Destined to Be Yours

The grand living room, adorned with opulent furniture and intricate chandeliers, seemed to amplify the simmering tension.

A woman sat on a high-backed chair, her expression hardened by frustration. Her fingers drummed against the armrest as her mind churned with thoughts.

"Shourya," she muttered, her voice dripping with disdain. "He's the reason everything is falling apart. Our plans are slipping out of control because of him!"He's destroying everything," she muttered bitterly.

She slammed her hand against the table, her fury now directed at the empty space before her. "We worked so hard, and now this arrogant fool is jeopardizing it all."

The door opened, and Mahendra walked in with a sly grin, his demeanor calm yet purposeful.

"Chandrika," he began, his voice measured and confident, "I have some good news for you."

Chandrika turned sharply, her curiosity piqued. "What is it?"

Mahendra took his time, enjoying the moment. "Shourya has married an ordinary, middle-class girl."

Chandrika froze, the words sinking in. Slowly, a smile spread across her face, her anger melting into satisfaction. Her eyes gleamed with cunning.

"Is this true?" she asked, stepping closer. "Tell me, Mahendra, is this really true?"

Mahendra nodded. "It's confirmed. He married someone completely beneath his status—no wealth, no influence. A nobody. That so-called perfect heir has tied himself to someone far below his status. A complete mismatch."

Chandrika laughed, the sound dripping with malice. "Oh, this is perfect! This is exactly the kind of leverage we need. Now, we can push our son to marry Vikram Malhotra's daughter, Meera. Once that happens…" She paused, her smile turning into a cunning grin. "…the entire property, the entire Malhotra empire, will be ours."

Mahendra chuckled. "And Shourya won't even see it coming."

Chandrika leaned back into her chair, her frustration replaced by triumph. "Finally, Mahendra, everything is falling into place."

In a modest middle-class home, Saanvi sat on the sofa, her arms crossed in playful annoyance. Across the room, Vasudha, Adhitya's mother, was peeling vegetables with practiced ease, her warm smile calming the younger woman.

"Sudha Amma," Saanvi began, her voice tinged with mock frustration, "I've been asking Adhitya for weeks to get me that spice rack. But does he ever listen? No!"

Vasudha chuckled, her tone patient and understanding. "Saanu, you know how your Adhitya is. He loves teasing you, but he never forgets. Give him time."

Saanvi sighed, flopping back against the cushions dramatically. "But Sudha Amma, he promised today! How much longer do I have to wait?"

Before Vasudha could respond, the front door swung open, and Adhitya walked in, his signature grin lighting up his face. A bag dangled in his hand as he surveyed the room.

"Why do I feel like I'm in trouble?" he teased, his eyes flicking to Saanvi.

She turned to him, her arms still crossed. "Adhitya! Don't tell me you forgot again."

Feigning shock, Adhitya placed a hand over his heart. "Forgot? Me? Do you think I'd dare to disappoint my beloved wife?"

He walked over and handed her the bag. Saanvi hesitated, her irritation melting away as she peeked inside. Her face lit up as she pulled out the sleek spice rack she'd been dreaming of.

"You actually remembered?" she asked, her voice softening as a smile crept onto her face.

Adhitya grinned, leaning closer. "Of course. How could I forget something so important to you?"

Vasudha, who had been quietly observing, spoke up with a knowing smile. "I told you, Saanvi. Your Adhitya might tease, but he always keeps his promises."

Saanvi turned to Vasudha, her tone filled with gratitude. "You're right, Sudha Amma. I don't know what I'd do without him—or you."

Adhitya, never one to miss a chance to tease, ruffled her hair playfully. "Don't get too emotional, Saanvi. You're stuck with me forever."

Saanvi swatted his hand away, laughing. "And you're stuck with me, Adhitya."

Two worlds, vastly different, hurtled toward a collision, each step guided by fate's unseen hand. Victory seemed within reach for one, but which one?

Only time would reveal the answer.