VIREN’S POV

Arrival at Rathore Haveli, Jodhpur

The evening sun melted over the golden dunes and ancient havelis of Jodhpur, making everything look like a painting dipped in gold. It was beautiful—so beautiful it almost felt surreal. But I hadn’t come for the view.

Perfect setting for a little harmless fun. Roohi’s engagement was just an excuse to take a break from the suffocating monotony of Delhi’s boardrooms and nightclubs.

It was going to be a week-long royal circus, three hundred guests. But I hadn’t come for the ceremonies. I’d come to breathe, to lose myself in good music, smooth drinks, and prettier distractions and if luck favored me, a couple of scandalously beautiful women to flirt with, who didn’t ask for anything more than a name and a night.

Vihan’s family knew how to host a party.

Engagement celebrations had officially kicked off, and the Rathore family had thrown open their royal palaces to entertain half the country.

The Rathore palace was buzzing with opulence, laughter, and way too many people I didn’t care to remember.

A croud as big as this was like a candy store for men like Shaurya and me.

Shaurya strolled up, bumping my shoulder with his usual swagger.

“See anything worth breaking hearts over, Casanova?”

I rolled my cuffs back and smiled lazily. “Let’s hope the guest list includes some heartbreakers.”

He grinned, tossing me a fresh white kurta. “Jodhpur’s finest. Handpicked. Curated. I may have stalked a few Insta handles just for you.”

Perfect!

He and I? We have Always been on the same page. Unlike our other friends desperate to settle, we still had miles of mischief to make.

I’d promised myself this trip would be about fun. No drama. No attachments. Definitely no ghosts from the past. Just drinks, dancing, and maybe someone warm and willing to make the night interesting.

It was a setup made for mischief—centuries-old stone walls were glowing under flickering lanterns, shadows playing along the walls, the low hum of folk instruments were vibrating through the sandstone, it was low and sensuous. The air was thick with the scent of roasted spices and sandalwood. The faint shimmer of royalty in the air.

Women floated through the crowd like living poetry. Silks rustled. Bangles chimed. Laughter curled around columns like smoke.

We prowled the courtyard like lions on the hunt.

I scanned the room... Tonight felt ripe with possibility.

Easy targets.

“Bro, tonight is ours, The Rathore family has opened up their havelis. Hundreds of guests. Hundreds of pretty, bored girls. We just have to charm them.” Shaurya announced, laughing as he slapped my back, I smirked.

“ Let's see who gets more of them to dance to our tunes. ” I challenged him with a raised eyebrow.

“Challenge accepted.” he winked.

One particular girl, no—a woman, caught my eye — smoky eyes, a low-cut blouse, curves like poetry, eyes like sin, and legs that could kill a man. I tilted my head and gave her the look.

I tilted my head. Flashed the look. She giggled. Predictable.

Here I come beautiful...

But just as I was about to move—step into character, play the charming bastard I’d perfected over the years—when I felt something.

A shift.

It was like gravity realigned. Something, someone, tugged at me. As if I was being chained and pulled in another direction.

I turned my head instinctively.

Not towards the girl I was flirting with.

Someone else.

And then—I saw her.

Or rather, I felt her before I saw her. A flicker. A flash of yellow. No—sunlight, dipped in gold. A flutter of midnight-dark hair. A laugh—low, musical, devastating—that sliced through the desert air and straight through me like a blade of memory.

She turned slightly. I couldn’t see her face clearly. Just a side profile. Not even her full face. And yet—my heartbeat stuttered.

I managed a glimpse of her before she disappeared into the shadows of the inner corridor, her laughter trailing behind like perfume. Something primal in me—raw, ancient, male—snapped awake.

I should’ve looked away. Focused on the woman still eyeing me from across the courtyard. But my soul had already shifted. Like a compass that had found north after years of spinning.

Something in me wouldn’t let go. I took a step forward. Something telling me that it was her.

I shook my head, and tried to focus on the girl who was clearly interested. But I couldn’t. And that irritated me like hell.

My eyes swept the crowd, almost frantic. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe someone just looked like her, but I could not find her.

And just then—she reappeared.

I blinked. My chest tightened.

Oh God. It was her.

My breath caught mid-sip. Lime soda halfway to my mouth. Paralyzed.

What the hell was that? I had never felt like it. I don't know what it was but I could associate it with how a werewolf feels when he finds his mate.

No. No, no, no.

It couldn’t be.

I must be hallucinating. Or drunk, Or horny. Or losing my goddamn mind.

It was her!

But how? Why? Why now? Why here?

Was she… part of the family?

Some distant cousin of Vihan? Who invited her here?

It had been five years. Five long years....

She looked different, more confident, older, more curvy, sexy and more beautiful now. She moved like she knew people were watching… and didn’t care.

A dupatta draped carelessly over her shoulder, her blouse dipped low at the back, revealing skin and memory. My fingers twitched with the memory of once brushing that very skin. My mind rebelled, but my body remembered.

The years had been good to her.

Too good.

The girl I remembered was a beautiful pampered one, born with a silver spoon. Careless and impulsive.

This woman—she carried shadows.

I didn’t even know her name.

But she’d known mine—or at least the one that I used only for work.

Where had she been? Why had she left? Why no word?

The questions came hard and fast, clanging around my skull.

Just then I found her again laughing with an elderly lady near the stage. So familiar. So heartbreakingly familiar.

She turned and looked up, our eyes met. And the world shattered.

Her laughter died mid-sentence. Her smile vanished. Her face drained of color. That peach-pink mouth parted in stunned silence.

She froze.

In that one second—just one single second—I saw: Shock. Guilt. Fear. And something that made my throat tighten—longing. So, she recognized me too??

Yes, of course, and she remembered everything and it looked like she wanted to bolt.

Just like last time.