No fear. Just honesty.

> “I ran away from home once,” she said. “To study. To live freely. Appa never stopped me. He let me chase everything that made me happy.”

She looked at him. “And now… he asked for just one thing. This marriage. I owed him that one yes.”

Veeresh took a drag, let the silence grow heavy again.

> “With me…” he muttered, “Your life will not be peaceful. It will be dangerous. People die around me. I am not what girls dream of.”

“I’m not soft. I’m not safe. I’m not… sweet.”

Poornima didn’t say a word.

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Later that Night – The Room

The room was dim. Cold breeze drifted in through the open balcony doors.

Poornima lay on the edge of the bed, stiff as a statue, her back turned.

Veeresh dropped his sherwani coat and walked to the other side.

A pause.

> “You want me to pull you,” he said, “or will you come closer on your own?”

Her heart skipped.

Before she could answer, he moved — strong arms sliding around her waist, pulling her back firmly against him.

> “You look good,” he whispered. No flirt. Just truth.

She felt the heat of his palm on her side. Not possessive. Not wild.

Just there.

Protective. Sure.

He closed his eyes… and slept off like the world didn’t matter.

Poornima blinked in the dark. She didn’t push his hand away.

Her heart whispered softly:

> “He has a right on me now.”

And slowly, she closed her eyes too — and slept, wrapped in his quiet chaos.

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