Ananya woke to a heavy, warm weight pressing against her chest. Her eyes opened slowly, the morning light filtered through the curtains, but she couldn't remember when sleep had finally claimed her.

She looked down, and her heart skipped. Vikram was snuggled deep into her chest, his rhythmic breath striking her bare skin with a heat that made her pulse race.

Her legs were trapped firmly between his, and his arms were tightened around her waist like a lifeline. He looked so different now replaced by a man sleeping with a peace she had never seen on his face.

Her chest was bare, her petticoat the only thing she wore, and Vikram was using her heart as his pillow.

She glanced at the wall clock: 6:00 AM. They had skipped dinner yesterday, lost in each other. She tried to untangle herself, slowly sliding her leg out, but the moment she moved, Vikram groaned low in his throat and tightened his grip, snuggling even deeper. As she reached for his hand to move it, his lips found her nipple in his sleep. He started sucking slowly, a natural, primal instinct even in his slumber.

Ananya gasped, her whole body trembling. "Ahhmm..." she moaned, her nails digging into his shoulders. "Vikrammm..." she whispered, trying to wake him, but the more she tried to pull away, the harder he sucked. She arched her body into him, the sensation dragging a whimper from her throat.

Finally, she stopped fighting. She surrendered. She slowly pulled the blanket over both of them, covering Vikram's face until they were in a dark, warm cocoon. Inside that hidden space, she clutched his neck and surrendered to the sensation until she drifted back into a daze of sleep.

____________

Meanwhile, at the Ramineni mansion, Raghava sat in his daily chair, snap-folding his newspaper. In the kitchen, Arun and Kavya were hiding behind the pillar, pushing Sitadevi forward.

Sita walked toward Raghava. Every day, she placed the coffee glass directly in his hand. This time, as Raghava reached out, she simply set the glass on the table and walked away without a single glance. Raghava's hand hung in the air, his face falling in disappointment.

"Plan is working," Arun whispered. Kavya nodded, grinning.

It didn't stop there. Usually, Sita laid out his outfit on the bed. When Raghava came out of the bath, the bed was empty. He sighed, a hollow feeling growing in his chest. "What happened to her today?"

At the dining table, surya was waiting for her father. Sita was nowhere to be seen. Raghava sat down, but his eyes kept darting toward the kitchen and the hallway, searching for Sita. Surya looked at her father and noticed how he was restlessly looking for Sita's presence. A small, knowing smile touched her lips. She didn't say a word to comfort him or explain where Sita was. She simply served his breakfast in silence and walked away,Raghava ate, but the food tasted like ash. The silent treatment was hurting him more than any argument ever could.

________

Ananya woke again, her stomach growling loudly. Vikram was gone. She realized she was wearing his oversized white shirt, the fabric smelling of him. She smiled, freshened up, and tied her hair in a messy bun. After applying her Vermillion, she walked toward the kitchen.

She froze at the door. Vikram was cooking. He was shirtless, his back muscles rippling as he moved with passionate focus.

"Intha andhamga unnav entra babu..." (How are you this handsome, man...) she whispered shamelessly.

"Choosindhi chalu ila raa," Vikram said, his voice rough and calm without even turning around. (Enough watching, come here,)

Ananya startled. "Nenu ikkada unnanu ani ela thelisindhi eeyanaki?" (How did he know I was here?) She walked over and looked at the pot vikram was adding chopped vegetables.

"Upma?" she whined, wrinkling her nose.

Vikram leaned in and kissed her cheek, then caught her waist, lifting her to sit on the counter. Ananya gasped. "You have to eat that Upma, Anu. I added so many vegetables it's healthy."

He handed her a glass of milk, ensuring it was the perfect temperature. When she shook her head, he gave her a warning glare.

"Mavayya ekkada?" she asked, sipping her milk.

"Nanna urgent business work kosam Mumbai vellaru," Vikram replied.

As she finished, a small smudge of milk cream remained on her lip. Vikram parted her legs, stepping deep into the space between them. He stood between her parted legs, his bare, muscular chest inches from her face. The scent of sandalwood and the faint aroma of the ghee from the Upma mingled with the raw, masculine scent that was uniquely his.

As he reached out to wipe the milk cream from her upper lip, his thumb didn't just move away. It lingered. He traced the curve of her mouth with a slow, agonizing pressure that made her breath hitch. His eyes, usually sharp and cold were now dark, clouded with a hunger that had nothing to do with breakfast.. "So, let me eat my breakfast," he said intimately.

Ananya tried to slide down, her hands fumbling for the edge of the counter to find her balance, but Vikram's hands were like iron. He caught her by the waist, his large palms spanning nearly the entire width of her hips. In one swift, effortless motion, he pulled her forward. Ananya gasped and instinctively, she wrapped her legs tightly around his waist.

It was the most intimate position they had ever been in.

Ananya's breath left her completely. With her legs locked around him, she was pulled flush against his shirtless frame. The thin fabric of her Kurtiset was the only thing between her soft skin and the hard, sculpted lines of his bare chest and stomach. She could feel every muscle, every heartbeat. To Ananya, it felt like she was being swallowed by his heat. A dizzying mix of safety and dangerous desire swirled in her stomach—she felt small, protected, yet utterly consumed by him.

Where do you think you're going?" he rasped, his hands sliding from her waist to her lower back, pressing her even closer until there wasn't a breath of air between them.

"You... said breakfast," she managed to stammer and looked at upma he cooked, her voice trembling as much as her body.

"I didn't mean that," he muttered. He leaned in, his nose grazing hers, his breath hot and uneven. He started with a soft, teasing trail of kisses along her jawline, his lips barely touching her skin, yet leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

Then, he finally claimed her mouth.

It wasn't a gentle kiss. It was a possession. He slanted his lips over hers, drinking in her small gasp. The kiss was deep and relentless, his tongue exploring every corner of her mouth with a desperate, starved energy. Ananya felt her control shattering. Her hands, which had been resting tentatively on his chest, flew up to his shoulders, her nails digging into the hard muscle as she pulled him closer, wanting to merge into him.

Then, he finally claimed her mouth.

It wasn't a gentle kiss. It was a possession. He slanted his lips over hers, drinking in her small gasp. The kiss was deep and relentless, his tongue exploring every corner of her mouth with a desperate, starved energy.

Ananya felt her control shattering. Her hands, which had been resting tentatively on his chest, flew up to his shoulders, her nails digging into the hard muscle as she pulled him closer, wanting to merge into him.

He groaned into her mouth, the sound primal and deep, vibrating through her entire body. He shifted his grip, one hand tangling in her messy bun, pulling her head back to gain better access, while the other hand slid lower, pressing her lower back so tightly against him that she could feel the frantic thud of his own heart.

He moved from her lips to the sensitive hollow of her neck. He didn't just kiss; he sucked and bit, his teeth grazing her skin in a way that made her head fall back, her moans filling the quiet kitchen.

"Vikram... mmm..." she whimpered, her body arching into his.

He was like a man possessed, worshipping the column of her throat, leaving dark hickeys that told the world she belonged to him. Each time he bit, he followed it with a soothing lick of his tongue, a torture that was both wicked and sweet. The kitchen, the house, the outside world—it all dissolved. There was only the sound of their ragged breathing and the electric heat of their skin touching.

Only the sudden, loud growl of Ananya's stomach broke the spell. Vikram pulled back just an inch, his lips still hovering over her swollen ones.

Vikram didn't let her go. Ananya remained wrapped around him, her face buried in the crook of his neck, hiding her flaming cheeks. She felt his chest vibrate with a low, satisfied chuckle as he walked, his strong arms acting like a throne beneath her.

He carried her out of the kitchen and into the dining area, with Ananya clinging to him like a baby monkey, her small hands fisted in his hair, refusing to look up.

He gently placed her on the edge of the dining table, his hands lingering on her waist for a moment to ensure she was steady. The cool air of the room hit her skin, making her miss his heat instantly. Vikram turned back to the kitchen and brought over a steaming plate of Upma.

The aroma hit her immediately—the rich, nutty scent of pure ghee, the toasted smell of semolina, and the fragrance of fresh curry leaves. It looked beautiful, glistening under the morning light and generously topped with golden-brown, crunchy cashews.

Vikram pulled his chair right up against hers, so close that their knees were still brushing. He picked up the spoon, blew on it gently to cool it down, and held it to her lips.

Uhmmmmm..." she moaned softly, savoring the taste. "Pappu garu, meeru chef andi! Upma kuda intha tasty ga cheyyachu ani naku ippude thelisindhi!" (Pappu garu, you are a chef! I only just realized that even Upma could be made this tasty!)

Vikram watched her with a soft, possessive smile as he prepared another spoonful. "I'm better at other things, too" he teased, his voice dropping into that husky register that made her heart skip.

Ananya blushed a deep pink, but she didn't look away this time. She took the spoon from his hand and scooped up a bit, making sure to include a large cashew, and held it to his mouth.

"Abbo, wife duties aah?" Vikram asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.

"Yes! Mee bujji pottani kuda nimpali kadha pati parmeshwara," (Yes! I have to fill your little stomach too, oh husband-god,) she chirped with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Vikram chuckled at the name, a sound of pure, unadulterated happiness. He took the bite from her hand, his eyes never leaving hers. In that quiet morning, as they sat in their own little bubble, feeding each other and sharing small smiles, the rest of the world—the family drama, the station, and the secrets—felt a million miles away. It was a moment of perfect, peaceful belonging.

___________

Later at night, Raghava waited for sita.The bedroom was suffocatingly quiet. For the first time in forty years, the room felt like a battlefield rather than a sanctuary.

Raghava lay on his side of the bed, his heart heavy with the events of the day. He had been ignored, bypassed, and treated like a stranger in his own home. He looked at the empty space on the bed until Sitadevi finally walked in.

She didn't look at him. She didn't ask if he needed water. She simply walked to her side, lay down, and turned her back to him, pulling the covers up like a stone wall between them.

"Sita," Raghava called out, his voice sounding thinner than usual.

Silence.

"Sita," he called again, a bit more desperately. "Atleast talk to me. Why are you ignoring me? What have I done so wrong that you won't even look at me?"

Sita didn't move for a long moment. Then, slowly, she sat up. The moonlight hit her face, revealing the tracks of tears that had been falling in the dark.

"Ananya ki pelli kudirchindhi meere kadha?" (You were the one who fixed Ananya's marriage, weren't you?) she asked, her voice trembling with a mix of exhaustion and fury.

Raghava sighed, shifting to sit up as well. "Avunu, ayina adhi endhuku ippudu? Jarigedhi edo jarigipoindi kadha?" (Yes, but why bring that up now? What happened, happened, right?)

"Thanani adigara?" Sita snapped, her eyes flashing."Okka sari ayina ammayi dhaggariki velli... 'Ananya, neeku ee sambandham ishtama ledha' ani adigara? "

(Did you ask her? Did you go to her even once and ask, 'Ananya, do you like this match or not?')

Raghava shook his head, looking away. " Adhi manchi sambandham anukunnanu. Vadu manchi vadu, mana kallamundhare ammayi untundhi, manchi jeevitham dorukuthundhi ane uddhesam tho chesanu."

( I thought it was a good match. He was a good guy, the girl would be before our eyes, she'd have a good life... that was my only intention.)

"Ananya ki Vikram ante ishtam,"Sita said, her voice dropping to a painful whisper.

"Devudi dhaya valla ee pelli aagipoyindhi. Ledhu ante... okavela aa pelli jarigipoyi unte, thana jeevitham em ayyedhi andi?"

(Ananya loves Vikram. By God's grace, this wedding stopped. Otherwise... what would have happened to her life?)

Raghava opened his mouth to defend himself, but Sita didn't stop. This was twenty-eight years of bottled-up pain coming out.

"Raghu vishyam lo kuda idhe jarigindhi andi," she said, the mention of their exiled son making Raghava's entire body stiffen.

"Appudu kuda meeru asalu vadiki cheppakunda pelli nishchayisthe... vadu em chesthadu? Vadu em cheyagaladu?"

(The same thing happened with Raghu. Back then too, when you fixed his marriage without telling him... what was he supposed to do?)

Raghava's pride flared up like a dying flame. "Vadu naku cheppali kadha! 'Nanna naku ee pelli ishtam Ledhu' ani okka mata naku cheppi unte..." (He should have told me! If he had said just one word, 'Dad, I don't like this marriage'...)

"Adhi vadu chesina thappu ae andi, nenu kaadhu analedhu,"Sita cried, her voice breaking. "Kani vadu dhaniki kshamapana cheppadu kadha? Kaallu pattukuni edchadu kadha? Meeru asalu vadu cheppe okka mata ayina vinnara?"

(That was his mistake, I'm not saying no. But he asked for forgiveness, didn't he? He cried at your feet! Did you listen to a single word he had to say? Or did you just put your ego first and throw my son out?)

Sita couldn't speak anymore. The sob she had been holding back finally broke through. She turned away, lying back down and burying her face in the pillow to stifle her weeping.

Raghava sat frozen. He looked at her shaking shoulders, then slowly lay back down on the other side. He stared up at the ceiling, the darkness of the room feeling heavier than ever. For the first time, the silence wasn't a weapon he was using—it was a mirror showing him the lonely, bitter man he had become.

Hey guys......

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