02

Chapter 1



"Who would dare to taste this sweet, forbidden honey first?"

A hush fell over the gathering, the room thick with tension and anticipation.

"Whoever wishes to claim this treasure," the auctioneer continued, "must step forward and offer the highest bid."

"Twenty thousand."

"Fifty thousand."

"One million rupees!"

A collective gasp echoed through the grand hall as all eyes turned toward the figure at the back—calm, composed, and cloaked in mystery.

The murmurs began almost instantly.

"Isn’t that the sole heir of the Chandravanshi family?"

A woman in a deep crimson saree leaned forward, her kohl-lined eyes narrowing as she examined the bidder more closely. Recognition dawned across her face, lighting it with intrigue.

"Yes, the only surviving heir. God alone knows the depth of their fortune... They say the Chandravanshi are among the wealthiest in all of Jaisalmer."

Another woman, standing behind her, whispered eagerly, her voice trembling with barely contained excitement.

"Truly, fate works in strange ways. I was certain no one would bid for this girl—her dark complexion, her silence... I feared she’d be discarded like the others. But look! The richest man in the city just bought her. We'll be swimming in riches now, Heena!"

The younger woman—Heena—offered her superior a tight-lipped smile.

"As you said, Maasi Ma."

They all called her Maasi Ma—a woman whose beauty masked a soul steeped in shadows. She wore grace like a weapon, and though her past was a graveyard of broken lives, she had chosen—deliberately, ruthlessly—to become one of the monsters.

"Bring the girl to the preparation room. Mr. Chandravanshi will want to meet his purchase," she commanded, her voice smooth but cold.

"Yes, Maasi Ma."

Heena left the room and walked down a dim hallway. She pushed open the heavy door of a small chamber. Inside, a girl sat curled on the floor, her face hidden in her lap, shoulders quaking with silent sobs.

Heena’s eyes swept over her with practiced detachment. Tears were nothing new in this house; they flowed freely at first, then dried up like forgotten rivers.

She knelt and grabbed the girl's trembling hand.

The girl winced at her touch—so soft and fragile against the harsh grip.

"Get up!" Heena barked.

"No... I won’t go—"

Slap.

The sharp sound cracked through the still air. The girl clutched her cheek, her eyes wide, wet, and glistening as they met Heena’s.

"Silence!" Heena snapped. "Maasi Ma has ordered you be made ready for tonight. Consider yourself fortunate—you’ve caught a man, not some ancient lecher. Be grateful."

Her words dripped with contempt. The girl—Shree—shrank back, her stomach turning at the cruelty masked as kindness.

She didn’t speak. She couldn’t.

She was no longer a girl with dreams. She was merchandise, bought and sold.

And the night had only just begun.



The corridor stretched like a never-ending tunnel as Shree was led forward—barefoot, broken, and bracing for what she thought was inevitable.

Her heart thudded violently within her chest, each beat a drum of dread. She kept her gaze downcast, her breath shallow. The luxurious halls of the mansion felt like a gilded cage, far too elegant to belong to a place where innocence was auctioned like cattle.

He bought me.

That thought echoed, again and again, like a cruel mantra.

Men don’t spend a million rupees for mercy, she thought bitterly. No one bids that high for pity. He will take what he believes he now owns.

Her fingers curled into trembling fists. She hated this—this waiting, this not knowing. The stories whispered by broken girls in hidden corners echoed in her mind, fueling the terror that wrapped itself around her throat like a noose.

They stopped outside a grand door, its gold inlay gleaming under the chandelier light. Heena gave her one last look—mocking, amused—and pushed the door open.

"Go in. And don't try to act clever."

The door shut behind her with a finality that made her flinch.

The room inside was immense and lavish, the air cool with the scent of sandalwood and fresh linen. Shree stood still, her feet sinking slightly into the plush carpet. The silence was deafening.

And there he was.

Tanishk Chandravanshi .

He stood by the window, his tall frame silhouetted against the night sky. Moonlight poured into the room, touching his features with silver. He didn’t turn. He didn’t speak.

He just... stood there.

Shree took a small, instinctive step back.

This is it.

She waited for him to beckon her forward, to speak, to claim what he had paid for. Her stomach clenched.

But he didn’t move.

After what felt like an eternity, he turned—not toward her, but toward the bed. He walked to it with unhurried grace, undid the buttons of his waistcoat, placed it neatly on the chair, and lay down without a word.

Shree blinked.

He didn’t look at her. Not once.

She stood frozen, watching as he pulled a soft blanket over himself, turned his back to her, and fell silent.

Minutes passed.

Then an hour.

No words.

No glance.

No touch.

Shree stood like a ghost in a strange dream, her mind trying to process the unthinkable.

Why…?

Her legs finally gave out, and she sank to the floor, eyes wide and brimming with confusion. The stillness of the room pressed around her like a soft cloak, not the cage she had feared.

Her heart was still racing, but this time, it was not from terror—it was from disbelief.

Is this a trick? Is he testing me? Or…

She wrapped her arms around her knees and stared at the cold marble tiles, listening to the rhythm of his breathing.

No man behaves like this. Not here. Not after buying a girl.

And yet, he had.

Shree didn’t sleep that night. Her thoughts twisted and tangled like storm winds.

She didn’t know what kind of man Tanishk Randhawa was.

But for the first time since being brought here, she dared to wonder—

Maybe… just maybe… there was something different about this one.



The morning light spilled softly through the silk curtains, casting a golden haze across the room. Shree stirred on the cold floor, her limbs stiff, her mind groggy from a sleepless night.

She opened her eyes slowly.

The room was silent—too silent.

Her gaze shifted toward the bed.

Empty.

The blanket was neatly folded. The pillow left no trace of his presence.

Tanishk Chandravanshi was gone.

She sat up slowly, brushing strands of hair away from her face, the events of the night rushing back like a wave. She blinked, unsure whether to feel relieved… or confused.

Before her thoughts could settle, the door creaked open.

Heena entered, her steps quick and purposeful. She held a folded bundle of clean clothes in one hand and a copper tray with a glass of milk in the other.

Her face was unreadable, but her eyes... her eyes flickered with something sharp. Something tight and simmering just beneath the surface.

She placed the items down without looking at Shree.

"Mr. Chandravanshi has left for the day," she said curtly. "But he left instructions."

Shree turned her head slightly, wary.

Heena straightened, folding her arms over her chest.

"He’s made a deal with Maasi Ma."

A pause.

"He paid... a lot. Enough to silence every man in this house. Enough to buy you your freedom from touch."

The words hit Shree like a slap—not painful, but shocking. She blinked slowly, unsure if she’d heard her right.

"No man will come near you."

Heena's voice was flat, but her jaw was tight.

Shree’s heart thundered, but her face remained composed. Carefully, she pulled the shawl tighter around herself and lowered her gaze, forcing her breathing to slow.

Why?
The question screamed in her head, but her lips didn’t move.

Why would a man pay a fortune for something he would never claim?

What does he want from me?

Heena gave her a look—sharp, burning, heavy with something unspoken. Envy coiled in her chest like a snake.

She couldn’t hold it in any longer.

Her gaze raked over Shree—this thin, dusky-skinned girl with hollow cheeks and tired eyes, sitting like a caged animal on the floor of a room far too rich for her presence.

What did he see in her?
What could she possibly give the son of a royal family—when he had a wife at home who looked like a goddess carved from marble?

Heena bit the inside of her cheek.

She didn’t say anything more. She turned on her heel and walked out, the door clicking shut behind her.

Shree sat still.

Her mind raced, but her expression remained calm—like still water hiding a deep undercurrent.

She wasn’t sure what this strange man wanted. She didn’t trust him. But she understood one thing now—he hadn’t bought her body.

Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

And that changed everything.

For the first time since she had been dragged into this place, Shree allowed herself a flicker of something fragile and dangerous.

Hope.


Sneak peek- Chapter 2

Tanishk walked past her, his indifference like a wall between them, and headed straight to the bed without acknowledging her presence.

"Tanishk, I need to give them some answers!" she said, her voice rising slightly, though it still carried no warmth. "You can’t keep pretending I don’t exist. We are married. You owe me that much—at least the truth!"

Her tone was firm but devoid of emotion, as if she had grown used to rehearsing pain.



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