Evening — On the road

Tears still stained Jharna’s cheeks as the cab idled at a traffic light. The driver glanced at her in the rearview mirror and cleared his throat. “Ma’am, can you please tell me where to go? We’ve been driving around the city for a while.”

Jharna snapped, voice raw, “What’s your problem? You’ll get paid. Just start the damn car.”

The driver muttered under his breath and turned the ignition — but before he could pull away, another car edged in front of them. “Not my day,” he cursed softly.

Jharna’s eyes followed the interruption. Ivaan stepped out, dropped a few notes into the driver’s hand and said, “Unlock the cab.”

The driver, stunned and grateful, obeyed. Ivaan opened the door and took Jharna in his arms like a man wanting to close the distance between two worlds.

“Get off me!” Jharna protested, struggling. “What are you doing? Let me go.”

He didn’t argue. He carried her to his car, gently but with a fierce urgency, and placed her on the passenger seat. The door clicked shut, then he slid into the driver’s seat and pulled away.

“Ivaan—” Jharna started again, breath coming short. “I’m so angry. Stop this. I don’t want to go with you.”

Ivaan said nothing. He drove.

They stopped at a hotel. He took her hand and led her inside, past polite staff, straight to a room. Once inside, he locked the door and finally let go of her hand.

Jharna pushed herself up, eyes flashing. “Why did you bring me here? You were ready to say goodbye, so be done with it. This is final — I want a divorce.”

Ivaan’s smirked. “Okay. So where will you actually plan to go after a divorce? Because your Meera di’s not going to Shimla anymore.”

Jharna’s mouth worked. She spat out a name like a dare. “I’ll go back to Cape Town. I’ll marry Manav.”

That name hit him like a thrown stone. His hand closed on her wrist. “Where did you even get that idea?”

“Calm down, Ivaan,” she said, trying to steady herself. “I was just saying it. I wouldn’t— I’m not actually going to divorce you.”

His grip tightened. The hurt in his voice was low and dangerous. “How could you even say that like it’s a joke?”

Jharna’s voice quivered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

He swallowed. “Do you know what it felt like when I saw you both in Cape Town? He knew about your clot but I didn’t. Do you have any idea how small I felt in front of him? Now do you understand… how painful is it to stay away from the one you love? I lived three years in a hole of pain and waiting. You can’t stand three minutes.”

Something in him finally gave way. He let her wrist go and moved to the window, breathing hard as he tried to calm the storm pounding in his chest.

Jharna crossed the room and wrapped her arms around him from behind, fingers lacing across his shirt. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I know saying sorry isn’t enough. But I promise — from now on, no matter what happens, I’ll never run away from you. Not again.”

Silence stretched between them. He still wouldn’t look at her. She moved to his side and faced him. “Ivaan. Please, say something. Punish me if you want, but—please—talk to me.”

Finally he turned to see her. “Yes, you deserve punishment,” he said, and there was a strange softness under the steel in his voice. He reached slowly and began to unbutton his shirt.

Jharna blinked. “Why are you taking off your shirt? Are you trying to make me wash your clothes?”

He removed his shirt and tossed it aside, taking slow steps toward her. Instinctively, she stepped back until her legs brushed against the bed, making her stumble and fall onto it. He leaned in closer, his eyes dark yet tender.

Her voice trembled as she whispered, “W-What are you going to do?”

Ivaan cupped her face gently in his palm and murmured, “I’m going to make you mine—so much that even you won’t think of leaving me again.”

He nuzzled against her neck, his lips brushing over her skin before capturing her mouth in a deep kiss. One hand tangled in her hair, the other sliding along her back. His fingers traced down her spine, lingering, until they loosened the knot of her blouse. The fabric slackened.

Her arms wrapped around him instinctively, holding him tighter as her heartbeat raced wildly. Without breaking the kiss, he slipped the pallu of her saree from her shoulder, his fingers gliding teasingly from her neck down to her cleavage, then to her stomach. He tugged the pleats of her saree free with a swift motion.

Overwhelmed, Jharna broke the kiss and pushed him back. She tried to rise, but before she could leave the bed, Ivaan caught her waist and whispered huskily, “It’s your punishment, sweetheart. You can’t escape.”

Her cheeks flushed crimson, and despite herself, a shy smile tugged at her lips.

Meera’s Apartment

Miransh was lying on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, lost in thought. Just then, Meera entered the room. Seeing him so quiet, she softly asked, “Miransh? What happened baby?”

He slowly sat up on the bed and whispered, “Eyelid… she misses her mother a lot.”

Meera sat beside him, confused. “Eyelid? You mean Palki?”

Miransh nodded, his little face tightening with hurt. “Her mother is so careless. She hasn’t even called her once. She’s… she’s a bad one.”

Meera gently shook her head and placed her hand on his shoulder. “Beta, a mother is never good or bad… a mother is just a mother. Maybe she has her own compulsions, something we can’t understand right now. No mother would ever willingly choose to stay away from her child.”

Miransh’s eyes dropped, thoughtful. “Like you… you were away from me for five years because you didn’t know where I was. And then Momma was away for three years… because she was sick.”

Meera brushed her fingers through his hair with a faint smile. “Hmm… maybe her mother also has a reason, a compulsion we don’t know.”

Miransh’s face turned serious as he thought deeper. Then, almost hesitantly, he asked,
“Mumma… just like Momma isn’t my real mother but you are… Dadda isn’t my real father either, right? Then… who is my real dad?”

Meera’s heart skipped a beat. Her breath caught in her throat.

Miransh looked at her with innocent curiosity, his words piercing her like a blade.
“Does he also have some reason, some compulsion, for staying away from me? Do you… do you have his number? Can I talk to him? I want to know what his reason is.”

Meera’s hands trembled. She had no answer—no words she could say—or maybe, she simply didn’t want to. Her voice quivered as she stood up.
“Miransh… it’s very late. You should sleep now.”

She turned away quickly, leaving the room. But Miransh followed her to the door.
“Mumma, I want to know who my real father is. I didn’t know you earlier, that’s why I hated you. If tomorrow he comes in front of me without me knowing… maybe I’ll hate him too. Please, tell me who he is.”

Meera’s composure broke. She turned sharply, her voice rising in desperation.
“You don’t need to know anything about him! The further you stay away from him, the better it will be for you!”

Without another word, she rushed into her room and locked the door.

Miransh stood outside, frozen. His small voice cracked as he whispered to himself,
“Why is my life so complicated? The woman I called Momma all my life wasn’t my real mother. My real mother was someone else. Dadda loves me so much, but he isn’t my real dad either. And now I’m told to stay away from my real father… but who is he? I don’t even know.”

He sighed deeply, the weight of questions too heavy for his young heart.

Hotel Room

Jharna’s heart pounded wildly in her chest. Ivaan gently brushed her hair aside and pressed a soft kiss on her bare back. Her fists clenched, her eyes fluttering shut as shivers ran through her.

He slid the fabric of her blouse from her shoulder, but before it could slip further, she suddenly turned and wrapped her arms tightly around him.

Ivaan held her close, his voice low and tender. “Jharna… should I stop here? If you’re not comfortable.”

Her reply came almost as a whisper, her lips trembling near his ear. “It’s my first time… of course I feel uncomfortable. But it depends on you—how you’ll make me feel comfortable.”

Ivaan’s lips curved into a reassuring smile. He gently pulled back and said softly, “One second.”

Before she could react, he moved around the room, placing candles one by one, their warm flames flickering to life. Then, he switched off the lights.

The soft glow spread, filling the room with a delicate aroma, shadows dancing on the walls. Jharna, slightly confused, walked up to him and asked, “And what exactly is this going to do?”

With a boyish pride in his tone, Ivaan replied, “We won’t be able to see each other clearly.”

Jharna arched a brow playfully and said, half-dramatic, “Oh really? But don’t you think feeling each other’s body without seeing can make things even more… uncomfortable?”

Ivaan rolled his eyes, unable to hide a chuckle. “Madam, I’m not experienced either. It’s my first time too. So maybe… a little darkness will help both of us.”

Her lips curved into a shy smile, her nervousness softening.

Ivaan’s hand reached for the edge of her saree. His eyes searched hers with silent permission as he asked, “So… may I?”

Jharna gave a small, hesitant nod.

With utmost care, Ivaan began to undrape her saree, the fabric slid against her skin, it felt soft and delicate as the candles burned softly around them.

Next Morning — Hotel

Soft sunlight slipped through the curtains, falling across Ivaan’s face. He stirred, blinking awake, stretching with a lazy yawn. Turning his head, his gaze fell on Jharna, curled against his chest, her hair scattered across his skin like silk.

Memories of last night’s tenderness washed over him, and an unbidden smile tugged at his lips. He couldn’t stop staring at her—the calm rise and fall of her breath, the warmth of her presence.

As if sensing his gaze, Jharna’s lashes fluttered open. For a moment, their eyes met—her sleepy gaze locking with his. Then, as the flashback of the night before struck her, she quickly buried her face against his chest, shyly hiding her blush.

Ivaan chuckled softly and wrapped his arms around her tighter. “I love you,” he whispered.

Her lips curved in a faint, sleepy hum of acknowledgment.

Just then, his phone buzzed on the bedside table. He reached out and checked the screen.

“Who is it?” Jharna mumbled, still on his chest.

“Your Meera di,” he said.

Her eyes flew open a little wider. “Oh no! I switched off my phone last night in anger… that’s probably why she’s calling you.”

Ivaan handed her the phone. She quickly answered. “Meera di?”

On the other side, Meera’s concerned voice came through. “Why is your phone switched off?”

Jharna rolled her eyes dramatically, covering her tracks. “Ah… probably the battery died.”

Meanwhile, Ivaan mischievously slid his hand along her bare waist under the blanket. Jharna squeaked and jumped, shooting him a glare. He only smiled wider, enjoying her reaction.

Meera, catching their muffled whispers, couldn’t help but smile knowingly. She got to the point. “Anyway, I wanted to ask—now that we know Chhaya is behind this, what’s the next step?”

Jharna placed the call on speaker and looked at Ivaan. “So… what do we do about Chhaya?”

Ivaan exhaled deeply. His voice was calm but steady. “Meera, you need to bring Chhaya to Maurya Mansion somehow.”

“What? How am I supposed to do that?” Meera protested. “I’ve only met her once. I don’t even have her number. How do I make contact?”

“I don’t think Chhaya is acting alone,” Ivaan explained. “She’s just a pawn. The real culprit is someone inside Maurya Mansion. I’ll send you her number—just get her there, and I’ll handle the rest.”

Meera hesitated, then agreed with a quiet hum before ending the call.

The room fell silent again. Jharna turned her head toward Ivaan, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “So… you still have her number?”

Ivaan gave a helpless little smile. “Ah, baby… it’s in the blocklist.”

Pulling her back into his arms, he brushed his lips against her hair.

Jharna sighed, giving him a sideways glance before humming softly, as if both accepting and teasing him at the same time.

***

Cab — On the Way

Chhaya sat nervously. “Meera… will you please tell me where we’re actually going?”

Meera’s eyes were firm but calm as she looked at her. “Chhaya, thank you for telling me everything. I’ve made up my mind—I’m bringing my sister back. I can’t keep her life in danger anymore.”

Chhaya swallowed hard. “Fine. But why are you taking me with you?”

“Because I can’t do this alone,” Meera said quietly. “If you’re with me, I’ll have the strength to face whatever comes.”

Chhaya’s thoughts spun wildly. If Ivaan finds out I poisoned her mind against him, he’ll kill me for sure.

She tried again, her voice trembling. “Meera, listen to me… this is your fight. You should—”

Before she could finish, the cab screeched to a halt.

Meera’s lips curved into a small smile. “We’re here.”

Chhaya’s eyes widened in dread. Meera stepped out, pulling Chhaya by the hand despite her resistance.

“Meera, please let me go,” Chhaya pleaded, her voice breaking. “Ivaan hates me… he’ll kill me.”

“Don’t worry. Just come with me,” Meera said firmly, tightening her grip.

Meanwhile, on the balcony of Maurya Mansion, Sagarika sipped her coffee. Her gaze fell on Meera and Chhaya walking up the driveway. The cup almost slipped from her hand.

Her heartbeat spiked. What is she doing here?

Panic flashing in her eyes, she quickly turned and rushed downstairs.

***

The heavy front doors swung open. Meera stepped inside, dragging Chhaya with her. Shikha and Abhimaan, seated in the living room, turned their heads in confusion.

Meera’s voice rang through the hall, sharp and commanding. “Ivaan Maurya!”

Her words echoed, just as Sagarika hurried in from the stairs, her face pale, heart thudding in her chest.

Moments later, Vihaan and Adhik appeared, alarmed by the shout. Adhik’s lips curved into a smile at seeing Meera—only for it to vanish instantly when his eyes fell on Chhaya standing beside her.

He stepped forward. “Meera ji, what happened? Why did you bring her here?”

But Meera didn’t answer. Her eyes stayed fixed ahead. She shouted once again, louder. “Ivaan Maurya!”

And then he appeared. Ivaan descended the staircase with Jharna by his side. His gaze swept the room before landing squarely on Chhaya. She froze, her throat dry.

Without a word, Ivaan gestured to Jharna. She immediately moved to the door and bolted it shut. The sound of the lock echoed like a warning.

“What’s happening?” Shikha’s voice broke the silence, her confusion deepening.

Meera released Chhaya’s hand. In the next instant, Ivaan pulled out a gun and aimed it straight at Chhaya’s forehead. Gasps filled the hall. Sagarika clamped her hand over her mouth in shock.

“I warned you,” Ivaan’s voice was cold as steel. “One more mistake, and you’re finished.”

Chhaya’s body trembled, sweat beading on her forehead.

“You know what I’m capable of,” Ivaan continued, his eyes dark. “If you vanish today, no one will ever even realize you existed.”

Her knees shook beneath her.

“Bhai, what has she done?” Vihaan asked, bewildered.

“Everything,” Ivaan snapped. His voice thundered through the hall. “Every disaster we’ve faced till now—she was behind it. But not anymore.”

His finger tightened on the trigger, ready to fire.

But before the shot rang out, Sagarika darted forward and wrapped her arms around Chhaya, shielding her.

The room froze. Shock rippled through everyone.

And Ivaan… he smiled. A knowing, dangerous smile.

***

Sitara’s Note

So finally, our leads chose to stop running—from fears, from doubts, from each other. This wasn’t just togetherness of bodies, but a promise of souls—that no matter what the world throws at them, they’ll face it as one.

But the story isn’t over yet. Sagarika’s truth is about to surface, and with it, so many questions arise.

What will Vihaan feel when he learns about his wife?
What is Antra’s (Sagarika and Chhaya’s mother) connection with Mauryas?
Will Meera accept Adhik?
Who really is Miransh’s father?
Why do Meera and Ivaan feel such an unspoken familiarity with each other?
What is Abhimaan hiding from everyone?

Every secret, every truth, is on the verge of being revealed. And with each answer, more questions will emerge.

The story began with twists, and it continues with questions…
— Sitara Chandria

changed into fresh clothes, the ones Vinit had brought from home as she had asked. She now wore a pristine white suit paired with a striking red dupatta.

“Vinit must have already set up the stall. I should leave now,” she murmured before stepping out of the room.

Upon reaching the stall, she spotted Vinit, who greeted her with a reassuring smile.
“Ma’am, everything is ready. You were worrying for no reason,” he said confidently.

Before Jharna could respond, the event manager approached, scanning the stall with a keen eye.

“Hmm… Looks like your preparations are complete,” he remarked.

Jharna offered a polite smile. “Yes, sir. Everything is set.”

Vinit added enthusiastically, “In fact, two gentlemen have already tasted our cakes and cookies. They were quite impressed!”

The manager smirked. “Seems like I made the right choice appointing you.”

With that, he nodded in approval and walked away.

Curious, Jharna turned to Vinit. “Two men?”

***

Meanwhile, Vihaan and Adhik were savoring the cookies and cakes.
“Damn, I’ve never tasted anything this good before,” Adhik said, relishing every bite.

Vihaan nodded in agreement.

Across the room, Ivaan stood before a mirror, adjusting his all-black ensemble. As he tightened his tie, he caught sight of his brothers enjoying the cakes and cookies and rolled his eyes.

Adhik walked over, offering him a perfume bottle. “Here, Bhai. Apply this before anyone notices—”

“—that someone splashed dirty water on you,” Vihaan finished, bursting into laughter with Adhik.

Ivaan shot them a murderous glare.

Vihaan, still chuckling, nudged him. “Relax, Bhai. Have some cookies. They’re insanely good.”

Ignoring him, Ivaan turned back to the mirror.

Adhik smirked. “By the way, that girl is still here. You know… at this event.”

Vihaan, munching on another cookie, grinned. “Hmm, so that means we can meet her again.”

Adhik laughed mischievously. “Hahaha! Bhai, maybe you should wear something waterproof next time, so—”

Ivaan’s sharp glare silenced him immediately. Frustrated, he thought to himself, “I swear, I never want to see that girl again.

At the stall, Vinit was busy double-checking everything while Jharna seemed lost in thought. Noticing her distraction, he called out, “Ma’am?”
Snapping out of her reverie, she looked at him.

“You can call Miransh, if you’re missing him,” Vinit said with a knowing smile.
Jharna chuckled softly and nodded.

“Don’t worry, ma’am. I’ve got things handled here. Go ahead and talk to him,” he assured her.

Grateful, Jharna stepped aside and dialed Malini’s number.

On the call, Malini answered cheerfully. “Jharna, how’s everything going? All good?”

“Yes, aunty. Everything is fine,” Jharna replied.

Malini hesitated. “By the way, how did your clothes get ruined?”

At the mention of it, Jharna’s mood soured. The incident with Ivaan flashed in her mind. She rolled her eyes.

“Ugh, don’t even ask, Aunty. It was because of that arrogant, self-absorbed, ill-mannered brat. Not only did he make the mistake, but he also had the audacity to give me attitude!” she huffed.

Unbeknownst to her, Ivaan was standing right behind her, listening to every word.
Vihaan and Adhik, witnessing the scene, barely contained their laughter before slipping away.

Meanwhile, completely oblivious, Jharna continued, “Anyway, forget about him. I don’t want to ruin my mood thinking about that jerk.”

“Aww, alright. By the way, Ansh is out playing with his friends right now,” Malini informed her.

Jharna sighed. “Oh… I really wanted to talk to him. Never mind, I should get back to work.”

She ended the call and turned around—only to lock eyes with Ivaan’s intense gaze.

Surprised, she took a step closer, folding her arms. “Don’t you have any manners? Eavesdropping on someone’s conversation?”

Ivaan’s expression remained impassive. “If you talk that loudly, anyone can hear you.”

Jharna scoffed. “Then why are you standing here in the first place?”

His lips curled into an arrogant smirk. “The Ivaan Maurya doesn’t need permission to stand anywhere. And I’m certainly not answerable to anyone.”

Jharna raised a brow. “Well, The Jharna Kashyap doesn’t tolerate unnecessary attitude from anyone.”

She turned to walk away, but his next words stopped her in her tracks.

“You’re just a worker here, and I’m your boss. Remember your place and limits before talking to me like that.”

His condescending tone made her blood boil. She spun around, stepping closer until she was staring straight into his eyes.

“First of all, you are not my boss. I am here for catering, not for you. And second, I don’t even want to talk to you, let alone stay in any so-called ‘limits’ of yours,” she snapped, her voice laced with cold defiance.

Ivaan clenched his jaw, his frustration evident. “You—!”

Before he could say another word, an announcement about the event’s commencement echoed through the hall. He exhaled sharply, reigning in his temper.

Both of them rolled their eyes and turned to walk away—only for Jharna’s dupatta to get caught on his blazer’s button.
Their gazes met again, lingering for a fleeting moment.

Jharna quickly tugged her dupatta free, breaking the connection. Without another word, they walked away in opposite directions.

But just then—

A familiar figure arrived at the event.
Wait… what?!

Miransh?!

But wasn’t he supposed to be playing with his friends?

More importantly… how did he even get here?

Something unexpected was about to unfold.

But don’t worry, my dear readers. Sit back and enjoy what’s coming next.

***

Sitara’s Note

Some people clash like thunder, and others burn quietly like simmering embers. But when two strong egos like Jharna and Ivaan cross paths, sparks are inevitable—and so is the heat.

While writing this chapter, I found myself smiling at their sharp exchanges, the boldness in their words, and that stubborn refusal to back down. There’s something addictive about two people who can’t stand each other… yet keep colliding in the same space, isn’t there?

Behind all the taunts and eye-rolls, there’s a hidden layer of emotion that even they aren’t ready to accept. But trust me, when hearts begin to shift, even the strongest egos falter.

Thank you for staying with me through every glare, every comeback, and every unexpected turn. If their chemistry made you smirk—or if that dupatta moment made your heart flutter—do drop your thoughts in the comments.

I’m reading. Always.
– Sitara Chandria