The sibling brigade had been gathered for their usual evening chatter, and even Shlok had been actively taking part in the conversation, laughing along with everybody as the warmth of the trip finally seemed to crack his rigid exterior. Rajveer had stepped away to the balcony area to take an urgent corporate work call, his eyes casually scanning the villa's courtyard.
Suddenly, he saw Devika entering the area. He instantly wanted to hang up and meet her, but his boots froze to the marble floor the second he caught her expression. She wasn't just upset—she was fuming, vibrating with a dangerous, raw fury he hadn't seen before. Sugandha was trailing closely behind her, her face pale, desperately trying to catch her arm to stop and calm her down.
Devika marched right past the threshold, ignoring the scenery, her eyes locked onto a single target. Before anyone's brain could process her entrance, she slammed a brutal, tight slap across Shlok's face, the sheer momentum knocking him clean off his feet and onto the ground.
Rajveer dropped his phone, almost running toward them as the hall erupted into chaos. Shlok groaned, fumbling against the floorboards as he tried to stand up. But Devika didn't give him the chance. With a fluid, terrifying muscle memory, she ripped her pistol out from her pocket and, without a single millisecond of hesitation, fired.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
The deafening reports echoed violently off the high stone ceilings. None of the bullets landed on Shlok. They ripped into the wooden floorboards, dangerously close to his ear, sending splinters of varnish flying against his cheek.
Rajveer lunged forward, his fingers violently wrestling the firearm out of Devika's iron grip, his deep voice booming with a desperate, disciplinary panic. "Ye kya kar rahi hain aap?!"
"Puchhiye apni behan se jaake! Kya kiya hai is haraamkhor ne!!" Devika shouted back, her chest heaving violently, her angry, slit-like eyes still drilling holes into Shlok's trembling frame.
Rajveer's gaze snapped over his shoulder to Sugandha. His younger sister was crying freely now, her shoulders shaking hysterically as she buried her face against Vikram's chest for protection. Jai and Harsh had already stepped in front of Avani, Tara and Nandini, shielding.
"Kya hua hai, Sugandha? Kya kiya hai isne?" Rajveer demanded, his deep voice carrying a terrifying, quiet rumble. The way Sugandha lifted her eyes to look at him—desperately, helplessly, filled with a raw trauma—made his blood boil instantly.
"Humare pyaare daamad sahab ko Sugandha ka dress pasand nahi aaya," Devika started, her voice dropping into a dangerously low, chilling register. She didn't stay back. She crouched right beside the fumbling Shlok, her hand reaching down to her leather boots to pull out her sharp pocket knife.
CLICK.
The silver blade flashed under the chandelier. "Isliye inhone uske kapde badal diye! Zabardasti!" she hissed, her eyes black with rage as the edge of the pocket knife hovered mere millimeters away from the pulse point on Shlok's neck. Shlok stared up at her, the dark, dominant arrogance completely drained from his face, replaced by absolute, blinding fear. He was staring at a blood-thirsty executioner.
While the monstrous weight of the words slowly sank into the brothers' minds—the realization of what 'zabardasti' meant—the atmosphere in the villa shifted from a family vacation to a hunting ground.
Devika violently grabbed Shlok by his heavy collar, yanking his weight upward until he was forced to stand on his weak knees. She took a deliberate step back, her knife still glinting, her cold, unyielding stance almost acting as a silent signal to the line of Rathore brothers to go attack and finish him off.
And they did exactly as ordered.
Vikram gently pushed sobbing Sugandha into Nandini's arms, his face turning into a mask of pure, unadulterated violence as he lunged forward first. Jai and Harsh didn't wait for a royal decree; they moved like a pack of wolves, their fists launching into Shlok before he could even lift a hand to defend his transgression. Rajveer tossed Devika's gun onto a nearby couch, his own strict boundaries shattering entirely as he stepped into the fray, his heavy boots ready to teach the scoundrel the true cost of touching a daughter of Jodhpur.
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They had almost beaten him half to death when Devika's voice echoed sharply through the blood-spattered hall. "Bas! Maarna nahi hai!"
Vikram and Jai, completely blinded by rage, were still launching heavy, brutal blows on him. They had to be physically yanked back by the collars of their shirts by Rajveer, whose grip was unyielding.
"Ghar jaana hai, ya yahin marna hai?" Rajveer said in a low, terrifyingly calm, angry voice to Shlok. Shlok, trembling, bloodied, and broken, didn't wait for a second invitation. He scrambled off the marble floor and practically ran toward the villa's exit. The brothers turned to look at Rajveer in deep confusion, ready to chase him down, but Rajveer stopped them with a firm gesture of his hand. He then looked at the frozen palace staff, signalling the servants to clean up the area immediately.
Then, his strict gaze fell upon Sugandha. She was now done crying her heart out, her shoulders merely shivering. Rajveer's hardened expression instantly melted into pure, protective brotherly pain. Devika, on the other hand, was looking at her sister-in-law with far more furious anger than sadness.
She irritably threw her tactical pocket knife onto the floor with a force to actually break it, grabbed a glass of water from a nearby tray, and marched over to pass it to her.
"Rona-dhona ho gaya ho to baat kar len?" she said to Sugandha in a cold, clinical, and emotionless voice.
"Bhabhi—" Harsh tried to step in, wanting to protect his traumatized sister, but he was instantly shut down by a strict, absolute hand gesture from Devika. Her sharp eyes were relentlessly scanning Sugandha from head to toe.
"Choti bacchi ho tum? Usne pehnaya aur tumne pehen liya?!" Devika shouted at Sugandha, her voice echoing off the stone walls. Sugandha's head dropped even lower, her gaze burning into the floor. Devika fiercely gestured down toward Sugandha's own waist, where a compact firearm was neatly holstered. "Ye kya show-off ke liye diya hai humne?!"
Jai and Avani stepped forward, trying to interfere and soften the blow, but this time Rajveer's voice cut through the room, backing his wife entirely. "Bilkul sahi bol rahi hai, Devika. Sugandha, Rajput ka khoon hai tum me. Tumhe ye yaad dilane ki zaroorat bhi nahi honi chahiye."
"Bhaiya..." Sugandha whispered, her teary eyes lifting to look at him with a shaky, vulnerable voice. Rajveer didn't hesitate. He immediately stepped into her space and pulled her into a tight, crushing hug.
"Hum darr gaye the! Bhabhi! Vo... vo pati banne wala hai humara!!" she cried out, clinging to Rajveer's white linen shirt as if it were her only anchor.
"To?!" Devika fired back at once.
As she spoke, her sharp eyes finally cracked, revealing an expression that was far more hurt and betrayed than angry. It pained her to see the girl she had trained for so many years lose her strength.
"Pati banne waala tha to kya, Sugandha? Tumhari kal shaadi bhi hogi, aur agar tumhara pati bhi tumhare saath badtameezi karega, to humne tumhe itni training to di hai ki us saale ki ek-ek haddi tod do tum! Dummy ke saath khelne ke liye nahi sikhaya sab kuch!"
"Sorry, Bhabhi," Sugandha whispered, her voice cracking as a fresh wave of quiet tears spilled over her lashes.
Devika didn't answer. She couldn't. Her jaw remained clamped tight, a raw, furious muscle ticking violently in her cheek. Tearing her gaze away from the broken girl, she mimicked under her breath, a sharp, irritated, "Sorry bhabhi?!" cutting through the room like a blade.
Before anyone could utter another word, she turned sharply on her heel. The heavy fabric of her dress rustled violently against the stone threshold as she marched out of the villa's grand hall, vanishing completely into the cool, howling Greek night.
The silence left in her wake was suffocatingly heavy.
Rajveer let out a slow, ragged breath, his chest heaving beneath his rumpled white shirt. The adrenaline from the brawl was still roaring in his veins, but he forced his frame to relax. He loosened his grip around Sugandha just enough to cup her face in his hands, his thumbs gently wiping the fresh tears from her cheeks.
"Bhaisa..." Vikram stepped forward, his knuckles split and bleeding from the relentless punches he had landed on Shlok. His voice carried a quiet, raw guilt as he subtly gestured toward the open terrace doors, silently pleading with his older brother to go after her.
Rajveer gave a weak, grim nod. He looked around the room, taking in the shocked, pale faces of his younger siblings. When he spoke, his voice carried the absolute, unyielding authority. "Jai, Avani aur Tara ke saath kitchen jao. Vikram ke haathon ke liye barf dhundo. Harsh, Nandini, Sugandha ko sambhalo. Shlok ke saath humara rishta khatam. Kal hum personally handle karenge saare paperworks."
"Ji, Bhaiya," Harsh nodded solemnly, his protective instincts kicking in as he gently guided a shivering Sugandha onto a nearby plush couch, while Nandini wrapped a thick, warm shawl around her fragile shoulders.
Rajveer's eyes took one final look at his family, his strict, towering profile cutting a sharp, lethal silhouette under the grand crystal chandeliers. He didn't care about the political fallout, and he didn't care about the corporate mess this would inevitably cause with the extended royal branches back in Jodhpur. His entire universe had narrowed down to the woman who had just walked out into the dark.
He left the hall, his long, powerful strides carrying him through the arched glass doors and out onto the sprawling, cliffside terrace.
The Aegean wind was howling fiercely now, whipping the open waves of Devika's hair around her face. She was standing at the absolute edge of the stone railing, her fingers clutching the cold marble so tightly that her knuckles were stark white. Above her, the moon cast a brilliant, silvery glow across her pale, striking features.
Rajveer didn't say a single word. He stepped up directly behind her, his large, broad frame completely blocking the harsh, freezing sea wind, and smoothly wrapped his arms around her waist. He pulled her back, anchoring her spine firmly against his solid chest.
Devika didn't squirm this time. She didn't deploy a witty comeback, she didn't try to shrug him off, and she didn't hop away. Instead, her entire body seemed to deflate, her heavy head leaning back into the crook of his neck as a long, shaky sigh escaped her lips.
"Zyada bol diya?" she whispered. Her voice was entirely stripped of its usual bubbly, untamable energy, sounding incredibly small, fragile, and lost in the vastness of the roaring ocean below.
Rajveer's grip tightened around her waist, his thumbs tracing slow, comforting circles over her linen dress, grounding her against his warmth. He leaned down, his lips softly brushing against her ear.
"Nahi," he murmured, his deep, raspy voice rich with an intense, quiet sincerity that instantly sent a wave of absolute calm through her system. "Theek kiya. Use zaroorat thi ye batane ki, ki vo koi kamzoor, bechari ladki nahi hai. Use apne liye ladna hoga."
Devika bit her lower lip, her fingers reaching down to securely grip his forearms, feeling the steady, vein-lined strength of his hands.
"Humne... humne use sab sikhaya hai, Hukum sa," she confessed softly, turning around within his embrace to look up into his strict face. Her big, round eyes were wide, sad, and deeply hurt—but true to her fierce nature, she didn't let a single tear fall. "Sabkuch jo hume aata hai, humne un logon ko sikha diya. Taaki jo humare saath hua, vo un logon ke saath kabhi na ho."
Rajveer stared down at his wife. A sudden, cold dread gripped his chest as her heavy words hung between them. He wanted to pry, wanted to demand to know what dark shadow in her past she was talking about, but looking at her pale, exhausted face, he decided that now was not the time. He reached up, his fingers gently catching her chin, tilting her face up toward his.
"Fikr nahi kijiye. Vo log ab kabhi hichkichayenge nahi. Hume yakeen hai," Rajveer said softly, his dark eyes locking onto hers with an absolute, possessive finality that promised to shield her from whatever ghosts she was running from.
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