✨3. Grah Pravesh

The wedding had ended, and the newlywed couple was declared husband and wife. Shivaay stood stoically at the mandap, exuding his signature cold and intimidating aura. Niharika sat beside him, her posture rigid, her eyes betraying the turmoil within.

As the families prepared for the departure, the Verma family’s attitude toward the occasion became glaringly evident.

Shalini Verma, Niharika’s mother, was beaming—not with pride, but with a sense of triumph and relief. For her, this wedding wasn’t about her daughter’s happiness; it was a victory, a way to rid herself of the "burden" she believed Niharika had always been. Her carefully curated smile radiated satisfaction as she walked up to her daughter.

“Niharika,” she said in a clipped tone, “remember, this is your chance to make something of your life. Don’t ruin it.” Her voice was devoid of maternal warmth, laced instead with veiled warnings.

Niharika looked at her mother, her heart sinking. There was no affection in her words, no parting advice filled with love or concern. She nodded silently, swallowing the lump forming in her throat.

Vishal Verma, her father, remained distant throughout the event. He stood near a group of guests, engaged in conversation about business, barely sparing his daughter a glance. He had performed his part during the ceremony, but now that the rituals were over, he showed no interest in emotional farewells.

Raj, her brother, fidgeted awkwardly. Unlike their parents, there was a flicker of concern in his eyes, but he stayed silent, unwilling or unable to defy their family’s cold approach. He walked over to her hesitantly and patted her shoulder. “Take care,” he muttered before quickly stepping back.

Her cousins exchanged polite smiles with her but avoided prolonged eye contact. The Verma family collectively exuded an air of relief, as though a weight had been lifted off their shoulders.

Shalini turned to the Ranawats with her most gracious smile, masking her true feelings. “Please take care of her. She is now your responsibility,” she said sweetly, bowing slightly toward Indra Singh Ranawat.

Indra, standing tall and composed, gave a curt nod, his face revealing nothing.

As Shivaay stood silently by the mandap, his piercing gaze fixed on the exit, Niharika felt a wave of unease. He hadn’t spoken to her, hadn’t acknowledged her presence since the ceremony. His body language screamed detachment, and she felt like an unwanted ornament in his world.

“Go, Niharika,” Shalini said finally, nudging her toward Shivaay. Her tone was more commanding than tender. “This is your new family now.”

The words stung, but Niharika obeyed. With heavy steps, she walked toward Shivaay, her heart pounding as she stood beside him. He didn’t look at her, didn’t offer her a hand—only turned sharply and began walking toward the grand exit.

She followed silently, sparing one last glance at her family. No one was crying. No one looked emotional. They had already turned their attention to other guests, their smiles wider and laughter louder now that she was out of sight.

Niharika stepped into the grand world of the Ranawats with an aching heart, feeling more alone than ever.

As the wedding rituals concluded, Niharika stood awkwardly near the mandap, feeling the heavy weight of the unfamiliar world she was stepping into. Her family had already turned away, their lack of warmth still fresh in her mind. She could feel her heart pounding, uncertainty settling in her chest.

Shweta Singh Ranawat, Shivaay's poised and elegant mother, approached her with a soft smile. “Come, Niharika,” she said gently, her voice carrying a maternal kindness that Niharika hadn’t experienced in a long time.

Behind her, Anita Singh Ranawat, ever the cheerful and lively aunt, joined in, her bangles jingling as she clasped Niharika’s hand. “Let’s get you settled, dear. It's time to leave for your new home.”

Riya Singh Ranawat, Shivaay’s younger sister, grinned playfully. “You’ve already stolen our hearts, bhabhi! Now let’s make sure bhaiya doesn’t scare you too much on the way back,” she teased, her tone light-hearted.

Niharika gave her a small, polite smile, unsure of how to respond. Their warmth was comforting, but she couldn’t shake the unease swirling within her.

As the women guided her toward the grand car parked at the venue’s entrance, Niharika noticed Shivaay standing nearby. His broad frame leaned against the sleek black luxury car, his expression unreadable. Those cold, kohl-black eyes of his darted toward her briefly before he straightened, exuding the air of a man who commanded the world without uttering a single word.

“Sit here, beta,” Shweta said as she gently led Niharika toward the car door. Anita and Riya helped her settle into the plush backseat.

Anita leaned in and whispered, “Don’t worry, dear. The Ranawat women always have each other’s backs. You’re one of us now.”

Riya chuckled as she added, “And don’t let Shivaay’s brooding act scare you. He’s all bark and no bite.” Her wink was meant to reassure, but Niharika couldn’t help but feel the tension in the air as she glanced at Shivaay.

He said nothing, merely opened the door on the other side and got in, his movements precise and controlled. He didn’t spare her a single glance as he adjusted his seat.

Shweta patted Niharika’s head gently before stepping back. “Take care of her, Shivaay,” she said softly.

Shivaay’s jaw tightened, but he gave a curt nod.

As the door closed, the car rolled away from the venue, leaving behind the Verma family and the festive lights. The atmosphere inside the car was tense. Shivaay sat silently, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, while Niharika stole nervous glances at him, unsure of what to expect.

The luxury of the car, the warmth of the Ranawat women, and the grandeur of her new life couldn’t drown out the sinking feeling in her heart. The man beside her might have been her husband now, but he felt more like a stranger—one who carried an air of hostility that was impossible to ignore.

The car ride was suffocating in its silence. Niharika sat rigidly on one side, her eyes fixed on the floor, her hands trembling slightly in her lap. Shivaay sat opposite her, his gaze out the window, his posture stiff and unyielding.

The space between them felt like an insurmountable gulf, filled with unspoken words, resentment, and the weight of the situation. Neither of them dared to speak, as if the quiet would somehow make things easier, even though it did the opposite.

Niharika’s thoughts raced—this wasn’t what she had imagined. The world she was now stepping into felt cold, alien, and filled with shadows. She glanced at Shivaay for a brief moment, but quickly averted her gaze, afraid of what she might see in his eyes.

Shivaay, on the other hand, kept his gaze fixed outside, his mind clouded with anger and frustration. He didn't want to be here, didn’t want this marriage. But the words he had said earlier, the promises he had made, seemed to have come alive in his mind, leaving him with a sense of confusion he couldn’t shake.

Neither of them spoke for the entire ride. The only sound in the car was the occasional hum of the engine and the distant noises of the city. The distance between them, both physical and emotional, felt more suffocating with each passing second.

As the car came to a stop in front of the grand mansion, the imposing gates slowly opened, revealing the lavish estate. The mansion stood like a silent witness to the event that had just unfolded. The opulence of the place seemed to echo Shivaay’s harshness, a stark contrast to the fragile nerves that Niharika felt inside her.

Without a glance toward Niharika, Shivaay got out of the car, his movements sharp and precise, as if he had a task to complete. He didn’t wait for her, didn’t acknowledge her presence as she slowly stepped out of the car, her feet feeling heavier with every step she took. She stood frozen for a moment, staring at the mansion's towering entrance. This was now her reality, and the thought made her stomach churn.

Shivaay didn’t even turn back to check if she was following. His broad shoulders barely registered any hint of the turmoil he might be feeling as he walked through the grand doors, leaving Niharika to follow behind him like a shadow. The sound of his footsteps echoed through the vast entrance hall, and Niharika hesitated, but then gathered herself and walked in.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she entered, unsure of what awaited her, unsure of what her place in this mansion—and in his life—was going to be. The coldness from Shivaay hung in the air like an invisible wall, unspoken and undeniable.

As Niharika stepped into the grand foyer, the sight before her was both overwhelming and intimidating. The maids, dressed in vibrant ghagras, were busy spreading fragrant flower petals along the path she was meant to walk. The air was thick with the scent of jasmine and rose, mingling with the grandeur of the estate. The entire scene looked like something out of a royal celebration—ornate decorations, sparkling chandeliers, and the rhythmic sound of classical music playing softly in the background.

She hesitated for a moment, feeling like a stranger in this world of luxury. The Ranawat family was already gathered, their presence imposing and formal. Shivaay stood at the front, his tall figure exuding an aura of authority. His expression remained stoic, his dark eyes piercing the atmosphere with an intensity that made Niharika feel small.

Her heart raced as she noticed the Ranawats—the powerful, intimidating figures she had only heard about or seen from a distance. Indra Singh Ranawat, Shivaay's father, stood near the center of the group, his sharp eyes assessing everything with calculated precision. Anita and Shweta were also present, the former offering a polite smile but not a hint of warmth.

Riya and Ivaan, the younger members of the family, exchanged a few words in hushed tones, likely discussing the events of the day. However, there was no real welcome, no attempt to make Niharika feel at ease. Instead, there was an unspoken tension in the air. It felt like everyone was simply waiting for the formalities to be over so they could move on with their lives.

Niharika walked further into the room, feeling all eyes on her. Her gaze briefly flickered to Shivaay, but his cold, indifferent expression made her quickly look away. She couldn’t shake the feeling of being out of place—like an unwelcome guest at a lavish affair. Yet, this was her life now, and she had no choice but to face it.

As the grand doors of the mansion loomed before her, Niharika could feel the weight of the moment. The grah pravesh—her first step into her new life—was about to begin. The ritual was symbolic, a passage from one life to another, but to her, it felt more like a daunting leap into the unknown.

Shweta, who had been silently guiding her, gently nudged her forward. "Go ahead, Niharika, push the kalash. It’s the first step."

With a slight tremble, Niharika reached out and pushed the kalash—its base decorated with marigolds and its water shimmering under the lights. As she did, her eyes were drawn to the plate in front of her. It contained vermilion mixed with water, glowing like a pool of liquid fire. For a fleeting moment, her gaze locked with the reflection in the mixture. There, in the crimson swirl, she saw not only her own face but also his—the cold, indifferent face of Shivaay Singh Ranawat.

His presence, looming like an unspoken force, echoed in that reflection. Their faces, separated by circumstances, yet mirrored in the vermilion—she could almost feel the cold tension between them, as if their fates had already been sealed in that crimson liquid.

Taking a deep breath, Niharika stepped into the vermilion, her foot landing with a soft, decisive thud. The red liquid clung to the soles of her feet, marking her entry into this new world, a world she hadn’t asked for but now had no choice but to embrace.

With every step she took after that, her heart pounded louder in her chest, the uncertainty of her future pressing down on her. Yet, she moved forward, determined not to let her fear show. This was it. She was crossing the threshold into a life with the Ranawats, into a world that felt alien and cold.

And as she walked, the house seemed to stretch on endlessly, its grandeur a constant reminder that she was just a pawn in a game she had no control over. But no matter how daunting it seemed, she would stand her ground. The vermilion on her feet was now a symbol of her resilience, even if she had no idea what awaited her in this mansion—her new prison.