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AUTHOR'S POV-

The golden twilight cast a warm hue over the mansion as laughter echoed through its ornate halls. The day of the Shagun had passed, leaving behind sparkles of joy and a quiet flutter of emotions neither Ekakshi nor Rivaan could completely understand-or admit aloud.

The courtyard was now empty, draped with marigolds and fairy lights that twinkled as the sun dipped below the horizon. Everyone had gone inside to change for the evening rituals, but she lingered... her eyes unknowingly drawn to the place where he had last stood, teasing Aarav, laughing with Vihaan, being his usual, charming, unbothered self.

Ekakshi stood by the corridor pillars, her fingers clutching the edge of her dupatta. Her heart beat an unfamiliar rhythm. She should've gone inside... but her feet refused to move.

And then-

"Aise na mujhe tum dekho... seene se laga lunga..."

The voice hit her like the softest breeze and the loudest thunder. Her eyes darted to the side.

There he stood.

Rivaan.

The cream kurta he wore gleamed under the twilight, but it was the mischief in his eyes that unsettled her more. He walked slowly towards her, each step deliberate, each word sung with a teasing lilt.

"Tumko main chura lunga tumse... dil mein chhupa lunga..."

Ekakshi's breath caught in her throat. She hadn't realized she had been staring at him until he caught her gaze and smiled like he had known her thoughts all along.

Her cheeks flushed a vivid red. She turned to leave, stumbling slightly on the edge of her dupatta, only to hear him chuckle softly.

"Running away already? Main toh sirf gana gaa raha tha... ya tumko kuch aur feel ho raha hai, miss would-be?"

(I was just singing... Or you were feeling something, miss would-be)

She couldn't look at him. Her mind was screaming at her to maintain her calm, but her heart had already betrayed her. Without replying, she bolted, her footsteps echoing through the hall.

Behind her, Rivaan shook his head and smiled to himself. "She's still the same..." he whispered.

The corridor was silent now.

Only the echo of her anklets still danced in Rivaan's ears as Ekakshi turned the corner and vanished, her face flushed like a blooming rose, her dupatta fluttering in her nervous haste.

Rivaan remained rooted where he stood, a rare, soft smile playing on his lips.

He whispered under his breath, "Dil mein chupa lunga..."

Just then, a loud voice, familiar enough to jolt him out of his reverie, rang through the hallway like a firecracker:

"Tum yahan?!"

Startled, Rivaan turned. And there she was. Ananya.

The same old sass. The same wild energy in her stride. Her expression? A mix of disbelief and pure indignation.

"Ananya?" Rivaan blinked in surprise, taking a step back as if she might punch him. "Tum?!"

She narrowed her eyes, stepped closer, and poked her manicured finger on his chest dramatically.

"Haan main Ananya! Mera chhodo, tu bata-tum yahan kya kar rahe ho?! Himmat kaise hui yahan aane ki haan?"

His eyebrows arched, amused by her still-burning temper after all these years. He folded his arms, mimicking her voice with mock seriousness.

"Haan main yahan! Aur main yahan kya kar raha hoon, tumhe kya? Tum kya kar rahi ho yahan? Mera peecha karne ki aadat gayi nahi tumhari?"

"Wha-WHAT?! You-!" she gasped.

Just then, the calm was shattered further as Dhruv entered with a bunch of family members, including Aarav, Advait, Ronav, Abhaan, vihaan, and even Rivaan's dadi and nani with Dhruv and Ananya's family.

They were all walking in casually, joking among themselves-until they saw the two of them face-to-face, nearly about to combust.

Dhruv froze. "Wait... Why are you two fighting like siblings? Wh-"

"WE ARE NOT SIBLINGS!" Rivaan and Ananya shouted in perfect synchronization, glaring at each other before they both turned to the rest with disbelief.

The room fell into a stunned silence before laughter erupted.

"Arey waah!" Nani exclaimed, chuckling. "You two fight like you've known each other for decades!"

Ananya crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. "Because unfortunately, we have."

"High school. College. Same friends. Same fights, even same country. UK!" Rivaan added dryly, stealing a glare at her before looking back at everyone. "But thank God, she never tied rakhi to me. Phew."

"Excuse me?" Ananya barked. "As if Iam willing to do. You and your broken guitar strings and broken relationships."

"Better than your broken coffee mugs and broken patience."

"Arghh!"

Just then, Nani ji, sipping her tea from a distance, smirked and turned to the crowd.

"Well, since destiny clearly enjoys jokes... may I do the honors?" she said theatrically, raising her voice, "Everyone... Meet our new devar and bhabhi duo!"

There was a pause. And then-

"WHAAAAAAT?!"

Rivaan and Ananya turned in unison, stunned, eyes wide.

"Bhabhi?! WHO?" Rivaan asked, turning side to side.

"YOU!" Aarav grinned, clapping Rivaan's back. "Ananya is Dhruv bhaiya's fiancée."

"And you're Ekakshi's," Ronav added mischievously, wiggling his eyebrows.

The color drained from both Ananya and Rivaan's faces.

"No. No no no." Ananya said, stepping back. "This is a prank, right?"

"Please tell me you're kidding." Rivaan looked at Nani.

"I don't kid." Nani smiled serenely.

Advait added, "So technically, you both are going to be family now."

"DESTINY HAS ZERO CHILL!" Rivaan whispered dramatically.

"Family dinner's going to be a battlefield," Ronav joked.

"I CAN'T CALL HIM DEVAR!" Ananya howled, staring at the heavens. "No way. Not this arrogant human peacock."

"Peacock?!"

"You strut like one! All that brooding and hair flipping!"

"You used to follow me on Instagram, okay?!"

"I FOLLOWED FOR THE MEMES, NOT YOU!"

The whole family was doubled over laughing by now.

Meanwhile, Abhaan and Vansh stood to the side with popcorn bowls (where did they even get them from?!).

Vansh whispered to Abhaan, "Dilama toh full-on chal la hai, bhai."

"Shh!" Abhaan replied, eyes gleaming. "Mele supel helo tartoon the bhi attha."

(Better than my super hero cartoon)

"Devar-bhabhi turned Tom and Jerry," Aarav snickered.

Advait turned to Rivaan, smirking. "You sure you're ready for this family? We're a full-time circus."

Rivaan sighed dramatically, side-eyeing Ananya, who was busy fake-gagging behind Dhruv's back. "At least the ringmaster is cute," he muttered, clearly referring to Ekakshi.

Ronav laughed. "Careful. She might just hit you with her jhumka."

Just then, Ekakshi entered, holding a tray of sweets, slightly flushed from earlier, but calm now. She paused when she saw the awkward-but-funny scene, her eyes flicking between Ananya and Rivaan.

"What's happening here?" she asked.

Everyone pointed to the duo. "Devar-Bhabhi reunion!" they chorused.

Ekakshi raised a brow. "Oh dear. Should I be worried?"

Ananya turned to her, groaning. "You didn't tell me your fiancé is him!"

Ekakshi stifled a laugh. "I didn't know it mattered."

Rivaan shrugged with a cheeky grin. "Apparently it does."

"Fine. Sadly I am very happy for you." Ananya squeezed her in a hug dramatically.

And then she turned towards rivaan, grinning whispered only to hear him. "Finally you are getting what you wanted."

He smiled wide and winked at her.

Ananya pointed a dramatic finger at him again. "Let's just make one rule then."

Rivaan arched an eyebrow. "Oh? Do tell."

"Truce until the wedding. No fights, no roasting, no flashbacks."

He smirked. "Deal. But one condition."

"What now?"

"You call me devarji once. Just for laughs."

"IN YOUR DREAMS!"

And with that, the banter resumed, only this time lighter, warmer.

^✓^

Inside the living room, the chaos of the kids had taken over.

Abhaan and Vansh were on their fifth argument of the day.

"Buii lites my chotolate bettel than youl boling laddoosh!" Vansh declared dramatically, puffing up his tiny chest.

(Buii likes my chocolates better than your boring laddoos!)

"No, she doesn't! She said I am the best and even kissed me on the cheek!" Abhaan retorted in his baby voice, his hands on his hips.

"She kissed me too! Three times when I helped her with her jhumka!" Vansh countered.

Advaay a 11month old toddler is no less and contributed in 'who buii loves the most' debate and started blabbering in his cute voice.

Ronav walked in, holding a bowl of popcorn. "Bro, just film them next time and we'll have the perfect opening act for the Sangeet. Drama max."

Vihaan, lounging on the recliner, chuckled. "And our dear Romeo Rivaan is nowhere to be seen. I bet he's off serenading someone."

Ronav grinned, exchanging a knowing look with Vihaan. "Serenading... or remembering the good old days, hmm?"

"Main bas itna chahta hoon ki sab kuch pehle jaisa ho jaye. Hame wo Rivaan aur ekakshi wapas miljaye jo bina kisi dard ke muskurate the." Vihaan said, lots of emotions swirling in his heart and his eyes turned slightly moist to which he hide with the professional practice.

Ronav nodded in agreement.

DAY BEFORE SANGEET :

The morning was filled with the sounds of laughter, soft music, and the occasional sound of feet stumbling over choreography.

In the sunlit drawing room, the girls gathered to practice for the upcoming sangeet ceremony. Sarees and kurtis swirled with every twirl, giggles echoed through the room, and Ekakshi, in her soft peach plazo and hair tied in a messy bun, stood like the calm center of a cyclone, instructing the rest with grace.

She twirled, and the room seemed to pause—drawn into the quiet poetry of her motion. Her outfit, a soft blush Anarkali, flowed around her like the petals of a rose in mid-bloom. The fabric was diaphanous, catching the light with every spin, revealing glimmers of silver threadwork along the neckline and down the center—like a trail of moonlight stitched onto silk.

The sleeves billowed gently as she moved, whispering secrets into the air, while the sheer dupatta floated behind her, weightless, trailing her joy. Each fold of the fabric obeyed her rhythm, sweeping with grace, anchored only by the delicate shimmer of mirror-like embellishments that sparkled with every turn.

Her bare feet padded softly against the floor, the hem of her dress kissing the ground as if blessing it. And in that moment, she wasn’t just dancing—she was becoming the music, a vision in peach and grace, wrapped in something timeless and quietly powerful.

“Left… right… spin. No, Meera—not that much spin, or you’ll land on the cake table again!” she teased, biting back a smile.

Everyone laughed.

Across the room, through the high windows—behind a glass pane—he stood.

Rivaan.

He stood there, effortlessly undone—just enough to let the sunlight kiss his collarbone, his shirt unbuttoned at the top in quiet defiance of perfection. The crisp white fabric clung lightly to him, sleeves rolled up as if he'd stepped away from something half-finished—yet somehow, he looked exactly where he was meant to be.

Faded denim hugged his frame with easy grace, casual but intentional. One hand slipped into his pocket while the other lifted slightly, caught mid-motion, as though he’d paused—not for the mirror, but for her. His gaze wasn’t about vanity. It was softer than that, touched with reverence. He was looking at her reflection—his love—like she was the only thing in the frame that mattered.

The air seemed to still around him, like even the moment knew it was witnessing something real: a man not just dressed in simplicity, but wrapped in quiet admiration.

He didn’t say a word. Didn’t move. Just stood there, watching her.

His eyes weren’t on the choreography.

They were on her smile.

That same smile he remembered from years ago. The one that wrecked his rhythm then. The one that—despite time, pain, and silence—still made his heartbeat stumble.

His hand slipped into his pocket as he whispered under his breath:

> "Yeh ladki… Har muskurahat ke saath mere dil ka step bigaad deti hai…"

(This girl… with every smile, messes up the rhythm of my heart.)

At that moment, she turned.

And caught him.

Their eyes locked through the glass. For a second, she froze—her steps forgotten, lips parted in surprise. His gaze was deep, amused, unbothered.

And then, with infuriating ease—

He winked.

Her cheeks flushed instantly.

“Nope,” she muttered, already turning to flee.

But she didn’t make it far.

A hand caught her wrist before she could vanish behind the hallway. His hand.

He pulled her gently but firmly around the corner of the corridor. The world outside bustled with music and voices—but here, it was just them.

Just breath and heartbeat.

“Running away again?” he asked softly, cornering her gently against the wall, his blazer brushing her arm, his voice like silk.

“Don’t you have some files to romance?” she shot back, trying to sound bold, even as her heart thudded in her chest.

He smiled. Slowly. Lazily. His eyes traced her face with a gaze that made her entire body tense.

“Why would I need files when I have the entire story of my life... right in front of me?”

She swallowed hard. Her hands clutched the edges of her dupatta as he stepped closer.

He opened her hair with perfection, letting them fall free.

“Rivaan…” she warned, breathlessly.

“Hmm?” he whispered, his tone teasing—dangerously close to tempting.

And then… his hand slid lightly over her waist.

She gasped softly, her hands trembling as his fingers rested against the fabric of her dress. He pulled her towards him, until there wasn’t a whisper of space between them.

Her eyes searched his face. His gaze, however, was fixed only on her lips… her eyes… the erratic rise and fall of her breath.

“I should go,” she whispered.

“You should,” he agreed… and didn’t move.

Her heart pounded.

“You said no more teasing,” she added.

“I lied,” he whispered back.

She glared. He chuckled.

“Ekakshi…” he murmured, her name falling like a prayer from his lips.

Then—without warning, without rush—he leaned forward and placed a soft, lingering kiss on her forehead.

The world paused.

She closed her eyes, a shiver running down her spine.

“Why do you affect me like this…” she whispered under her breath, almost to herself.

He stepped back, slowly letting go of her waist.

"May be you love me," he said, winked, matter-of-factly, and walked away with a half-smile tugging at his lips.

She stayed there for a moment, completely still, her hand pressed against the wall where he’d just leaned.

Her fingers brushed the edge of her lips instinctively, but then something made her turn.

Just as he was about to disappear around the bend of the corridor—his hand reached up to adjust his sleeve.

That’s when she saw it.

A mole.

Small. Barely visible. On the inside of his wrist.

Her heart stilled.

She knew that mole.

From long ago. From another time. A time she had carefully buried deep.

Her eyes widened, emotions crashing into each other like waves in a storm. Doubt. Wonder. Realization.

“That mole… it’s the same…” she whispered, more to herself than anyone.

But the thought didn’t leave her.

Instead, it rooted itself like a seed in her chest, ready to grow.

And in that single, fleeting second—between the beat of her heart and the blink of her eyes—Ekakshi realized...

❣️｡⁠◕⁠‿⁠◕⁠｡❣️

I hope you like the storyline.

I know it looks boring but the real twist will come up soon.

You all are going to witness office romance soon 😉.

Please Like if you like the chapter.

Drop atleast one Comment so that I keep motivated to write further.

Do you like the romance?

What about the bond between rivaan and ananya ? Do you like it?

What is the mole mystery?

Stay tuned for the mole mystery to open...

Till then

Byeeeeeee ☺️