Maya
"You think you can ignore me? Challenge accepted, Mr. Mehrotra," I vowed inwardly, my eyes narrowing as I watched Utsav walk away without even sparing me a second glance.
Straightening my dress with a determined tug, I tossed my hair back with a flourish and forced a dazzling smile onto my face before turning toward Aditi and Ishanvi.
But the moment my gaze swept across the hall, my body stiffened. My jaw clenched tightly as I caught sight of Rudra swaggering into the mehendi function as if he owned the place.
God, I hated him.
Maybe Aditya had invited him — they were friends, after all — and I couldn’t exactly storm up and throw him out. Sighing heavily, I drew in a calming breath, pushing down the sudden surge of anger bubbling inside me.
Without wasting another second, I walked straight to where Aditi and Ishanvi were seated.
"So?" Ishanvi leaned in conspiratorially the moment she saw me, her voice low and eager. "How was the interaction? Did he at least acknowledge you?"
Rolling my eyes in sheer frustration, I muttered under my breath, "Yeah, we talked a lot. He even proposed to me for marriage."
Ishanvi barked out a laugh. "Yeah, sure! Looking at your face right now? Usne ghaas bhi nahi daali!" (He didn’t even notice you!)
I let out a dramatic sigh and slumped into the seat beside her. "He just said 'Nice to meet you' and then walked away. That's it. Btw, I honestly thought he’d be rude — cold even — but no. He’s a gentleman.
He knows how to act around women. Maybe I was just projecting too much… reading too many dark romance novels, imagining villains lurking in real life."
I paused, chewing on my lower lip before continuing, my tone thoughtful. "He's not rude. He's just… reserved. Closed off. But polite."
Ishanvi raised an eyebrow at me, her smirk practically taunting. "Told you, baby girl. You're overthinking. I mean, seriously — we’re not about to meet a real-life mafia boss.
Utsav isn't some villain straight out of your fantasy novels. He's just a normal, emotionally unavailable guy like half the population."
I sighed again, fiddling with the edge of my dupatta. "Yeah, maybe you're right. But still..." I glanced over my shoulder, almost instinctively searching for a glimpse of that unreadable man.
"There's something about him, Ishanvi. Something that doesn’t match what he shows the world. Like... he has layers. Secrets. Things he hides."
Ishanvi laughed out loud. "And here we go — the dark romance delusions again! You really think you’re about to marry a mafia don in real life?"
Smirking, I tossed my hair. "Maybe. And if I do, don't be jealous when my husband shows up in a black suit with a gun hidden inside."
Ishanvi rolled her eyes playfully. "Fine, fine. Just make sure he brings a hot, broody best friend for me too, okay? But let’s be real — mafia marriages only happen in books, Maya.
In reality, we're lucky if a guy even remembers our coffee order."
We both sighed at the brutal truth of it — and for a moment, laughed quietly at our own hopeless daydreams.
Still, deep down, something inside me whispered that my story wouldn’t be normal.
Not this time.
Just as we were dissolving into our little fantasy world, a familiar voice broke through our conversation.
"Guys, I'm also here... Don't forget me," Aditi whined, her tone a mix of exhaustion and mock anger.
We turned toward her with amused smiles. She was sitting on the couch, her hands held carefully outstretched as the beautician meticulously worked on applying intricate mehendi designs to her palms.
Her lower lip jutted out in an exaggerated pout. "Let me join in your conversation too... I'm getting bored!" she added, giving us a puppy-eyed look.
Ishanvi smirked. "Should we call Aadi jiju to dance for you, so you won't feel bored?" she teased mercilessly.
I grinned wickedly, jumping right in. "Or better yet, we could just call him here to sit next to you... and then, with proximity... Ahem ahem,"* I added with a dramatic wink.
Aditi's cheeks turned a deep crimson almost instantly as she shook her head, trying — and failing — to hide her flustered reaction.
"You girls can't even be serious for one minute," she said in a half-scolding, half-amused tone, though the shy smile tugging at her lips betrayed her.
"Can you blame us?" I said, laughing. "Our sweet, shy Aditi is getting married, and you expect us not to tease her? That would practically be a crime!"
Ishanvi leaned in conspiratorially, her voice mock-serious. "Besides, Aadi jiju is also bored at this dull function. Should we instruct him to take care of you like you're butter melting under his gaze?" she added with a mischievous wink.
That was it.
We all burst out laughing — the room filled with the sound of easy, teasing affection — as Aditi buried her face in her dupatta, mumbling curses at us while we continued to tease her without mercy.
"Alright, fine. Maya, can you bring some water for me? I'm feeling thirsty," Aditi asked, her voice soft and a little tired.
My playful expression calmed instantly. I parted my lips into a warm smile and replied, "Of course, darling. That's what best friends are for."
Without waiting another second, I headed toward the refreshment counter, set near the corner of the garden area, where colorful fairy lights were draped around canopies and waiters bustled to and fro, balancing trays of drinks and snacks. Most of them looked overwhelmed with the crowd.
I weaved through the chaos toward the table stacked with glasses and jugs of water. Just as I reached out to grab a glass, I felt it — a sudden, unyielding grip around my wrist.
My entire body stiffened.
The touch was rough, unmistakably manly, and sent a ripple of tension through every nerve in me.
I turned, heart thudding—and there he was.
Rudra.
My ex.
The very last person I ever wanted to see, let alone be touched by.
My jaw clenched, irritation flashing like a spark across my face. Narrowing my eyes at him, I spoke in a calm, deceptively sweet tone, "Leave me, Rudra. It's a wedding function — I don't want any drama here."
Outwardly, I was composed.
Inside?
Every fiber of my being screamed to smash his face into the ground.
But Rudra, in true disgusting form, only smirked — that twisted, arrogant smirk I hated.
"Not yet, Maya baby," he sneered, tightening his hold just slightly. "You forget me too easily... but I didn't."
Before I could yank myself free, he dragged me with surprising force toward a nearby, dimly lit corridor adjoining the main hall — a spot mostly abandoned because everyone was busy near the dance floor.
Once out of direct sight, Rudra turned sharply to face me, his face a mask of simmering rage.
"So?" he hissed. "At the club, you said you’d break my dick and leave me sterile forever?*" His voice was low, lethal, threaded with venomous calm.
I noticed his veins bulging angrily along his forearms and neck, the strain making his light green sherwani stretch taut across his muscles. His eyes—wild, bloodshot—burned into mine.
And then, he spat words so vile they made my blood run cold.
"Now how about I fuck your ass so hard you won’t even sit or walk for a month?*"
He sneered, his breath hot with alcohol and rage.
My heart didn't stutter in fear.
It roared in pure, undiluted fury.
Maya Shekhawat? Afraid of this pathetic excuse of a man?
Never.
I yanked my wrist free with a violent jerk, stepping back as I balled my hands into tight fists at my sides.
My eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, now burned with unrelenting fire.
My lips trembled — not from fear, but from the rage barely contained within me.
"Dare to lay even a finger on me," I snarled, my voice low, shaking slightly with the force of my fury, "and I’ll show you exactly where you belong, Rudra Singhaniya."
The air between us crackled with tension, heavy and dangerous, as I prepared myself for whatever came.
His eyes darkened dangerously as he took an intimidating step toward me—slow, deliberate, each move brimming with silent menace.
"You have a sharp tongue, Maya... and now you want to show me my place?" he sneered, throwing his head back with a bitter laugh that echoed through the empty corridor, scraping against my nerves.
I clenched my fists tighter, nails digging into my palms, fighting the primal urge to smash that laugh right out of his mouth.
He lowered his gaze back to me, a twisted smirk curling on his lips.
"But you know, baby," he drawled, venom dripping from every syllable, "it’ll be even more fun when that pretty little mouth of yours is too busy sucking my dick—your tongue rolling all over it."
Disgust twisted in my gut.
A wave of revulsion hit me so hard that for a moment I almost choked on it.
I once dated this... this creature?
God, he wasn’t even worthy of being called a man.
A spineless, disgusting vulture.
Before another filthy word could escape his mouth, I moved.
Swift, without hesitation.
My hand shot up and cracked hard across his right cheek with a loud, satisfying smack.
He staggered slightly from the force, his hand flying up instinctively to cup his stinging cheek.
His eyes, now bloodshot with rage, glared at me—red, murderous, trembling with fury.
I knew I'd crossed a line.
I knew he'd never forgive the humiliation.
But frankly? I didn’t give a damn.
Just as he shifted his weight forward, ready to retaliate, a soft knock on the door shattered the moment.
We both froze.
Standing at the doorframe, composed as ever, was Utsav Mehrotra.
His broad shoulders relaxed, one hand resting casually in his pocket, his face an unreadable mask of calm authority.
Those dark, sharp eyes flickered toward me, then to Rudra, assessing the scene in one clean sweep.
"Miss Shekhawat," he said, his voice smooth and steady, "I believe Aditi needs you. You should be with her."
There was no judgment in his tone. No curiosity. No hint of interference.
Just a simple, undeniable command, wrapped in velvet.
For a second, I stood there, thrown completely off balance.
Was he genuinely helping me?
Or did Aditi actually need me?
Or... was he just providing an escape without making it obvious?
God, this man was an enigma.
A puzzle wrapped in glass and smoke.
But in that moment, a flicker of gratitude warmed my chest.
A small, fleeting respect lit in my eyes—only to be immediately doused by the cold rage simmering within me.
Without a word, I turned my head slowly toward Rudra and shot him a deathly glare sharp enough to slice through bone.
And with that, I stepped out of the room, leaving both men behind—one fuming, the other impassive, as though he hadn't witnessed a thing.
As I stepped out into the corridor, the air hit me like a cold slap.
For a moment, I just stood there, breathing hard.
My heart thundered against my ribcage, a violent rhythm pounding in my ears, louder than the buzz of the nearby function.
I could still feel the sting of Rudra’s presence lingering on my skin, like a bad taste that refused to leave.
Coward, I spat inwardly.
Pathetic coward.
I drew in a shaky breath and forced my hands to unclench. My palms were damp from the tight fists I'd held for too long, crescent-shaped marks of my nails digging into my skin.
I tilted my head back, shutting my eyes briefly.
Get it together, Maya.
The mehendi function music floated back into my consciousness—the drum beats, the jingling laughter, the celebration.
The normalcy of it felt surreal against the storm raging inside me.
And then... my mind involuntarily drifted to him.
Utsav.
Standing there like a silent fortress, speaking with such calm precision, offering me an escape without making me feel like a victim.
He hadn’t even looked surprised.
No drama.
No questions.
Just a subtle rescue, wrapped so smoothly in casual authority that it almost didn’t feel like a rescue at all.
I pressed my lips together, feeling a confusing flicker in my chest—a tangle of gratitude... and something else I refused to name.
No, Maya.
Don't go there.
Shaking my head, I composed myself and began to walk back toward the function hall, the click of my heels striking against the marble floor—louder, sharper, determined.
If Rudra thought he could shake me, he didn’t know a damn thing about who Maya Shekhawat truly was.
And as for Utsav Mehrotra?
He was still a mystery.
A beautiful, dangerous mystery that part of me wanted to solve... and part of me knew, deep down, might just burn me alive.
With that thought, I lifted my chin and walked back toward Aditi and Ishanvi, the folds of my lehenga swaying confidently with every step. As I neared the sitting area, my gaze caught a fleeting yet tender scene — Aditya, kneeling down beside Aditi, gently helping her drink water as her hands were adorned with fresh mehendi, unable to move. His actions were soft, attentive, full of care.
A small smile tugged at my lips seeing them together, but before I could approach, Aditya stood up with a quick whisper in Aditi’s ear, making her cheeks flush pink, and walked away toward the groomsmen gathered at the far end.
Shaking my head with fond amusement, I finally reached Aditi and Ishanvi, only to be greeted by an impatient pout from the bride herself.
"C'mon, Maya! I asked you for water fifteen minutes ago, and here you show up now?" Aditi complained, her voice laced with mock frustration.
"Yes, Maya! Is everything alright? What took you so long?" Ishanvi added, her brows knitting together in concern.
I let out a dramatic sigh, tossing my hair back in typical flair. "Nothing to worry about. Just a quick, delightful chat with our beloved Rudra Singhania," I said, my lips curling into a smirk at the memory of the slap that still tingled on my palm.
"What? Rudra? He was here? And he dared to talk to you?" Ishanvi burst out, her face mirroring my earlier irritation.
"Well," I shrugged nonchalantly, "Aadi invited him. They’re friends, unfortunately. Can't really stop him. But don’t look so worried, darling. I handled it." I winked at her before sitting beside Aditi.
Aditi leaned closer, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Handled it? Maya, seriously — what really happened between you two?"
Another smirk pulled at my lips, a glint of mischief dancing in my eyes. "Ah, nothing major. Just a small... lesson. A reminder to him about where he truly belongs." I said it lightly, as if teaching obnoxious exes their place was just another item on my to-do list.
"But don’t worry," I added sweetly, linking arms with both of them, "the juicy details are reserved for tonight — bedroom gossip session only. For now, let’s enjoy the function. We are not letting that idiot spoil our vibe."
Both Ishanvi and Aditi burst out laughing, shaking their heads because they knew me too well.
If I said I handled it, then Rudra Singhania probably wouldn’t be showing his face for the rest of the evening.
With that, the three of us dived back into the colorful madness of the mehendi function, leaving every bitter shadow behind — just like queens are meant to.
As we were busy laughing and exchanging lighthearted banter, a sudden darkness swallowed the entire mehendi ceremony hall. The lights had gone out completely, plunging everything into a sea of black.
Around me, I could hear the sounds of guests fidgeting in confusion, hushed whispers quickly turning into curious gossip.
"What's happening?" someone muttered.
Aditya, ever the composed groom-to-be, immediately signaled to the guards. "Check the switchboard — quickly," he ordered in a sharp, commanding voice.
And Utsav?
I didn't hear a word from him.
Maybe he was standing somewhere away from the crowd. Or maybe — as always — he simply didn’t care enough to react. The calm around him was almost unsettling.
Just as the uneasiness started to creep into the air, the lights blazed back to life — not quietly, but with a flourish.
A loud, playful blast of music filled the room, drawing everyone's attention toward the entrance.
A man stepped into the spotlight.
Dressed sharply in a fitted black suit, a glinting Rolex watch on his wrist, he exuded effortless charm. His tall, muscular frame moved with ease, and his sharp jawline carried the hint of a stubble, accentuating his naturally commanding presence. Long, thick lashes framed eyes that danced with mischief as he broke into an energetic performance on the iconic Bollywood song "Badtameez Dil."
His dance moves were effective, precise, and full of a rogue’s confidence — the kind of entrance that could steal the show at any wedding.
He grinned toward Aditya and Utsav, signaling that he was clearly one of their own — perhaps a friend or close relative.
I smirked.
A point to the groom’s side for pulling off such a banger of an entry.
But it was temporary. The bride’s side was still here, after all.
In his excitement, however, he missed one crucial detail — his foot accidentally snagged the pallu of Ishanvi’s delicate saree, tearing it slightly.
Ishanvi gasped, her face flushing with a mix of shock and irritation, while I barely suppressed a laugh.
Ah, the classic wedding chaos — would it even be a real Indian wedding without a few wardrobe malfunctions?
The song finally ended with a thunderous round of claps, and the man, laughing, jogged over to Aditya, pulling him into a tight hug.
"Can't expect anything less from you, Aarav!" Aditya said, laughing as he clapped him on the back.
So his name was Aarav.
Interesting.
I watched, amused, as Aarav flashed a wide grin. "Of course, man! How could I not be here for my best friend's wedding? Just flew in from the States."
That explained the sleek suit.
Then, with an easy swagger, Aarav made his way toward Utsav, who stood near the side, utterly unbothered, one hand casually tucked into his pocket, the other occupied with his phone. It almost seemed like he hadn't even noticed the grand entry.
But as Aarav approached, Utsav finally looked up.
Aarav pulled him into a quick hug.
"So? How was my entry, buddy?" Aarav asked with a mischievous grin.
Utsav gave a crisp, brutally honest reply without missing a beat:
"Cringe."
Typical Utsav.
A puzzle.
A mystery.
But a mystery I intended to solve.
Bit by bit, layer by layer —
I would reveal every secret this man was hiding.
And no matter how high his walls were,
I was determined to make them crumble.
Because I wasn’t the kind of girl who backed down from a challenge.
Especially not one as fascinating as Utsav Mehrotra.
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How was Aarav's entry?
"Do let me know your thoughts about this chapter in the comments section. If you liked it, please don't forget to vote. Your single vote is enough to give me the courage to keep writing more.
And please, don't judge the characters solely based on the starting chapters. There's so much yet to unfold. Especially Utsav - I know his personality might seem negative at times, but trust me, he's about to go through a powerful journey of transformation.
Let the story breathe a little before forming opinions. Big twists are coming."
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*What did you think of Rudra and Maya's confrontation? I'd love to hear your theories!*
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