27. You are gone Kanishk Verma

As the car pulled up at the grand gates of the Ranawat mansion, the silence between Shivaay and Niharika was deafening. The sky had darkened, mirroring the storm raging within them. Niharika sat stiffly, her arms crossed, refusing to even glance in his direction. Shivaay, on the other hand, gripped the steering wheel tightly, his mind in turmoil.

Inside the mansion, Shweta sat anxiously in the living room, flanked by the other family members. The absence of both Niharika and Shivaay had left everyone worried, and the tension was palpable. Ishaan and Ivaan had gone out to look for her as well but hadn't returned yet.

The sound of the main door opening caught everyone's attention. Shweta stood up immediately, her face a mixture of relief and concern, as she saw Shivaay enter, followed by Niharika. Niharika's expression was calm but detached, as though she were a stranger in her own home.

Shweta hurried forward, addressing Niharika gently. "Beta, are you okay? Where were you? We were all so worried."

Niharika gave her a faint smile and nodded. "I'm fine, Ma." Her voice was polite but distant. She avoided meeting anyone's eyes, especially Shivaay's.

Shweta turned to her son, her expression hardening. "Shivaay Singh Ranawat, what is going on? What did you do to make her leave like that?"

Shivaay opened his mouth to respond but was silenced by Shweta's sharp glare. "You've disappointed me deeply today, Shivaay. This is not how I raised you. Apologize to her properly, and this time, mean it."

Indra, who had been quietly observing, spoke up in a low but firm voice. "Shivaay, I expected better from you. It's not just about your ego. Your actions have consequences, not just for you, but for this family. Fix this."

Niharika finally broke the silence. "Please, don't blame him. I think we've both said and done enough for today." Her tone was tired, and it was clear she wanted to retreat. "If you don't mind, I'd like to rest."

Before anyone could respond, she turned and began walking toward her room. Shivaay watched her go, his chest tightening with an unfamiliar ache.

Shweta grabbed his arm, pulling him aside. "You will make this right, Shivaay. You hear me? Whatever it takes, you will make her feel respected and valued in this house. I'm ashamed of what I witnessed today."

Shivaay looked down, guilt and frustration warring within him. "I'll try, Ma."

"No," Shweta snapped. "You will do it. And don't you dare take her for granted again."

As the night deepened, the Ranawat mansion fell into uneasy silence, but one thing was clear-this storm was far from over.

As the heavy silence filled the room, Indra Singh Ranawat rose from his seat, his authoritative presence commanding everyone's attention. His eyes bore into Shivaay with disappointment that ran deeper than words could convey.

"Shivaay," he began, his voice steady but laced with reprimand. "I have built this family's name on respect and integrity. What you did today does not align with the values I have instilled in you. If you cannot treat your wife with the dignity she deserves, then you are no better than those who destroy families instead of building them."

Shivaay clenched his fists, struggling with the weight of his father's words. "But, Bauji, I-"

Indra raised his hand, cutting him off. "Enough excuses. You accused her without understanding the full truth. You didn't just insult her, Shivaay-you insulted this family by behaving so recklessly. Marriage is not a game; it is a responsibility, one that you took on the moment you married her. And instead of protecting her, you've hurt her in the worst possible way."

He paused, letting his words sink in. "A man who cannot respect his wife, Shivaay, cannot expect respect from others. You have not only let her down, but you've let me down as well."

Shivaay's jaw tightened, guilt surging through him. He glanced toward the corridor where Niharika had disappeared, her retreat echoing louder than any argument.

Indra took a deep breath, his tone softening slightly. "You still have a chance to fix this, but that window is closing. Go to her, not because your mother or I are telling you to, but because it's the right thing to do. A true Ranawat stands by his family, especially in times of conflict."

Shweta nodded in agreement. "Your father is right, Shivaay. You've hurt her deeply, and it's up to you to earn her trust back. Apologies aren't enough; actions matter."

Shivaay stood there, torn between his pride and the guilt clawing at him. He couldn't deny the truth in their words, even if it stung.

"Fine," he said after a long moment, his voice low but resolute. "I'll do it. I'll talk to her."

Indra gave a single nod, his stern gaze unwavering. "See that you do, Shivaay. This is your second chance-don't waste it."

With that, the patriarch of the Ranawat family returned to his seat, leaving Shivaay to grapple with the gravity of his actions and the path he needed to take to make things right.

Shivaay stormed into the study, his usual composure shaken to the core. He shut the door behind him with a firm click, leaning against it for a moment before letting out a frustrated sigh. His hands instinctively went to his blazer, shrugging it off and tossing it onto the nearby chair. He loosened his tie with a swift tug and undid the first two buttons of his shirt, desperate for some air, as if that could lighten the burden pressing on his chest.

His eyes scanned the bookshelf, searching for anything that could distract him, anything that could drown out the thoughts of her-Niharika. Finally, his hand landed on a well-worn book, its thoughtful title promising an escape. He sat down in the plush leather chair, opened the book, and tried to focus on the printed words.

But it was futile.

Every time he turned a page, her image flashed in his mind-her tear-filled eyes, the trembling strength in her voice as she stood up to him, and the devastation he had caused. Shivaay clenched his jaw, gripping the book tighter, the edges digging into his palms.

"Why can't I stop thinking about her?" he muttered under his breath, his voice a mix of frustration and self-loathing. He leaned back, resting his head against the chair, staring at the ceiling as if it held the answers he sought.

His mind wandered to every moment since their marriage-her quiet resilience, her subtle grace, and the fire in her eyes when she defended herself. She wasn't just a woman he had misunderstood; she was a storm he had underestimated.

For the first time, guilt churned in his chest so violently it felt unbearable. He ran a hand through his hair, closing the book with a thud.

"She's more than what I gave her credit for," he admitted to the empty room, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I've wronged her in ways I can't undo."

Yet, amidst the guilt, a sliver of hope flickered in his heart-a desperate desire to set things right, not just because his family demanded it but because something deeper within him told him she deserved more. Much more.

He stared at the closed book in his hands, the words blurred and meaningless. His thoughts weren't in the pages; they were with her. And for the first time, Shivaay realized that no book, no distraction, could help him escape the truth: he needed to face Niharika, not as a man bound by duty, but as someone who owed her an apology and an effort to mend what he had shattered.

The thought of someone else, a man like Kanishk Verma, daring to be associated with Niharika was like poison in Shivaay's veins. His fingers drummed against the polished oak desk of his study as his mind whirred with restless energy. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't shake the image of her face-the pain, the vulnerability, and worst of all, her words.

Shivaay Singh Ranawat was not a man who allowed anyone to cross the lines he drew, and the fact that Kanishk Verma had even been a shadow in Niharika's life ignited a fury he hadn't known he was capable of.

He reached for his phone, his grip firm as if the device was the only thing keeping him tethered to the moment. In one swift motion, he dialed a number, the name on the screen reading "Prashant."

The line barely rang twice before it was answered.

"Yes, sir," came the respectful, alert voice on the other end.

Shivaay's voice was low, deliberate, and brimming with authority. "Prashant, I need every single detail about a man named Kanishk Verma. I don't care what it takes or how long it takes. I want to know everything. Where he is, what he does, who he's connected to. Every. Single. Thing."

Prashant didn't dare to question him. "Consider it done, sir. I'll get my team on it immediately."

"Make it quick," Shivaay commanded, his voice sharp. "This isn't just anyone. He's linked to my wife, the queen of Jaipur. He dared to cross her path, and for that, I want him exposed."

"Yes, sir. I'll report back soon," Prashant said before the call disconnected.

Shivaay tossed the phone onto the desk with a thud, leaning back in his chair, his jaw tightening as he exhaled sharply. His hands clenched into fists, and his broad shoulders tensed with a mix of frustration and anger. He could feel his blood pounding in his temples, the weight of everything Niharika had revealed pressing on him like a storm cloud.

He ran a hand through his thick hair, tugging slightly as if the action could bring clarity. But clarity was the last thing he felt. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions-anger, jealousy, confusion, and an ache he refused to name.

She was his wife. Whether their marriage had begun as an arrangement or not didn't matter. The thought of anyone else, let alone a man like Kanishk Verma, being close to her was unbearable.

Shivaay's gaze fell on the book he had abandoned earlier in an attempt to distract himself. It lay open on the desk, but its words were meaningless now. His thoughts returned to Niharika, her defiance, her strength, and the way her voice cracked with pain when she had spoken about her past.

He felt a pang in his chest-a sensation unfamiliar and unwelcome. He shook his head, as if trying to dispel it. Emotions were weakness, and weakness had no place in his life. Yet, he couldn't stop the memories from playing in his mind: her tears, her trembling voice, and her anger when she defended herself.

He pushed himself out of the chair, pacing the room like a caged lion. His footsteps echoed against the marble floor as he tried to make sense of what he was feeling. His anger wasn't just directed at Kanishk; it was at himself. For misunderstanding her, for hurting her, for letting his pride and assumptions cloud his judgment.

But now, the fire in his chest had a focus. Kanishk Verma.

Shivaay's jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing as he muttered under his breath, "No one messes with Niharika. No one."

He paused, staring out of the large window that overlooked the vast Ranawat estate. The lights of the city twinkled in the distance, but his focus was inward. If Kanishk thought he could harm her and walk away unscathed, he was gravely mistaken.

With a renewed sense of determination, Shivaay turned back to his desk, his mind already formulating plans. He wasn't just going to get information-he was going to ensure that Kanishk Verma paid for every moment of pain he had caused her. Because whether Shivaay admitted it to himself or not, Niharika wasn't just his wife in name. She was his, and no one would dare take what belonged to him.

..............

"Hey everyone! I’m so sorry for the delay in posting the new chapter. I’ve been super busy at night and couldn’t find enough time to properly edit it. I promise to make it worth the wait and will try to get it up as soon as possible. Thank you for your patience and understanding—it means a lot!"