🌟HOPING QUEEN-CHAPTER-1

Third pov:

The cool December air swept through the quiet streets of Chennai, carrying the crispness of Margazhi morning. Life stirred in the elite neighborhood of Chennai, where grand mansions stood as symbols of wealth and power.

In front of a grand, imposing mansion, a young woman knelt by the elaborate gates, immersed in her task. Aaradhya, a petite beauty with dusky skin that glowed softly in the golden hue of dawn. Her waist-length hair, still damp from her morning routine, was loosely tied with a simple band, She wore a cotton saree, and Her face was free of makeup, save for a tiny bindi on her forehead, and the only adornments she carried were small, gleaming earrings and a few glass bangles that chimed softly as she moved.

Her slender fingers worked skillfully, creating an intricate kolam with white powder on the stone pavement. The design took shape effortlessly under her steady hand, each line and curve a testament to her practiced precision. A faint smile graced her lips as she worked, the act itself seeming to bring her peace.

As the first rays of sunlight crept over the horizon, casting a warm glow on the quiet street, Aaradhya paused, her eyes lifting to the sky.

She rose to her feet with effortless grace, brushing off the edge of her saree.

Aaradhya pov:

Ah, it's time for my morning pooja! After that, I have to hurry to the kitchen and get everything ready for the day. My feet automatically carried me toward the garden behind the mansion—it's the only place where I feel truly at peace in this entire house.

As I walked, I greeted Sundar anna, the kind gardener who always smiles back warmly. The moment I stepped into the garden, the cool morning air wrapped around me, and the sight of my favorite place—the small Murugan temple tucked into the corner—filled my heart with calm.

This shrine... it's like my little world. All my sadness, all my small joys—everything, only my Murugan hears them. Nobody else. As I stood in front of his serene idol, my lips curved into a smile, and it felt like He was smiling back at me.

The flowers and pooja items were already set neatly on the side, just how I liked it. I lit the lamp, offered the flowers, and folded my hands tightly in prayer. Looking at Him, my heart poured out, "Muruga, please be with me today too. Give me strength to face whatever comes and help me get through this house. Just stay with me, okay?"

There's something about talking to Him that makes my heart lighter, even on the toughest days. With a final look at His calm face, I felt a flicker of hope spark within me, as if He whispered, "I'm here for you."With a deep breath, I finished my pooja and gently placed the lamp back in its place

Back in the kitchen, my body already felt tired of yesterday's chores, but there was no time to stop. The breakfast prep was in full swing, and I quickly started chopping vegetables. My arms protested, but I pushed through.

As I carefully chopped the vegetables, my thoughts drifted back to a time when life was carefree and full of dreams. Back in my little village, under the warm care of Amma Seetha and Appa Mayavan, I believed my future would be bright. They raised me with so much love and patience,Amma always said, "Aadhya, never let anger or bitterness live in your heart. Even for your enemies, wish good things."

But life doesn't always go the way we plan. One accident changed everything. I was just 17 when I lost Amma and Appa. Their absence left an emptiness I still don't know how to fill. After finishing my B.Com degree, I had big dreams of doing a professional course like CS (Company Secretary). It felt like a step closer to becoming independent, just like a Chartered Accountant—but those dreams crumbled before I could even take the first step.

Instead, fate brought me here. Rajendhran Sir, a man of few words, took me in. He didn't say much when he brought me to this grand house, but his actions spoke for him. His gruff face and stoic nature made him seem distant, but I could sense his quiet sense of duty. He wanted me to care for his mother, Ganga Ammal, who's the only true comfort in this big, cold house. She's kind, soft-spoken, and treats me with a warmth that reminds me of Amma. Ganga patti. She's sweet and soft-spoken, the only warmth in this big, cold mansion.

But his wife, Yamuna Madam, is a different story. People whisper behind her back that she's Sir's second wife, and maybe that's why she always seems so angry and full of pride. She's sharp-tongued, arrogant, and finds faults in everything I do. Still, I try to stay calm. Amma and Appa taught me to be patient and respectful, no matter what.

I quickly arranged the plates on the dining table, setting out the steaming idlis and sambar, trying to focus on my tasks. The weight of Yamuna Madam's eyes felt heavy, but I kept my head down. I carried the dishes to the dining room, where Rajendhran Sir was already seated at the head of the table. He sat quietly, reading his newspaper, his face expressionless as always. I set the plates down in front of him with a soft clink. He acknowledged me with a small nod before turning his attention back to the paper.

The dining room was large, with high ceilings and elegant furniture, but it always felt empty and cold. Maybe it was just me.

I helped Ganga Patti on walk to her usual spot, her kind eyes following my every move. "Aaradhya ma," she said warmly, her voice always making me feel special. I smiled as I placed food on her plate and helped her eat, cherishing her gentle questions about my day. Moments with Patti felt like treasures,like those with my own grandmother, and were rare comforts in this house.

With her, even Yamuna Madam's sharp words softened, and I marveled at Patti's quiet authority. In my two years here, she had always been my calm amidst the chaos. After she and Rajendhran Sir finished eating, I quietly cleared the table.

Just as I thought I could catch my breath, Yamuna Madam strode into the dining room, her commanding presence suffocating the space. Behind her was her son Ajay. My heart sank. His sharp gaze swept over me, making my skin prickle. I instinctively adjusted my saree, pulling the pallu tighter around my waist.

"Good morning, Aaradhya,"  his voice dripping with something that made my skin crawl. "You've been working so hard. Don't you ever get tired?" His words sounded innocent, but the smirk on his face told a different story.

I lowered my gaze quickly, focusing on the task at hand. "It's my duty, Sir," I replied quietly, keeping my voice as steady as I could.

Yamuna Madam, oblivious or perhaps deliberately ignoring her son's behavior, walked over to the table, her jewelry clinking loudly."Aaradhya,"  her voice dripping with disdain, "Is this sambar? It's too salty! Can't you do anything right?"

With a swift, angry gesture, she flung the bowl to the floor.

"Can't you do anything properly?" she yelled, glaring at me like I had committed the gravest sin. "Clean this up right now!"

"Yes, Madam," I whispered, grabbing a cloth and dropping to my knees to wipe the mess.Ajay's smirk widened as he watched me. "Poor Aaradhya," he said lazily. "Always on your knees, working so hard. Should I... join you?" His tone was low, teasing, with a darkness that made my skin crawl.

"No, Sir," I replied quickly, my voice barely steady as I kept my head down.

He leaned forward slightly. "You're so shy. It's cute. If you ever need... a little extra help, don't hesitate to ask." His laugh was soft, mocking, and heavy with meaning.

I clenched the cloth tighter, willing my tears to stay hidden. My chest ached, but I couldn't stop.Ajay didn't stop there. "You know, Aaradhya," his voice dipping lower, "it's a shame you hide behind that saree. You'd look much better without it... don't you think?" His eyes lingered on me, and I felt my breath hitch. My fingers froze on the cloth for a moment before I forced myself to keep wiping the floor, pretending not to hear.

"Ajay, enough," Yamuna Madam finally said, though her tone was more dismissive than scolding. She didn't care about my discomfort, only about maintaining appearances.

Ajay leaned back in his chair, smirking. "Relax, Mom. I'm just having a little fun."

I swallowed hard, blinking back tears as I finished cleaning the spill. My hands ached from scrubbing, but my heart hurt more. But I dont have any choice but to endure this.

after some hours,

adjusted the cushion behind Ganga Patti as she sat in her usual spot, her eyes soft and kind as she watched me. I smiled at her, the warmth of her presence calming the ache in my heart from the morning's tension. "Are you comfortable, Patti?" I asked, my voice soft and caring.

"Yes, Aaradhya," she replied, her fingers patting my hand. "You're always so kind."

Before I could say anything else, the front door creaked open, and the sound of footsteps echoed through the hall. Rajendhran Sir was home. I stood up, ready to slip away before he noticed me, but Ganga Patti's voice stopped me.

"Aaradhya, don't go. Stay here a moment longer," she said, her tone firm but gentle.

I looked at her, a bit startled, but nodded. Ganga Patti had an authority that even Sir seemed to respect. I quietly stood by her side as Rajendhran Sir walked into the room, his face set in that usual unreadable expression.

"Amma," Rajendhran's voice was serious but carried a gentle edge, "I need you to call Rudhran back home. This project in Chennai... it's critical, and we can't afford any more delays. You know how vital his involvement is. The Eswar Group of Companies is soon celebrating its 50th anniversary. The annual function isn't just about milestones; it's about showing the world what we're capable of. We need to ace this project before that to make a statement. The other companies are already watching us, waiting for results because of him. I need him here."

"Rudhran..." she whispered, "You know what he's been through, Rajendhran. The pain he carries... it isn't just distance; it's more. He's been through so much, and I worry for him."

The way she spoke, so sure and resolute, made me pause. Rudhran. I'd heard that name before, usually when Ganga Patti was talking about "foreign" things. She never said much, but the way her eyes would shine when she did made me wonder. And then there was the other brother, the one who came once a year from Coimbatore. He wasn't mentioned as much, but it was clear Ganga Patti's heart was with Mr. Rudhran.

Rajendhran Sir's face softened, and he leaned forward. "I know, Amma. But it's for the company, for all of us. We need him, especially now. And I believe, deep down, he'll come when he knows we need him. It's time."

Who was this man who had such a powerful hold over everyone's attention, even from so far away?

After a moment, Ganga Patti's expression shifted from concern to resolve. "For your sake, Raja, I will call him. It's time for him to come home."

After that conversation, I made Patti to lay down on her bed. Walking back to the maid quarters, I passed by groups of maids chatting and watching their kids play. My legs were sore from the long day, but when Kannan, Radha's little boy, toddled up to me with a smile, my exhaustion eased for a moment. I scooped him up, tickling him until he giggled, and asked, "Did you eat, little one?"he nods and Radha looking at me questioningly.

"I'm fine," I reassured Radha when she asked, though we both knew the weight of our days. As I set Kannan down, my thoughts drifted back to the conversation I'd overheard in the dining room. The name Rudhran echoed in my mind, stirring something unfamiliar but warm. Ganga Patti spoke of him with such hope, and Rajendhran Sir had sounded desperate. Who was he?

I watched little Meena balance herself on the bench, my heart aching with both love and weariness. The children's innocence reminded me of simpler times, but the flutter in my chest told me that something was changing.

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