Characters introduction

Adithya Deshrath (ML): billionaire business from a rich fam own millions in gold and vast lands. He is arrogant, rude to most, but madly in love with his wife, Sita. He is obsessively devoted to her, very possessive, . He calls her "sweetheart."

Sita Adithya Deshrath (FL): A tender, kind woman who respects ml. . believes she is beneath him.confors to social norms

Shalini , second wife, . She is a gold-digger, but ml makes it clear from the start that he does not love or consider her his wife. He offers to divorce her anytime. She has her own room, a butler, and expenses provided for, but ml never interacts with her personally.she try to win over ml

Their dynamics

The grand Deshrath mansion was adorned with intricate carvings and marbled pillars that reflected the wealth and power of the family. It was a symbol of pride for Adithya Deshrath, but not for the reasons one might expect. To him, the mansion was where Sita lived, where she cooked with her delicate hands, and where her soft voice was heard . The rest of the world faded when she was near.

Sita sat quietly in the courtyard, clad in a deep red saree that clung to her petite frame. Her face was adorned with minimal jewelry, yet she looked ethereal. She was meticulously slicing fruits for the temple offering, her movements precise and graceful. To anyone else, she was the perfect traditional wife. But to Adithya, she was his everything.

Adithya stood at the doorway, watching her with an intensity that was almost tangible. His tailored kurta fit snugly over his broad shoulders, and his commanding aura filled the space. Though society expected him to remain indifferent toward his wife, as most men of his stature did, Adithya defied every convention.

Narrator POV

Sita had grown up dreaming of a husband who might acknowledge her existence, someone who would fulfill his duties but otherwise leave her be. That was the reality of most women in her village. When she was married to Adithya Deshrath, she expected nothing less. He was a man of wealth and stature, and she was just a girl from a modest family.

On their wedding day, Adithya had vowed to himself that Sita would never feel neglected, though he knew she expected little from him. He had fallen for her the moment he saw her in the temple months before their marriage—a vision of grace, humility, and quiet strength.

But society and its patriarchal norms weren’t so kind to their union. A few months after their wedding, his parents pressured him to take a second wife, Shalini—a connection that promised financial and political leverage. Reluctantly, Adithya had agreed cause shalini's dad was a politician who had something against Sita's past, he openly declared that his heart belonged to Sita and right after his marriage with shalini he had prepared the divorce papers waiting for the day she was done playing his wife and will ask for it ..

To be continued

POV: Narrator

The grand mansion of the Deshrath family was alive with commotion. Adithya Deshrath, the formidable patriarch, stood tall among the throng of relatives gathered in the sprawling hall. The air was thick with anticipation, the hushed whispers of family members growing louder with each passing moment. The Deshrath name carried immense prestige, and tonight, everyone awaited the arrival of the next heir—or so they hoped.

The heavy teak doors to Sita's room remained closed as muffled cries echoed from within. Inside, Sita, dressed in a pale pink saree now stained with sweat, clutched the sheets tightly. Her soft, exhausted voice broke through the rhythmic encouragement of the midwife. "Adi ji…" she whispered, her voice frail but determined, "Is he…is Adi ji outside?"

"He is waiting, madam," the midwife reassured her, patting her forehead with a damp cloth.

Outside, Adithya paced near the doorway, his expression stoic, though his heart pounded in his chest. His carefully crafted facade of arrogance cracked for a moment when he heard Sita cry out again.

"How much longer?" he growled at the attending doctor.

"Sir, it’s progressing well. Just a little more patience."

Patience was not Adithya's virtue, but for Sita, he would wait an eternity.

POV: Adithya

The wails of a newborn shattered the tension. My heart skipped a beat. The door creaked open, and the midwife stepped out, a bundle wrapped in white cloth nestled in her arms.

"Congratulations, sir," she said hesitantly, her tone betraying the news she bore. "It’s a girl."

For a moment, the room fell silent. I heard a disappointed sigh from one of my distant aunts. My mother clicked her tongue in disapproval. "A girl? A Deshrath girl? What a shame…"

I shot them a glare so sharp that it silenced every murmur. Walking forward, I held out my arms. "Give her to me."

The midwife hesitated, perhaps expecting me to turn away. But as the warm, tiny weight of my daughter filled my arms, I felt something I hadn’t expected—an overwhelming surge of love.

I stared at the little face peeking out from the swaddle, her rosy cheeks and tightly shut eyes. My Ruhi.

"Adi…" Sita’s weak voice drew my attention. I turned to find her propped up on the bed,her saree disheveled,her face pale but her eyes sparkling with exhaustion and relief.

I moved to her side, carefully placing our daughter in her arms. "She’s perfect, sweetheart," I whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "You’ve given me the greatest gift."

Tears welled in her eyes. "But…but everyone wanted a son," she murmured.

"I don't F***ing care about anyone but you sweetheart ," I said firmly, my voice low but steady. I tilted her chin up so she would meet my eyes. "You’ve given me a daughter. A daughter who will carry your kindness and grace. She is everything I need. Both of you are."

POV: Narrator

Relatives exchanged awkward glances, their initial disappointment replaced with unease under Adithya’s piercing glare. No one dared to comment further, not even his domineering mother.

The room grew quieter as Adithya sat beside Sita, his demeanor softening as he cradled both his wife and child in his arms. For a man known for his ruthlessness, his tenderness was startling.

"Sir," his loyal butler intervened cautiously, "the guests are still waiting downstairs."

"They can wait," Adithya snapped, not even sparing a glance. His attention was solely on Sita and Ruhi.

Sita’s fingers gently touched his arm. "Adi ji, don’t be angry. They’re family…"

"Family doesn’t judge the worth of a child by their gender," he replied coldly, before his voice softened. "I won’t let anyone—anyone—make you or Ruhi feel like you’re not enough."

Later that evening, when most of the relatives had reluctantly departed, Adithya sat by the crib where Ruhi slept peacefully. Sita lay resting on the bed, her features serene in the dim glow of the bedside lamp.

Adithya leaned closer to Ruhi, a rare smile tugging at his lips. "You’ve bound your mother to me forever, little one," he murmured. "Now she can never leave."

In his heart, he knew this wasn’t entirely true. Sita’s devotion to him had always been unwavering, but the fear of losing her had haunted him since the day they married. Ruhi’s arrival felt like a divine bond—a promise that Sita would always remain by his side.

POV: Narrator

As the night deepened, Adithya’s protectiveness swelled within him. While the world outside might judge, criticize, and question, inside these walls, Sita and Ruhi were his sanctuary. And he would destroy anyone who dared disrupt the fragile peace they had created.