"Freedom was never mine to choose; I was bound to his will, even in silence."

.

.

"He could offer me the world, but all I craved was the freedom to choose my own."

★⋆. ࿐࿔

"Where is your engagement ring?"

He asked, his voice cold and cutting, his gaze sharp as it bore into her.

Meghna's heart skipped a beat as Agastya's cold question hung in the air. She instinctively curled her fingers, hiding her hand from his view. She had never thought Agastya would notice so quickly, and she wasn't prepared for it.

The weight of his stare felt like a burden pressing down on her, but she forced herself to keep her eyes straight ahead, refusing to meet his gaze.

Meghna's heart raced as she finally admitted,

"It's in my bag."

Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it felt like a confession she couldn't hold back any longer.

Agastya's eyes flickered with something dark and unreadable.

"In your bag?"

He repeated, the disbelief in his tone unmistakable. He took a deep breath, visibly trying to rein in his frustration, but the edge in his voice betrayed him.

"Why are you hiding it?"

Meghna bit her lip, her thoughts swirling in turmoil. The truth was, she hadn't wanted anyone to see the ring. Wearing it felt like an announcement she wasn't ready to make, a declaration she wasn't willing to show the world just yet.

She didn't want to give off the impression that she was already tied down, as if the engagement had become a part of her identity.

"I just..."

She hesitated, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I didn't want everyone to know I'm engaged. Not yet."

The nervousness in his presence was written all over her face, clear and unmistakable. Meghna's fingers fidgeted in her lap, her eyes darting around the car, avoiding his piercing gaze. The tension between them seemed to thicken with each passing second.

Agastya's jaw tightened as the realization hit him. The fact that Meghna didn't want to show her ring-their ring- burned deep inside him.

To him, it wasn't just a simple decision to hide a piece of jewelry. It meant something more, something unsettling.

"She wants to stay single,"

He thought bitterly, his mind racing with the implication. It felt like a rejection, as if she was denying the bond they shared, the commitment they had made.

Agastya gripped the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles turning white. The anger simmered beneath the surface, but there was something else mixed in-hurt. She didn't want the world to know she was his. To him, it felt like she didn't want to be his.

"So that's it?"

He finally spoke, his voice low, but sharp with frustration.

"You want to pretend you're still single? Is that what this is about?"

Meghna's eyes widened at his accusation, but she remained silent, her mind racing. She hadn't seen it that way, but in Agastya's mind, it was as clear as day.

Yes, she didn't want to show everyone she was engaged to him- whether she admitted it or not-but his harsh words cut deeper than she expected, and it stung in a way she couldn't fully understand.

"You don't want to wear the ring because you don't want people to know you're engaged,"

He continued, his gaze hard and piercing.

"Because you want them to think you're still free. Is that it, Meghna?"

"I didn't mean it like that,"

She whispered, but the words felt weak, hollow, even to her own ears. She glanced away, unable to meet his piercing gaze any longer. Her mind was conflicted.

Part of her had been avoiding the reality of their engagement, pretending it wasn't real. But hearing him speak like that, with such anger and hurt behind his words, made her question her own feelings.

Why did it bother her so much to be with him in the eyes of others? And why did it hurt when he thought she didn't want him?

Agastya's voice dropped to a dangerously low tone as he spoke, his words laced with a mix of authority and control.

"I don't care what you think about me or what you mean by all this,"

He said, his eyes locked onto hers, sharp and unyielding.

"But you will respect this relation, Meghna. You're going to wear that ring right now,"

His grip on the steering wheel tightened more as he continued, his gaze never leaving her. " If I find that ring missing on your finger again,"

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle, "then you won't like what I'll do."

The threat in his voice wasn't loud or overt, but it was there-cold and unmistakable. It wasn't the kind of threat that came from anger alone; it came from his deep need to assert control, to remind her that their engagement wasn't something she could simply dismiss or hide from the world.

Meghna's heart raced, a mix of defiance and anxiety swirling inside her. She wanted to push back, to tell him he couldn't control her like that, but the intensity in his eyes held her tongue.

His words, sharp and commanding, left no room for argument. He was making it clear: this wasn't just a suggestion. It was a demand.

She instinctively gripped her bag tighter, feeling the small metal ring hidden inside. She didn't want to wear it-not now, not in front of him, not after everything he had just said. But the way he was looking at her, as though he wouldn't take no for an answer, made her realize she had no choice in the matter.

She slowly opened her bag and pulled out the engagement ring. The sight of it, a symbol of a relationship she still wasn't sure how to handle, only made her heart pound harder.

Agastya's gaze never wavered as he watched her hesitate, his expression unreadable but his impatience palpable. "Now,"

He repeated, the single word sharp enough to cut through the tension in the car.

Reluctantly, Meghna slid the ring onto her finger, the cool metal feeling heavier than it should. It wasn't just a piece of jewelry; it was a reminder that her life was no longer her own, bound to a man whose presence scares her.

Meghna quietly sat after slipping the ring onto her finger, her lips pressed together in a thin line. The silence between them felt suffocating, heavy with unspoken words and unexpressed emotions.

She wanted to say so much-wanted to lash out, to demand why she had to wear a ring that felt more like a chain. But the words were stuck in her throat, buried beneath the fear that gripped her chest.

★⋆. ࿐࿔

They reached the airport in tense silence, the atmosphere between them heavy with unspoken words. Meghna walked a few paces behind Agastya, her thoughts racing as they made their way toward the private jet. The towering structure of the jet loomed before her, sleek and imposing, much like the man who now controlled the direction of her life.

As they boarded, Meghna couldn't shake the feeling of dread settling in her chest. She glanced out the window as they prepared for takeoff, watching Delhi slowly disappear from view, the sprawling city replaced by an endless stretch of clouds.

The hum of the engines filled the cabin, but inside her mind, there was only the sound of her own worries. This was it-she was leaving everything familiar behind, and the journey to New York had begun.

The thought should have been exhilarating, a chance to escape, but it felt more like stepping into the unknown with chains still wrapped around her heart.

Agastya sat across from her, focused on his phone, his face unreadable. He hadn't spoken much since the incident with the ring, but his presence was felt with every passing moment. Meghna shifted in her seat, trying to get comfortable, but the weight of what lay ahead kept her on edge.

She watched the clouds drift past, wondering what New York would bring, and whether she'd ever truly be able to break free from the hold Agastya seemed to have over her life.

★⋆. ࿐࿔

AGASTYA~

The surge of jealousy that hit me when I saw Meghna hugging that boy was like nothing I'd ever felt before. It infuriated me-the way they held onto each other so tightly, like they couldn't bear to let go.

The longer they clung to each other, the more my anger simmered beneath the surface. I wanted to tear them apart, to pull her away from him, but I forced myself to stay calm, to keep my emotions in check, even though it was killing me inside.

But then, as if the hug wasn't enough, I noticed her hand-bare, without the engagement ring. That was the moment everything inside me snapped.

The sight of her empty finger made my blood boil. She didn't want people to see that she was mine, that she was spoken for. No, she wanted to appear free, unattached-like she could still do whatever she wanted, like she wasn't engaged to me.

That stung more than anything. The thought that she wanted to project herself as single, to show the world she was free, hit me in a way I hadn't expected.

I hated it. I hated how it made me feel-powerless, like she could just slip away from me at any moment. But I wouldn't let that happen. Not now, not ever.

I glanced over at her, asleep peacefully in the seat beside me, completely unaware of the storm she'd stirred up in my mind. It's always like this-she pushes me to the edge, drives me insane with her defiance, and then, as if nothing happened, she retreats into this calm, innocent state, leaving me to simmer in my frustration.

I leaned closer, unable to tear my eyes away from her. Her hand rested lightly on the seat, and for a moment, I couldn't help but notice how serene she looked while sleeping, her face soft and calm, so deceivingly innocent.

But I knew better-she was far from innocent. She was scared of me, sure, but that fear kept her in check. Otherwise, she'd never hesitate to lash out, to challenge me with that sharp tongue of hers. If she wasn't afraid, she'd rip me apart without a second thought.

A strand of hair had fallen across her face, and without thinking, my hand moved toward it, gently tucking it behind her ear. The gesture was almost automatic, a strange mix of tenderness and control. She was a force to be reckoned with, even in her silence, but in moments like this, she seemed almost fragile. Almost.

I couldn't help but smile as I watched her, even though she has the uncanny ability to trigger me at any moment. Despite all that, her mere presence had this strange way of calming me down, like a storm that brings peace once it passes.

I silently prayed that God would grant me the patience I'd need to deal with her in the future because I knew she wasn't the type to back down easily. She was fire, and I'd need every ounce of self-control to handle her.

With a deep breath, I shifted my focus back to my laptop, diving into the work had waiting for me. Lately, there'd been an influx of offers from various gangster families looking to collaborate with us on Mafia deals. It was becoming harder to sift through all the requests, but Abhi wasn't interested.

He hated the idea of relying on anyone else. He believed we were more than capable of running everything ourselves, without the help of outsiders. He had a point-after all, we'd built our empire together-but part of me couldn't shake the feeling that expanding those connections might be the next step forward.

END OF AGASTYA POV

★⋆. ࿐࿔

After a long, exhausting journey, they finally touched down in New York. Meghna stirred awake as the jet landed, rubbing her eyes as she tried to shake off the remnants of sleep. The moment they stepped out of the jet, the crisp New York air greeted them, and the scene was already set- their car stood waiting, with a group of guards stationed nearby.

One of Agastya's men approached, handing him the car keys with a respectful nod. Agastya took them without a word, his presence commanding the area as always. The guards stood alert, eyes scanning the surroundings, ensuring everything was in order.

Meghna, still a little groggy from the flight, glanced around, taking in the unfamiliar cityscape while Agastya's focus remained sharp and steady, already in control of the situation.

They both slid into the sleek car, the engine purring softly as Agastya started to drive. The silence between them was heavy, only broken by the occasional hum of the city outside.

Meghna stared out of the window, watching the streets of New York blur by, her thoughts racing as they approached her new life. She wasn't sure how to feel-excited, nervous, or trapped.

Behind them, a convoy of security vehicles followed closely, a constant reminder of the world Agastya lived in. His expression remained unreadable as he navigated through the city, his focus set on the destination. Meghna could sense the weight of his authority, the unspoken control he always held.

They were heading toward the place where she would be staying, though Agastya had yet to reveal all the details. She could feel the tension building, knowing that her life here was about to change, and not entirely on her own terms.

★⋆. ࿐࿔

They finally arrived at their destination-Agastya's house. As the car rolled to a stop, Meghna's eyes widened in surprise. She had expected an apartment, something modest and practical for her stay in New York.

Instead, before her stood a massive, imposing mansion, its elegant architecture towering over the manicured gardens that framed the driveway. The house was both grand and intimidating, far from the simple apartment she had imagined.

Meghna stepped out of the car, her eyes scanning the unfamiliar surroundings. Everything about the place felt foreign and overwhelming, from the sheer size of the building to the silence that surrounded it.

She had assumed she'd have her own space, a quiet place in the city to settle into, but this was something entirely different.

Agastya stepped out beside her, handing the car keys to one of his men without a word. His expression gave nothing away, as if this was all perfectly natural. To him, it probably was.

But for Meghna, it was another reminder of the world she was now entangled in-a world far removed from her own.

"What is this place, and why am I here?"

Meghna asked, her voice a mix of confusion and frustration as she looked at Agastya, demanding an explanation.

Agastya turned to her, his face as calm as ever, almost indifferent. "This is my house,"

He said simply, his tone firm.

"And you're going to live here from now on. It's all yours."

Meghna's heart sank at Agastya's words. She didn't want to live here, not in this grand mansion again like she is in Delhi, that felt more like a prison than a home.

The towering walls and the heavy air of control suffocated her. She had imagined living in a modest apartment where she could have some semblance of freedom, but now that hope was slipping away.

"I don't want to live here, Agastya,"

She finally said, her voice soft but firm.

"This... this isn't what I wanted."

Agastya's expression didn't waver. He stepped closer to her, his gaze unwavering. "It's not about what you want anymore, Meghna. It's about what's best for you. And this is it. You'll be safe here. No arguments."

His words left no room for negotiation, and Meghna felt a familiar knot of frustration and helplessness tighten in her chest. But deep down, she knew that with Agastya, defiance would lead nowhere.

★⋆. ࿐࿔