AUTHOR'S POV
Amaya came inside her house and looked around for everyone, but no one was present in the hall. The silence felt unusual, almost heavy, yet she didn't question it much.
She decided to first go to her room and then come back.
As she entered her room, she carefully placed the lilies in the vase near her dressing table, arranging them neatly along with the gajras. Their fragrance slowly filled the space, familiar and comforting. After that, she went to take a shower.
Her routine was simple, just like every other day.
She spent her mornings with Aleksander, and after that, she returned home to get ready for work. It was a pattern her life quietly followed.
She was a journalist.
She didn't work on a regular, fixed basis, but she worked for a well-known TV channel.
She didn't present the news herself; instead, she wrote for the person who appeared on screen. Her job was to gather information, research thoroughly, and work on detailed articles.
She was always inclined towards critical thinking. To her, finding information, connecting dots, and working almost like an agent felt like a fantasy come true. It gave her a sense of purpose.
She had always been drawn to books like The Diary of a Young Girl and Girl, Interrupted. Stories that stayed with her long after she finished reading them.
After half an hour, she came out of the bathroom wearing a long white frock with full sleeves. She left her hair open, letting it fall freely over her shoulders, and then started ascending the stairs.
When she reached the hall, her eyes fell upon her sister-in-law and her nephew sitting in the dining hall.
"Hey, baby," she said in a cheerful voice, looking at her nephew Yaram, and gently brushed her hand over his head.
"Come, sit. I'll serve you," her sister-in-law, Maham, said.
"It's not even dinner time. I'll eat with you and bhai."
She sat down beside Yaram. Her hand reached for the napkin stand placed in the middle of the table. She took one and started wiping Yaram's face, which was smudged with pasta.
"Have some pasta. I know you love it. Eat it in a smaller quantity so that you can eat dinner with us."
Maham moved to the side of the table to take the pasta bowl. While coming back towards them, she adjusted Yaram properly on his high chair.
"Bhabhi, where is bhai?"
Maham was serving her when her hand stopped midway. She looked at her with dim eyes, and the softness in them disappeared—but only for a brief moment.
"He is in his study room," she said quietly, her gaze shifting towards the study.
"He told me to come early, and now look at him, doing his work. Don't serve me. I'll first talk to him, and then we'll all eat together."
She stopped Maham by holding her hand, but Maham insisted that she eat something before going. Still, she walked away.
As she entered Ryan's study room, she was met with silence—not the regular kind, but something awkward and uncomfortable.
"Bhai," she yelled and walked around the table to stand behind his chair.
His chair was turned, with its back facing the door, and he was looking outside towards the pool area.
"See, I came. You told me to come early, and now you're here, busy with work."
She moved around his chair, and now he was facing her. He looked tense but didn't show it openly.
"Sit down, Amaya. I want to talk to you about something important," he said, gesturing towards the couch in front of his chair. She sat down.
"Wait, let me go and fetch some coffee, and then we'll talk like always."
She was about to stand up when he interrupted her.
"No need for that. Let's just talk."
Ryan said it in a slightly serious tone, which was unusual for him. Her brother rarely sounded this way, and that was exactly why she straightened up.
"Okay."
Her hands were sweating now as she sensed the tension in the air.
Something heavy pressed down on her, forcing her to lower her head.
"Who is Aleksander?"
His tone was calm—neither too soft nor too strict.
"Bhai…"
She had no words. She had been planning to tell her brother about him after he returned, but this sudden, unexpected question coming from him felt unsettling… almost scary.
"Tell me, Amaya. I just want to know if you are dating him or not. If whatever I got to know is the truth or not—and I hope it is a lie, Amaya."
He said it with hope in his voice, and Amaya found herself thinking whether she should tell him the truth or not.
She had never, even in her dreams, imagined telling her brother about Aleksander like this. She had wanted to convince him first and then let him meet Aleksander. But now, everything has turned upside down
It is said that one should not plan things in advance, because they rarely work the way you want them to.
Sometimes plans do work—but not every time—and it seems that Amaya had already reached her limit.
"Yes, bhai. I am dating Aleksander."
She said it with her head bowed down and her hands shaking. She couldn't lie; she hadn't been brought up that way. And she knew she had to tell him someday—if not today, then eventually.
Never in her twenty-four years of life had she lied to her brother—especially not to his face.
"Aleksander Dario?… The one who works for the mafia?"
Ryan's voice was serious now. He was still hoping that his sister would deny it, that she would tell him it was some other Aleksander. But deep down, he already knew the truth even before she said a word.
"J… ji, bhai."
She couldn't form more than two or three words.
It is often seen in typical Indian society that parents and brothers love their daughters and sisters deeply. But that love weakens the moment their daughters begin to love someone of their own choice.
Mothers hush their daughters, telling them never to do certain things—otherwise their father or brother will do this or that.
They are rarely encouraged to express their love openly, so instead of being guided toward a respectful marriage, they are silenced until a mistake is made.
Fear makes those daughters take steps that later become mistakes.
Instead of being made to understand, they are oppressed and kept in constant fear of what will happen to them if they do something like this—something as simple as loving someone.
It is we who instill so much fear in them that they start hiding things from us, and when we finally come to know the truth, we snap.
Generations change, and so do their traumas. Parents cannot force their children to marry someone of their own choice just because they themselves went through the same suffering.
Although Amaya had neither a mother nor a father, her aunts were enough to plant this fear deep inside her.
They always made sure she remained fearful of the men in the house—especially Ryan—even though Ryan had never once shown that side of himself.
Was it really true that Ryan was like other brothers, whose egos come in the way of their sister's love—who, instead of supporting her, would shout at her?
"Why didn't you tell me this?"
He left his chair, which rolled back slightly, and came to sit beside her.
He took her hands in his and spoke again.
"Tell me, Amaya. Don't hesitate. I am your brother, not a demon who will lash out at you."
He gave her hope. Her eyes filled with tears as they shone, and she hugged him.
Unable to control herself anymore, she poured everything out. Her confidence slowly grew stronger as she spoke.
"Bhai, I wanted to tell you this for so long, but you were busy, and Aleksander was also leaving, so I thought I would tell you after he returned"
"I knew whatever aunty said wasn't true. Why would you ever shout at me?"
She was speaking like a child now, safe in his embrace.
Since her childhood, she had only seen him.
Her mother, her father, and her brother.
He was her everything.
"What did she say?"
Now his entire attention was on her.
He looked at her in his arms the same way she used to be when she was a child.
"She told me not to get into any outside affairs. She said it was shameful—for you, and for the male members of the house—to lift their heads in the outside world if their sister or daughter was in an affair with someone. She told me that if you ever got to know about it, you would shout at me or stop my studies. It was my fourteenth birthday when you invited everyone."
She was sitting beside him now, her hand in his. Her eyes looked into his—slightly fearful, yet hopeful at the same time.
Ryan looked astonished at the piece of information he had just received. He had never imagined his aunts would play with his sister's mind, especially when she was just a child, still developing and understanding the world.
Words like these, spoken at such a fragile age, could disrupt a young mind forever.
"And you believed it?"
His voice was low. It hurt him to think that his sister saw him this way. He had never tried to force her or shout at her.
"I didn't… but then one of my friends in grade eleven went through the same thing, and her father stopped her studies. Her family loved her dearly. She was the only girl child in her family, but seeing this happen to her scared me."
His face fell with sadness as he listened to his sister. The words spoken to her had kept her disturbed even today.
"I would never do this to you. I respect your choice."
Amaya's face gleamed in the soft light coming from the table lamp on Ryan's study table. Her fingers tightened around his hand.
"I respect your choice, but I can't let you marry Aleksander. I don't want to be the typical male, but I have my reasons. I know you love him, but there are times when we end up loving the wrong person."
Amaya's hands went still. Her eyes widened slightly. Even the air around them felt frozen.
She had never thought her brother would say something like this.
"Bhai… how can you? You just told me you would never do something like this, and now you're denying me."
Her lips trembled, her hands shook, and she looked as if she was about to cry. To her, everything her aunts had once said was coming true.
"Hey… hey, listen to me."
Ryan cupped her face in his hands, trying to make her understand—trying to pull her away from the words she had been holding onto and the fears planted by others.
"Amaya, listen to me… sometimes the heart doesn't understand. You can love someone, and they can still be the wrong person for you.
That doesn't make your love a mistake; it just means you felt deeply—and that's nothing to be ashamed of.
But staying with someone who hurts you… that's where love turns into pain. When we try to pull you away, it's not because we want to control you; it's because we can't stand to see you break. You get that, right?"
It seemed as if he couldn't bear to see his sister in pain—especially when it was caused by his own words.
The door creaked open, and Maham walked in carrying a tray with two mugs in her hands. She stopped at the doorway, looking at Ryan as he held Amaya while she cried and spoke through broken words.
"He is not the wrong person. You don't know him. I've been with him for these past months. I know him more than you do."
Now she stood in front of him and spoke in a tone that wasn't harsh, but louder than before.
"He works for the mafia. There's no guarantee of his life. He kills and doesn't forgive anyone easily. I don't want you to risk your future for someone like him."
He stood up as well, clutching the edge of the table. He wasn't angry with her—he never got angry at his sister—but the way she was defending him shocked him.
"That is such a lame reason to reject him, bhai. Be mature and sensible. Just because he is in the mafia, you want me to leave him? A mafia man protects his family first. If he is a mafia, it means people will think twice before hurting his family."
To her this reason felt useless. how can she leave a person she loves just because of his profession.
when you love someone. you don't see his profession. you just look at the person and feel calm.
"Amaya, I'm not against your feelings… I'm against the danger that comes with him. You might see a different side of Aleksander, and maybe it's real — but it doesn't change the fact that his world is built on violence. People like him don't get to live peacefully, and neither do the ones they love. I just don't want you to pay for the choices he's made and you are talking about "Power gives them protection, yes. But power also paints a target on their backs. Even if mafia families are the most protected, they're the most destroyed, because every protection is born out of a threat. They live waiting for the next bullet, the next betrayal, the next body to fall. That's not protection, Amaya — that's just surviving."
Her breathing wasn't normal. She was listening to her brother but not really understanding him. Her mind kept drifting back to the moment she had told Aleksander that they would talk things out with her brother when he returned.
It was probably good that she hadn't—what if he had said all of this right to her face?
"I don't care. All I know is that I am not leaving him. You married Maham bhabhi because you love her. Aapne bhi toh apni love marriage ki thi. You should understand what love feels like. Main usse sach mein pyaar karti hoon… he loves me for who I am, even my flaws."
(You also had a love marriage. I really love him)
"Bachche, main samajhta hoon. But you have to listen to me too. I can't just stand by and watch you walk into a fire. Just because you love him doesn't mean he loves you back. Men like him-they lie, they manipulate. You can't trust someone like that, Amaya."
(My girl, i understand)
In all this they forget someone is also standing there. maham gripped the edge of the door and thought about the same happened to her before her marriage. she fought hard and came all this way. it looked like everything happened to her was replaying but with different people
Different characters
Different roles.
Ryan looked at his sister—at the innocence still left in her, the softness that hadn't yet been stolen by the world.
There was love in his eyes, but also a weight she couldn't name. He took a slow breath before speaking, his voice low but steady.
"I'm not saying he doesn't love you, Amaya. Maybe he does. But love doesn't change the world he comes from. And I don't want that world swallowing you whole just because you saw light in him."
Amaya said nothing. Deep down, for a moment, she thought that maybe he was right—but she quickly dismissed it, because for her, Aleksander mattered. His love mattered.
She loved her brother, but she couldn't leave Aleksander either.
"I won't do this. I can't do this."
She said it with finality in her voice, her sobering up evident.
"I won't let you do this. I have someone for you to marry. He is a decent man and respectful. He lives a normal life—a life you deserve."
Maham came and stood beside Ryan, trying to stop him, but he continued anyway.
"He is Rafique, one of my employees. He will keep you happy. I have arranged a small ceremony tomorrow. You will marry him tomorrow."
For a moment, Amaya thought she had misheard him.
Her ears rang—as if the room had suddenly collapsed into silence.
"What…?" she whispered, the word barely escaping her throat.
Ryan's voice stayed calm, almost mechanical. "You will marry him."
Marry him.
The words didn't feel real—they didn't even sound like him.
Her brother's voice, the one that had always promised to protect her, now sounded like a stranger's verdict.
Her eyes darted between his expressionless face and the floor, searching for something—maybe a hint of hesitation, a sign that he was joking, that this was just another one of his cruel ways to scare her. But there was nothing.
Only that chilling calm.
Her heartbeat pounded against her ribs, fast and uneven.
Marry him?
Tomorrow?
It felt as if her body had forgotten how to breathe.
Every word that could have fought back—died before reaching her lips.
"Bhai… please tell me you're not serious," she finally managed to say, her voice trembling, small.
But his silence said everything.
In that moment, Amaya realized—protection had turned into control.
Her life was no longer her own.
But for her brother, it wasn't control.
He wanted what was best for her. You could only tell someone what's good for them—you couldn't force it.
He only wanted her to have a happy life—but who lives peacefully when there is love? A normal life, not a life lived on edge. A life where she wouldn't have to run away at the slightest inconvenience.
Protection always comes with sacrifices, and Ryan was sacrificing her love for what he believed was her protection.
Her brother had always been her shield. With distant, indifferent parents, he had been her entire world. But now, that world was turning its back on her.
"I'm doing this for your own good," he said, his fists clenched. "If you don't marry the man I've chosen for you, then consider me dead. Don't ever look at my face again."
"Bhai… please. Try to see this from my side too. How can I marry someone I don't love? It's like smiling while burning alive."
His heart broke a little more with every word. If only he knew she was meeting Aleksander, he would have stopped her.
But now, desperate to keep her safe, he had arranged her marriage with someone he knew—his employee, a man who had shown interest in Amaya.
Without waiting, he had fixed the wedding. Tomorrow.
A simple ceremony. Nothing extravagant. Just rituals. Just a contract. Just safety.
And tonight… had led to this painful argument.
"Be ready by tomorrow evening. Just remember—I'll always be with you."
Time tests you in everything—be it a courier or a relationship—and in that moment, Amaya thought her brother had failed her.
All the words she had heard over the years came crashing down on her.
"At last, he is a male. He won't tolerate you whoring yourself around and tarnishing his self-respect. Brother or not."
"You may feel bad, but whatever he does will be best for you."
"Just accept what he says, and always remember my words. You say your brother won't be like this. He has Ilyas's blood in his veins. What Ilyas did to us will repeat in his daughter's case. Time repeats itself, and you will see it."
It felt like what had happened to her aunt was repeating itself, as if they had cursed her for being their brother's daughter.
Amaya felt something inside her break—not because of her own pain, but because she now understood that her aunt had once stood in the same place. And yet, it wasn't her fault.
It wasn't just her fight; it was a cycle, old as their family name.
Whatever happens in the family should remain between them. Children should not be dragged into it. It affects their minds, and more than that—it stays with them.
Just like Amaya, something once told to her had felt like a curse given by her aunt. As if they had been waiting for her turn, and now they would be happy hearing it unfold.
Ryan left the room with Maham following him, leaving Amaya alone with her thoughts. We feel so sad when a plan is disrupted—and here, her whole life had been turned upside down.
Inside his room, Ryan sank to the floor, his face wet with tears.
"No sister should have a brother like me. I can't protect her. I couldn't protect her. I broke her heart. I made these decisions only for her, but now… looking back, everything feels wrong. I may not be part of the mafia, but I know how to play this game.
War means destruction.
And with Aleksander… it wouldn't just be bullets—it would be madness."
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WORD COUNT: 3.5K
HEY EVERYONE
THIS IS YOUR AUTHOR ROXANNE BACK WITH ANOTHER CHAPTER.
I am thinking of continuing publishing the chapter daily or publishing 3-4chapters in a week. Let's see how it goes.
I am still deciding on this.
My books will contains alot of content about women. Their hardships and how they deal with it.
I added a topic in this book too. You will get alot of information here besides the storyline because a book is not only about romantic relationships.
I will share my opinion about those certain topics in my book and tell you my point of view and yeah everyone is free to give there opinion too.
In this chapter I talked about a topic which most of the girls face. So don't take it as a boring chapter but instead try to learn and if you relate to it then comment down your POV'S.
I will be discussing the solution or you can say "how a girl should overcome this type of situation" later in the book.
So stay tuned and come with me on this beautiful journey and don't hate Ryan. He is a normal businessman so he is terrified of what will happen to his sister in a mafia world. They are normal people with normal lives.
Ignore the grammatical mistakes and forgive me for that because I m new to this and yeah english is not my first language.
Thnx.