A week had passed since Black Crown intercepted the drug shipment.
In that one week, everything inside the Mehra mansion had been unusually calm.

Ishaan hadn't raised his voice once.
He hadn't accused Aanya, insulted her, or reminded her of her place.
In fact — and strangely — he was the one who often initiated conversations.
Simple, harmless ones.
Asking if she had eaten.
Calling her to bring his coffee in the evening.
Asking for dinner when he came home late.

They were ordinary exchanges, but for them — it was a fragile kind of peace.
Aanya didn't dare to question it, but Ishaan knew why he was doing it.
He was guilty.
Guilty of that night... when he'd yelled at her, when he'd said those cruel words:
"Then why don't you just stay with Karan?"

Those words had cut deeper than he realized.
And now, every time he remembered them — and her tearful eyes — he felt the sting of regret.
She had been right.
He never truly accepted her as his wife... so how could he accuse her of belonging to someone else?

He wanted to apologize.
But how does Ishaan Mehra, the man everyone fears, say sorry?
He couldn't.
So he chose the second option — to change, quietly.
To try.
To stop shouting.
To show, not say, that he was sorry.

And so the week passed like that — quietly, almost peacefully.
But there was one person deeply bothered by the change: Karan.

Karan had tried again and again to talk to Aanya.
To ask what had happened.
Why she was avoiding him.
But every time he approached, she either ignored him or made some excuse to leave.

Since that day — the day Ishaan had accused her — Aanya hadn't even looked at Karan.
Not because she hated him, but because she didn't want to give Ishaan another reason to question her loyalty.

Because for Ishaan, she might not be a wife...
but for Aanya — Ishaan was her husband.
Yes, she had accepted it — the day she learned the truth.

The truth about Nisha's death.
The truth about Ishaan's pain and revenge.
She had realized that Ishaan wasn't heartless — just broken.
A man desperate to protect what was left of his family.
And for that, he'd built walls of anger and cruelty around himself.

Aanya had made her decision:
She would stay away from Karan.
She would stay out of Ishaan's blacklist.
She would not do anything that could make him hate her again.

But today  — fate had other plans.

Its  evening, after finishing her chores, Aanya sat alone at the dining table.
The house was quiet — most of the staff had left, and the family was upstairs.
She sat there, lost in her thoughts, unaware that Karan had entered through the side hall.

When he saw her — alone, quiet, vulnerable — he acted.
He walked straight to her and, before she could react, grabbed her wrist firmly.

"Karan, what are you—?" she gasped, trying to pull her hand back.

"Just come with me," he said sharply, dragging her toward the back side of the living room.
The suddenness of it startled her — the pressure of his grip, the urgency in his steps.

"Karan! Stop!" she protested, twisting her wrist, struggling to free herself.
But he didn't stop until they were hidden from view — behind the heavy curtains, near the back patio door.

"Come on, just stand here and listen to me," Karan said breathlessly, still holding her wrist.

Aanya's anger flared. She yanked her hand free, her voice rising.
"What do you think you're doing, Karan?" she shouted, eyes blazing.

Karan's frustration spilled out like fire.
"What am I doing? No, Aanya — what are you doing, huh? Why are you ignoring me?" he demanded. His tone was loud, strained, his voice echoing through the marble hall. "I've been trying to talk to you this whole damn week, and you keep running away. Why?"

Aanya took a breath, her expression hardening.
"Because I don't want to," she said firmly, her voice calm but cutting. She stared straight at him — unflinching.

Karan exhaled deeply, trying to calm himself.
"What's wrong with you, Aanya?" he said, softer this time. "You know you can tell me anything. If there's a problem, I'll help you. Just— just tell me."

"I don't want anyone's help, Karan," Aanya replied, steady and cold. "I'm fine. There's nothing wrong with me."

"Nothing wrong?" he said bitterly, stepping closer. "Then what are you even doing here — in this house?"

"Because I have to," she said quietly, locking eyes with him.

"Have to?" Karan's voice cracked. "And I'm asking why?"

Aanya didn't answer. She just turned, trying to walk away.
But Karan caught her wrist again, pulling her back.
"Where are you going? I'm asking you something!"

She stayed silent, her jaw tight, eyes glistening with held-back tears.

Karan sighed, lowering his tone.
"Fine. You don't want to tell me what's going on — fine. But at least tell me... why did you stop talking to me, Aanya?" His voice softened with pain. "We were happy... weren't we? Why?"

Aanya looked at him, tears forming but her voice firm.
"You're asking why I stopped talking to you? Karan, it's you. You never had time for me. I called, I messaged — and you ignored me. Every time. And when you did talk, you were cold, distant... like I didn't even matter."

Karan's face fell.
"Okay, fine," he said quickly, his voice breaking. "I'm accepting it. It's my fault. I'm sorry, Aanya. I'm so sorry. But why are you pushing me away now? Let's start again, please. I've settled my work. I promise, this time I'll give you everything — all the time you want."

Aanya shook her head. Her voice came out soft but final.
"That's not possible anymore, Karan. We broke up. And we can't be together again."

"Why not?" he said desperately. "I—I love you, Aanya. I know I was an idiot before, but I'll fix everything this time. Please— let's just start again."

"It's not possible, Karan," she whispered. "Not now."

"Aanya, don't say that. I— I miss you so much," he said, voice trembling.
Before she could react, he suddenly pulled her into his arms — hugging her tightly.

Aanya froze — completely stunned.
Her hands hovered mid-air, shock written all over her face.

And then—
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A cold, hard voice sliced through the air like ice.
"What do you think you're doing, Karan?"

Both froze.

They turned — and there stood Ishaan, his expression storm-dark, his eyes blazing with fury.
He walked toward them with quiet, dangerous steps. Before Karan could even speak—

THWACK!

Ishaan's fist connected with Karan's jaw. The sound echoed like thunder.
Karan hit the marble floor hard, clutching his face, dazed.

Aanya gasped, her heart pounding. Ishaan stood over Karan, chest heaving, his hand still clenched. He didn't even seem to realize what he'd done — just pure, uncontrolled rage.

He'd just come home from the office when he heard voices near the back living room - He'd gone to check, thinking maybe a worker was talking — but when he hear karan voice he goes straight there and  saw Karan holding Aanya, hugging her—

He lost control.

The noise brought everyone rushing in.
Mr. and Mrs. Mehra.
Jay.
Jiya.
They all froze at the scene before them.

Karan on the floor, holding his jaw.
Ishaan standing rigid, anger radiating off him.
Aanya frozen in place, pale and trembling.

"What's going on here?" Mr. Mehra demanded, his voice booming. "Ishaan! Why did you hit Karan?"

Ishaan didn't look away from Karan.
"Ask your son, Uncle," he snapped. "Ask him why he hugged Aanya!"

Everyone gasped.
Mrs. Sikha Mehra's eyes widened.
"W—what?" she whispered, staring at Karan in disbelief.

Karan stood slowly, still rubbing his jaw. He looked from Ishaan to his mother — and then something inside him snapped.

"Yes. I hugged her," Karan said coldly. "And why does that even matter to you, Ishaan? Who are you to her?"

"Karan!" Mrs. Mehra snapped, horrified. He had never spoken to Ishaan like that before.

But Karan continued, voice shaking with anger.
"No, Mom, let me talk! I've had enough." He turned to her. "Do you know who I love, Mom? Do you know who I've loved all this time?"

Mrs. Mehra frowned, confused. "she shake her head as no."

Karan raised a trembling finger — pointing at Aanya.
"She," he said. "She's the one I love. Aanya."

The room went still.
No one moved.
Even the ticking clock seemed to stop.

"But what is she doing here, Mom?" Karan said bitterly. "Why is she living in this mansion — working like a servant?" His eyes locked on Ishaan. "Like somewhere deep down he know ishaan is the reasion."

He turned to Aanya again, voice breaking. "I kept asking her, again and again, why she broke up with me, why she's here — but she never answered me. So yes, I hugged her! Because I love her!"

"Shut up, Karan!" Ishaan exploded, stepping forward.

"Why?!" Karan shouted back. "What is she to you, huh?! Tell me, Ishaan — who is she to you?"

The silence that followed was electric — heavy with something unspoken.

And then the silence broke-
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"BECAUSE SHE IS MY WIFE," Ishaan said, his voice echoing through the hall. "Not your lover. My wife."

Everyone froze.
The air shattered.
Gasps filled the room.

Every pair of eyes turned to him — stunned.
Mrs. Mehra's hand flew to her mouth.
Karan stepped back, disbelief flooding his face.
And Aanya... stood frozen, her heart pounding, tears slipping silently down her cheeks.

She didn't know what to feel — shock, pain, or joy.
Because for the first time... Ishaan had said it aloud.
He had claimed her — not in anger, not in cruelty, but in front of everyone.
In front of his family.

And that truth — that one sentence — had just set the entire Mehra household on fire.

Every heartbeat in the room seemed to stop the moment Ishaan's words fell — heavy, final, undeniable.

"She's my wife."

For a second, no one moved. Then—

"What... what did you just say?" Mrs. Sikha Mehra's voice trembled, her eyes wide with disbelief.
She looked between Ishaan and Aanya, her lips parting as if she couldn't even form the question.

Aanya stood pale, frozen, her hands trembling at her sides. Ishaan, still breathing heavily, refused to look away from Karan.

"I said she's my wife," Ishaan repeated — voice low, calm now, but every word carrying weight like thunder. "Aanya Mehra. My legally wedded wife."

The room erupted.

"WIFE?!" Mr. Mehra's voice boomed, shock cracking through the hall. "Ishaan! What are you saying?"

Mrs. Mehra stumbled a step forward, eyes brimming with disbelief.
"You married her?" she whispered, looking at Aanya — her tone not cruel, just stunned. "Without telling us? Without even informing your family?"

Silence.

Aanya's eyes filled, but she couldn't speak. She wanted to explain — but what could she say? That the marriage was forced? That Ishaan had dragged her into his revenge? Or that somewhere along the line, something had started to change?

Ishaan clenched his jaw, finally turning toward sikha.
"Yes,  sikhu Mom," he said quietly. "I married her."

Karan laughed bitterly — the sound sharp, raw.
"Married?!" he shouted. "You married Aanya? The girl I loved — your own brother's—"

"Enough, Karan!" Mr. Mehra barked.

But Karan wasn't listening. He looked straight at Aanya — pain and betrayal written across his face.
"So all this time... all this time you were his wife, Aanya? And you didn't tell me?"

Tears slid down Aanya's cheeks. Her voice broke when she finally spoke.
"I... I couldn't, Karan. I wanted to, but I—"

"You couldn't?" Karan snapped, cutting her off. "Or you didn't want to? You think I wouldn't have fought for you?!"

Ishaan's eyes darkened instantly.
"Watch your tone," he warned, his voice low and dangerous.

Karan glared at him. "Why? Afraid of the truth, Ishaan Mehra? You forced her into this, didn't you? You—"

"I said enough!" Ishaan roared, his control finally cracking. His shout echoed through the hall like a storm.

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Mrs. sikha looked between the two brothers — one furious, one heartbroken — and then at Aanya, standing there trembling and silent, her face streaked with tears.

Everyone's gaze was fixed on Ishaan — standing tall but visibly tense, his eyes dark and unreadable.

"Ishaan..." Sikha's voice softened, trembling with disbelief and confusion.
"You married her... without our blessing? Without telling anyone? When your mother was in a coma?"

Her words broke in the air like glass.

Ishaan's jaw tightened. Guilt flickered briefly in his eyes, but he forced his tone steady.
"Yes, sikhu Mom," he said quietly. "I knew exactly what I was doing."

Mr. Mehra's expression hardened, his voice serious, almost disappointed.
"Then why, Ishaan? What made you do this?"

Aanya closed her eyes, her heart hammering painfully. She already knew the answer — revenge, anger, grief. The ghosts of the past that still haunted the Mehra family.

But Ishaan didn't answer. He stood silent, looking away — his jaw clenched, emotions warring beneath his calm facade.

Karan let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head.
"Of course," he scoffed. "You didn't marry her out of love. You're hiding something, aren't you?"

Ishaan's silence was answer enough.

Mrs. Sikha stepped forward, her voice breaking with hurt.
"Ishaan... what have you done?" she asked softly. "You were supposed to marry your girlfriend — the one who ran away right before the wedding."

She hesitated, her tone uncertain.
"Was that... was that because of Aanya? Were you and Aanya involved before that? Tell me the truth."

"No—no, sikhu Mom!" Ishaan replied quickly, shaking his head. "It wasn't like that. There was nothing between us back then."

"Then why?" she demanded, her voice rising with desperation.

Ishaan took a slow breath, trying to control himself.
"I can't tell you everything right now," he said quietly. "Just know this — Aanya is my wife. Not a maid. Not a stranger. My wife."

Karan stepped forward, anger flashing in his eyes.
"Oh really? Then why did you keep her as a maid all this time?" he snapped.

Ishaan turned to him, his tone sharp, his control slipping.
"It's my personal matter, Karan. You don't need to know everything that happens in my life."

Karan laughed bitterly.
"Personal matter? You made your own wife live in your house as a maid! You hid your marriage from your entire family — and that's a personal matter?"

Ishaan's eyes narrowed.
"I'm not obligated to answer your every question. Do you understand?" he said coldly. "It's my life. I'll marry whoever I want."

"Yeah, you can marry whoever you want," Karan shot back, voice shaking with fury. "But my girl—"

"Mind your tongue, Karan Mehra!" Ishaan cut him off sharply, stepping closer, his tone deadly calm. "She's not your girlfriend anymore. She's my wife. Mrs. Aanya Ishaan Mehra."

The room fell deathly silent.

Mr. Mehra exhaled heavily, running a hand over his face. When he spoke, his tone was calm — but heavy with disappointment.
"Alright, Ishaan. You're right. It's your life, your choice. We can't control who you marry."
He paused, then added quietly, "But why did you hide it from us? Why lie to your own family?"

Ishaan looked down for a moment, his voice quieter now.
"I had my reasons," he said simply.

No one spoke. The silence stretched — thick and suffocating.

Aanya stood motionless in the middle of the room, tears slipping silently down her cheeks. She couldn't meet anyone's eyes.

Mrs. Sikha finally moved toward her. Gently, she reached out and took Aanya's trembling hand.

"Aanya," she said softly, her tone full of worry. "I need you to tell me the truth, beta. Did Ishaan force you into this marriage?"

Aanya's breath caught in her throat. Her eyes flickered toward Ishaan — he wasn't angry, not this time. Just...just like pleading through his eyes.  like His gaze silently begged her not to say anything.
Not to reveal the truth that could destroy what little peace remained. like he saying not to tell them truth they will start to hate you once they find out truth that who you are.

For a long moment, Aanya stood frozen between guilt and fear. Then, quietly, she shook her head.

"No," she whispered. "He didn't force me."

Mrs. Sikha sighed in relief, though confusion still lingered in her eyes.

"Then tell me," she asked gently, "did you marry him willingly?"

Aanya looked at Ishaan again. His eyes softened for the briefest moment — a silent connection neither could explain.

"Yes," Aanya said at last, her voice low but steady. "I married him willingly." she lied once again.

Mrs. Sikha looked between them — disbelief and sorrow crossing her face.
"Then why, Aanya? Why didn't you both tell anyone?"

Aanya lowered her gaze, tears glistening.
"We... we had our own reasons, aunty," she said softly.

The words hung in the air, fragile and heavy with secrets.
No one spoke after that.

Only silence — thick, tense, and echoing with everything left unsaid.
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Ahhh finally,  it happened , finally Ishaan accepted her —  his mrs mehra

30 chapters! Oh my God, it took Ishaan 30 whole chapters, but I think the wait was worth it, wasn’t it?

So guys, how was it? Did I rush things, or does it fit well with the plot?
Was Ishaan right in what he did?

Thank you for reading
Please vote and comment
Bye bye take care