The atmosphere at the Raghuvanshi family dining table was anything but ordinary. Tension hung in the air like a storm waiting to break. Most faces around the table reflected vulnerability, but the man sitting at the head chair remained disturbingly emotionless. His indifference only served to fan the flames of Yunay’s simmering anger.
“I want to marry,” Yunay declared suddenly, his voice cutting through the heavy silence like a blade. All eyes turned to him, wide with shock, but Yunay’s gaze remained fixed on his father.
“Now, what’s this new drama, Yunay Samarth Singh Raghuvanshi?” Samarth’s voice was edged with irritation, his calm demeanor unshaken.
“Yunay, your father is right. It hasn’t even been—”
“I said I want to get married,” Yunay snapped, his tone firm, commanding, and leaving no room for debate. His mother’s interruption was silenced as abruptly as it began.
“Oh, so who is it this time? Who do you want as your next plaything, huh?” Samarth’s words dripped with disdain, igniting Yunay’s already volatile temper.
The sound of Yunay’s fist slamming down on the glass dining table reverberated through the room, shattering it into jagged pieces. Gasps echoed as everyone flinched at the sudden explosion of violence.
“Don’t you dare call him a plaything,” Yunay growled, his voice trembling with restrained rage. His eyes, moist and bloodshot, bore into his father’s with unyielding intensity. The veins in his neck bulged as he clenched his jaw, struggling to maintain control over his emotions.
“Aira. Aira Deshmukh. I want to marry her. At any cost, I want her to be my wife.” His words were like a final verdict, cold and resolute. Without another glance, Yunay stormed out of the dining room, leaving behind a trail of shattered glass and broken decorum.
Samarth rose slowly, his expression unreadable as he moved toward the door. “Apka nashta,” Divya’s soft voice stopped him in his tracks.
“Apke bete ke tamashe se pet bhar gaya humara,” Samarth replied curtly before walking out.
Nirvigh and Dhitya turned their attention to their mother, whose eyes were fixed on the shattered glass, now glistening with unshed tears.
“Maa, please don’t cry,” Nirvigh said gently, his voice laced with concern. Dhitya nodded in agreement, moving to hug their mother from either side.
Divya’s composure finally broke as tears rolled freely down her cheeks. Her soft sobs filled the room, amplifying the heartache that had been lingering unspoken. Seeing her cry, Dhitya couldn’t hold back her own tears, and Nirvigh’s eyes turned glassy with emotion.
The trio embraced, their collective sorrow spilling out in a cathartic release. For two days, they had kept their grief bottled up, and now it flowed unchecked.
After what felt like an eternity, Divya calmed herself and gently wiped the tear-streaked faces of her children with the edge of her saree’s pallu.
“Dekho toh, kitne baje rahe hain. Chalo jao, tum dono, warna late ho jaoge,” she urged, her voice steady but tender.
Both Nirvigh and Dhitya glanced at their wristwatches, realizing their mother was right—they were running late. They hugged her one last time before heading off to their respective schedules.
As they both left, Divya took a deep breath to steady herself. She called for the maid to clean up the mess in the dining room and then prepared to leave for the hospital.
---
Meanwhile, Samarth sat in the backseat of his car, his face impassive as he headed back to his office following a cabinet meeting.
“Tiwari, do a background check on Aira Deshmukh and schedule a personal family meeting with her father,” Samarth instructed, his tone firm but devoid of emotion.
The secretary, seated in the front, glanced at him briefly, waiting for further clarification. When none came, he turned back to his tablet and began noting down the order.
---
Sandstone Hospital
Yunay sat quietly on the chair beside his grandmother’s hospital bed, his posture weighed down by a mix of guilt and sorrow.
Saraswati, his beloved grandmother, lay motionless on the bed, surrounded by an array of medical equipment. The steady beeping of the ECG monitor and the soft hum of the cardiac monitor filled the room. A pulse oximeter clipped to her finger glowed faintly, while the blood pressure monitor displayed her vitals. An oxygen mask covered her face, and IV lines were inserted into her fragile hands, which rested limply on the bed.
Yunay’s head was bowed, resting on the empty space of the bed beside Saraswati. The tension in his chest eased slightly when he felt a gentle hand on his head, caressing his hair with a tenderness only a mother could offer.
“I’m sorry, Maa,” he murmured, lifting his face to meet his mother’s swollen eyes. The sight of Divya’s tear-streaked face shattered him just as much as the glass table he had destroyed this morning.
He knew his actions had been wrong—uncontrolled, reckless—but in that moment of fury, he couldn’t stop himself.
Divya gave him a weak smile, an unspoken assurance that she was okay now. Yunay gently took her hand from his head and held it close to his face, pressing it against his closed eyes.
The warmth of her touch brought him a fleeting sense of peace, but the storm inside him refused to calm. He felt restless, broken, and hurt, the weight of his emotions pressing down on him like a heavy burden.
“I think you should go and spend some time with Ravya. You know she needs you,” Divya said softly, her voice laced with concern.
“No, Maa. I can’t see her in tears.” A single tear escaped down Yunay’s cheek as the thought of Ravya crying flashed through his mind. His heart clenched painfully, goosebumps spread across his skin, and it felt as though the blood in his veins had turned to ice.
Divya patted his back as he continued to cry, her heart aching for her son. Yet, amidst her concern, one thing gnawed at her—the sudden announcement of marriage. She wanted to ask him about it, to understand what had prompted him to make such a declaration, but now was not the time. Not when he was so emotionally fragile.
A sudden buzz from Yunay’s phone broke the moment. He wiped his tears hastily and pulled his phone from his pocket, glancing at the screen.
“Maa, Papa’s calling,” he said, excusing himself from the room. Before leaving, he spared a glance at Saraswati, his dadi, and bid his mother goodbye.
“Hello?” he answered as he stepped out of the hospital, making his way toward the parking lot.
“Tomorrow at 11:00 PM,” came Samarth’s cold, clipped voice on the other end.
“Why so late? Why tomorrow? Why not today?” Yunay’s frustration was evident as he got into his car, started the engine, and began driving toward his office.
“If someone overheard you, they’d think you’re madly in love with her, impatient to make her your wife,” Samarth retorted, his tone laced with mockery. “For your information, she’s a doctor. She’s not free all the time; she has duties to fulfill.”
“Fine” Yunay said, rubbing his forehead in exasperation “And please, don’t tell Maa or Dadi the reason behind all this. You know how they’ll react—I don’t want them to worry about all this”
Samarth hummed in response before adding, “But Yunay, don’t forget—she’s a human being with emotions. No matter what your intentions are, she’ll still be your wife. So treat her right. Every woman has expectations from her husband, and as a husband, it’ll be your responsibility to fulfill those expectations. But if, for some reason, you can’t, just do one thing—respect her.”
Yunay scoffed at his father’s lecture, his irritation evident. Samarth shook his head on the other end of the line, his son’s ignorance exasperating him.
---
Yunay's POV
Even though I despise my dad for his cold demeanor, there’s one thing about him that I can’t help but respect—he never neglected us. No matter how busy or exhausted he was, he always fulfilled his duties as a husband, a father, and a son.
He isn’t some superhero of a father, but he’s the kind of man who ensured we had everything we needed or wanted. And that’s exactly the kind of person I want to be for Ishaan.
I hate it—absolutely hate it—when boys bullied him for being an orphan. I thought that bringing him home, giving him a place in our family, and admitting him to a prestigious school would ease his loneliness. But those bastards only made things worse. Their words, their actions—they tore him down. They made him feel unworthy, unwelcome.
I remember the day I promised myself that I would spoil him just like my father spoiled me. I’d love him the way my mother loved me—with all her heart. I wanted to be his family.
But it wasn’t enough.
That’s when I asked my parents to adopt him. I thought that would solve everything, make him feel like he belonged. But Ishaan—being Ishaan—refused. He said no. And his reason? Heirship. He said he didn’t want to interfere with the family’s legacy.
Such mature words coming from such a small kid melted my mother’s heart. She always loved him like her own son, but from that moment, she became even more protective of him. And my father, surprisingly, started treating him like his own son after our high school graduation.
In time, everyone in the family accepted him as one of us. Everyone, except for Devika—my so-called bua. But her opinion never mattered. Not to him, not to anyone.
Everything was going well. Ishaan was finally happy, finally at peace.
Until that day.
The day he saw her.
Aira Deshmukh.
She ruined everything. Everything.
It’s all her fault.
If only she hadn’t walked into our lives. If only she’d accepted his feelings after coming into our world. None of this would’ve happened.
You will pay for this, Aira Deshmukh. Just wait and watch. I’ll shatter you the same way you shattered my world. I’ll take everything from you, just as you took Ishaan from me.
I’ll make your life a living hell.
Aira Deshmukh, get ready to become Aira Yunay Singh Raghuvanshi.
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What do you think of all that has unfolded so far?
Thank you for taking the time to read this chapter. This is only the beginning of the story, and there is so much more yet to come. The journey ahead promises twists, revelations, and deeper connections.
If you enjoyed this chapter, I would truly appreciate it if you could like and leave a comment—your support means the world to me and inspires me to keep writing.
In the next chapter, we will catch a glimpse of Aira’s side of the story. Stay tuned; the tale is only just beginning!
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