The Rathore mansion gleamed that evening — golden lights, jasmine garlands, and the soft murmur of guests arriving in elegant attire. The engagement ceremony of Veeresh Rajawat and Poornima Rathore had already become the talk of the city. Two powerful business families joining hands — a merger disguised as a marriage.

But behind the glitter and champagne smiles, nothing was as perfect as it looked.

Poornima stood in front of the mirror, her stylist adjusting the heavy diamond necklace around her neck. Her reflection stared back at her — flawless makeup, perfect hair, the picture of grace. But her eyes… her eyes were hollow.

Her mother entered quietly. “You look beautiful, beta,” she said softly.

Poornima forced a smile. “Thanks, Mom.”

“You’ll be fine,” her mother tried to reassure her. “Veeresh is a good man. Maybe this is how fate wanted things.”

Poornima’s lips tightened. Fate. The word felt like a cruel joke.

Before she could respond, the announcement echoed through the hall.

“Mr. Veeresh Rajawat has arrived.”

Her breath hitched.

He entered with the confidence of a man who owned every room he stepped into. Dressed in a crisp black sherwani, Veeresh looked striking — composed, commanding, unreadable. Guests turned, whispering admiration and curiosity.

Poornima’s fingers trembled slightly as her father led her toward the stage. She could feel Veeresh’s eyes on her, calm and steady — not soft, not cruel — just cold.

When they stood side by side, photographers surrounded them. The flashes blinded her as she forced a smile.

Veeresh’s hand brushed hers only for formality, his grip firm, controlled — like a reminder that she had no say in this.

Her father cleared his throat. “Let’s begin.”

As the rings were exchanged, applause filled the room. Poornima felt the metal slip onto her finger, heavy as chains. Veeresh’s expression didn’t change — no warmth, no joy. Just the faintest flicker of satisfaction.

When she looked up at him, her voice barely a whisper. “Are you happy now?”

His lips twitched — not quite a smile. “Happiness isn’t what I’m after.”

The words chilled her more than any insult.

After the ceremony, guests crowded around them, offering congratulations, compliments, blessings. Veeresh played his role perfectly — polite, composed, every inch the successful groom. Poornima stood beside him, silent, her jaw tight as she heard people praising their “chemistry.”

Later that night, when the crowd began to thin, she finally found a moment alone with him near the balcony. The sound of laughter and clinking glasses faded behind them.

“Tell me one thing,” she said quietly, her tone sharp but trembling underneath. “What’s your plan, Veeresh? You’ve got the revenge you wanted. What now?”

He didn’t look at her, his gaze fixed on the rain-soaked garden outside. “You think revenge ends with a wedding?”

Her pulse quickened. “Then what do you want from me?”

He finally turned, his eyes dark and calm — too calm. “Nothing. Just for you to live with the same silence you left me in back then. That’s all.”

Her throat tightened. “You hate me that much?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he straightened his cuffs, his tone flat. “Hatred takes effort. You’re not worth that anymore.”

That hurt more than she expected.

Poornima took a step closer, searching his face. “You’re lying. You still feel something — even if it’s hate.”

Veeresh met her gaze without blinking. “You’re mistaking interest for emotion, Poornima. You’re useful. That’s all.”

Her hand trembled. She wanted to slap him, to scream — but his indifference killed every word on her tongue.

He turned to leave, his voice low and final. “Get used to this, Mrs. Rajawat-to-be. You’ll be seeing a lot of my silence.”

And with that, he walked away, leaving her standing under the chandelier lights — her engagement ring glinting like a reminder of everything she’d lost.

Outside, the rain started again.

Inside, Poornima realized something far worse than anger —

Veeresh Rajawat didn’t just want revenge.

He wanted control.

And he already had it.