Ishita's Perspective

I stood behind the massive double doors of the banquet hall, my fingers trembling as they clutched the heavy fabric of my gown. My heart was thumping so loudly I could hear it in my ears, but as the first notes of the music began to swell, my mind drifted back to that evening in my studio a week ago.

I remembered the way he had stood behind me, his **6'3" muscular frame** making me feel so small and protected. I had turned around, my face glowing with excitement, and asked, *"How do I look, Ru?"*

He didn't answer with words at first. He had stepped into my space, his **ocean blue eyes** burning with an intensity that always made my breath hitch. He leaned down and pressed a long, lingering kiss to my forehead. Then, in a voice that was a low, rough whisper, he had asked:

*"Kya reh logi mere saath? Zindagi bhar ke liye? Bina dare?"* (Will you stay with me? For a lifetime? Without fear?)

I had teased him then, hiding my fluttering heart behind a playful smirk. I had touched his jaw and whispered, *"Iska jawab engagement wale din dungi."* (I’ll give you the answer on the engagement day.)

The memory faded as the doors finally groaned open. A path of rose petals lay before me, and there he was—standing at the far end of the hall, looking like a King in grey. The world around me blurred. The hundreds of guests, the flashing cameras, the scent of expensive lilies—it all disappeared. There was only him.

The song I had chosen specifically for this moment—for *him*—began to echo through the hall. My voice wasn't singing, but my heart was screaming every word of the lyrics as I started my slow walk down the stairs.

> **Jogiya ve jogiya ve jogiya**

> **Tu hi mannat tu hi Jannat, Tu khuda sajjana...**

With every step, I looked directly into his eyes, telling him that he was my prayer and my paradise. I saw his jaw tighten, his gaze locked on mine with a hunger that made my skin tingle. He looked stunned, his "Ice King" mask crumbling in real-time as he realized I was finally giving him his answer.

> **Tere nal main poori aa, Tere bina adhoori aa**

> **Mainu jiyonda rehan lyi, Ve tera Sath jaroori aa**

I reached the bottom of the stairs, my **silver payal** tinkling with every movement, punctuating the rhythm of the song. I was telling him—and the whole world—that I was incomplete without him. That to stay alive, I needed him by my side. I saw **Rudra’s** chest heave as he took a deep breath, his eyes never wavering from my face.

> **Main tere nal nal nal rehna jogiya...**

As the chorus hit, I was halfway down the aisle. I saw **Krishiv and Chavvi** smiling from the front row, but I couldn't look away from Rudra. I wanted him to see the certainty in my eyes. I wanted him to know that the "middle-class dreamer" was ready to walk through fire for the "Prince of Rajasthan."

> **Tere nal hasna e tere nal vasna e**

> **Zindgi di tere hath dor...**

I was finally at the foot of the stage. He reached out his hand—that large, powerful hand—to help me up. As my small, henna-clad fingers touched his fair skin, an electric shock surged through me. I stepped up onto the stage, standing flush against his **muscular** frame.

The lyrics reached the part about "Navi suruat" (a new beginning), and I felt a tear of pure joy prick my eye. I had reached him. I had given him my answer. I was here to stay.

I leaned in just enough so only he could hear me over the fading music. "I’m not going anywhere, Ru. I’m staying with you forever. That’s my answer."

I saw a rare, beautiful glint of emotion in his blue eyes, but before he could pull me into his arms, I noticed he was looking past me toward the entrance with a strange, knowing smirk.

"I'm glad you're staying, Ishi," he whispered, his voice thick with a secret. "Because you're going to need someone to hold onto for what happens next."

👑 Rudra's Perspective

I stood at the edge of the stage, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird—a feeling I hadn't experienced in all my years of cold, calculated business deals. The doors opened, and there she was.

My **ocean blue eyes** must have widened, because for the first time in my life, I forgot how to breathe. **Ishita** was a vision in burnt orange and gold, a goddess carved from the very sunlight of Rajasthan. As the first notes of *Jogiya* filled the hall, her eyes locked onto mine, and the rest of the world—the five hundred guests, the flashing cameras, even Krishiv standing beside me—simply ceased to exist.

> **Jogiya ve jogiya ve jogiya... Tu khuda sajjana...**

She walked with a grace that was lethal, her **silver payal** singing a melody that matched the song. Every word she sang with her eyes was a dagger through my "Ice King" exterior. She was calling me her heaven, her prayer. Me? A man who had spent thirty years believing in nothing but profit and power. But looking at her, I believed in everything.

> **Mainu jiyonda rehan lyi, Ve tera Sath jaroori aa...**

My jaw tightened. I felt a lump form in my throat that I had to swallow back. She was telling me she needed me to stay alive, but the truth was, I was the one who had been a walking corpse before she fell into my arms at that temple. I watched the way the light caught her **brown skin**, the way her **long curly hair** bounced with every step. I wanted to leap off the stage and carry her the rest of the way, but I was frozen by the sheer purity of her answer.

> **Tere nal hasna e tere nal vasna e, Zindgi di tere hath dor...**

She reached the foot of the stage, and as she sang about handing the strings of her life to me, I felt the weight of that responsibility settle on my shoulders. It wasn't a burden; it was the greatest honor I’d ever been given. I reached out my hand, my fingers trembling ever so slightly—a detail I’d never admit to anyone—and felt her small, warm palm slide into mine.

I pulled her up beside me. The scent of jasmine and expensive silk enveloped me. She was so close now that I could see the slight shimmer of tears in her **brown eyes**.

"I’m staying with you forever," she whispered, her voice a soft caress against the music. "That’s my answer."

My grip on her hand tightened, my thumb tracing the **mehndi** on her skin. I leaned down, my lips inches from her ear, my voice a dark, possessive rumble. "You have no idea what you've just done, **Jaana**. You just signed away your soul to a man who will never, ever let you go."

The song was reaching its crescendo, the lyrics speaking of a *Pak Rishta*—a pure bond. I looked at her, my **6'3" muscular frame** shielding her from the prying eyes of the crowd. I wanted to kiss her right there, to claim her in front of everyone, but I remembered the surprise waiting in the wings.

She looked so happy, so complete, but I knew there was still a tiny, jagged hole in her heart. I looked toward the back of the hall, catching **Laksh’s** eye. He nodded. The moment was here.

"Ishi," I murmured, my hand sliding to the small of her back, pulling her even closer so she could feel the steady, thumping heartbeat she owned. "You gave me the answer I’ve been waiting for. Now, let me give you the one thing you thought was gone forever."

I signaled to the sound engineer. The romantic music didn't stop, but the lights in the hall began to dim, leaving only a single, warm spotlight focused on the grand entrance.

Ishita frowned, her brow furrowing in confusion as she looked up at me. "Ru? What are you doing?"

"Shhh," I whispered, turning her around so she was facing the aisle she had just walked down. "Just watch, my little dreamer."

💖 Ishita's Perspective

I stood there, my hand tightly fisting Rudra’s fingers as the world around us suddenly plunged into darkness. A gasp rippled through the hundreds of guests, and for a second, my heart hammered against my ribs in fear. Was it another attack? Was I being taken again?

But then, two sharp, brilliant spotlights cut through the blackness. One was fixed on us, pinning me against Rudra’s **muscular** frame, and the other... the other was aimed directly at the grand entrance.

The heavy doors groaned open.

At first, I could only see a silhouette against the bright hallway light. My breath hitched, my lungs feeling like they were collapsing. The figure took a step forward, then another. It was a girl, draped in an elegant emerald green suit. She kept her head down, her shoulders shaking, but then... she looked up.

The world stopped. My heart didn't just skip a beat; it felt like it shattered and remade itself in a split second.

"Shifa?" I breathed, the name barely a whisper, yet it felt like a scream in the silent hall.

I froze. My legs felt like lead, and my grip on Rudra’s hand became a lifeline. It was her. My soul sister. The girl I had mourned for three years. She was walking toward the stage, her face pale, her **tears falling** in thick, silent streams that ruined her perfect makeup.

Behind her, I saw her husband, Zaid, and their young son standing to the side, looking on with somber expressions. I glanced at the front row—Aditi, Muskan, and Prachi were all standing up, their faces twisted in absolute shock, hands over their mouths. None of us knew. None of us expected this.

I looked up at Rudra, my vision blurred by the hot tears that were now cascading down my **brown skin**. He didn't look surprised. He looked... proud. His **ocean blue eyes** were soft, and he began to **rub my back softly**, his large hand a steady, warm presence that kept me from collapsing.

"Go to her, Ishi," he murmured, his voice thick with a tenderness that made my heart ache.

Shifa reached the stage. She didn't wait for me to speak. She didn't wait for an explanation. She lunged forward, and I met her halfway.

We collided in a hug that felt like two halves of a broken soul finally snapping back together. I buried my face in her shoulder, my **long curly hair** tangling with her veil, and **I cried harder** than I ever have in my life. It was a raw, ugly, beautiful sob of relief. All the pain of the last three years, the loneliness, the feeling of being misunderstood—it all poured out.

"I'm sorry," she was sobbing into my ear, her voice broken. "I'm so sorry, Ishu. I was so blind. I'm sorry."

I couldn't even find my voice to tell her it was okay. I just held her tighter, my fingers digging into her sleeves. I felt Rudra step back slightly, giving us our moment, but I could still feel his protective gaze on me.

He had done this. The "Ice King" who didn't believe in God or love had gone across an ocean to find the one thing I needed most. He hadn't just bought me a diamond; he had bought back my history.

I was crying so hard my chest hurt, but as **Shifa** kept whispering apologies into my ear, her voice trembling with regret, a sense of peace finally started to settle over me. I pulled back just an inch, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand, and looked at her.

Even through the tears, she looked beautiful, but her eyeliner was starting to smudge. I let out a shaky, watery laugh and sniffled. "**Bas kar, Shifa... tera makeup kharab ho jayega,**" (Stop it... your makeup will get ruined.)

She let out a choked laugh, half-sobbing as she wiped her own cheek. "**Tera bhi,**" (Yours too,) she countered, her voice thick with emotion.

I smiled, a real, beaming smile that felt like the sun breaking through a three-year-old storm. "**Nahi, mera waterproof hai,**" (No, mine is waterproof.)

The tension in the grand hall snapped instantly. A wave of laughter rippled through the guests—**Aditi, Muskan, and Prachi** were laughing through their tears, and even the stern elders in the front row were smiling. It was such an "Ishita" thing to say in the middle of a life-changing drama.

We laughed together and **hugged again**, tighter this time, the kind of hug that says *we aren't letting go ever again*.

But as I held her, my eyes drifted to the man standing just a few feet away. **Rudra**.

He was standing there with his hands tucked into the pockets of his midnight blue sherwani, his **6'3" muscular frame** radiating a quiet, powerful satisfaction. He wasn't smiling widely, but his **ocean blue eyes** were glowing with a warmth I knew was reserved only for me. He had orchestrated this entire miracle just to see me happy.

I let go of Shifa and turned to him. I didn't care about the cameras, the five hundred elite guests, or the "modesty" my aunties expected. I lunged at him, throwing my arms around his neck and burying my face in the crook of his shoulder.

I **hugged Rudra tightly**, my fingers digging into the velvet of his suit. "**I love you... I love you so much,**" I sobbed against his skin, my voice muffled but filled with every ounce of my soul.

I felt his arms wrap around me instantly, pulling me flush against his hard chest, his chin resting on top of my head. He held me like I was the most precious jewel in his entire empire.

"**I know, Jaana,**" he whispered, his deep voice vibrating through my whole body. "I told you... I don't play fair when it comes to your happiness."

I pulled back just enough to look up at him, my **brown eyes** shimmering. "How? When did you... why?"

"Because you were sad at the jewelry store," he said simply, as if flying to Dubai and threatening people was just a normal Tuesday task. "And I don't allow my Queen to be sad on her engagement day."

Behind us, I heard a loud, familiar whistle. I turned to see **Krishiv** leaning against a pillar, smirking. "Okay, Rathore, enough with the 'Hero' entry. Some of us have been standing here for an hour. Can we put the rings on already so we can eat?"

**Chavvi** hit his arm playfully, but she was beaming at us. "Let them have their moment, Krishiv!"

Rudra looked at Krishiv, then back at me, a **shameless** smirk finally appearing on his handsome face. "He's right for once. I've waited long enough to put my mark on you, Ishi."

👑 Rudra's Perspective

The moment Kriti, Ishita’s younger cousin, walked onto the stage with the velvet tray, the air felt electric. Two rings sat there—one, the massive blue diamond I had fought for; the other, the platinum band with the 'I' initial she had chosen to mark me as hers.

I picked up her ring, the weight of it feeling like a promise. I looked at Ishita, her face still flushed from the reunion with Shifa, her **brown eyes** glowing with a happiness that made all my efforts worth it.

I leaned in, a **shameless** smirk dancing on my lips. "Ready, Jaana? No running away now," I teased, my voice a low rumble meant only for her.

She smiled, a radiant, confident expression that stole my breath. "Of course, Ru. I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be."

I didn’t just take her hand. I did something that made the entire hall go silent for a split second before erupting into chaos. I stepped back and **dropped to one knee**.

Ishita **gasped**, her hands flying to her mouth. A deep, beautiful **blush** crept up her neck and onto her cheeks. Behind us, I heard the collective intake of breath from my family.

My mother (**Maa**), **Papa**, and **Bebe** were standing in the front row, their eyes wide with disbelief. My brothers, **Akshat** and **Vardaan**, exchanged shocked glances—their "cold, heartless" brother, the Prince of Rajasthan, was kneeling in front of a girl in front of five hundred people. Their wives, **Dhristi** and **Reet**, were already clapping, and my younger siblings, **Jay and Ahana**, were whistling loudly.

I didn't care. To the world, I was a Top 5 businessman. To this girl, I was just Rudra.

"Ishita Sharma," I said, my voice echoing with a raw power and a newfound softness. "You didn't just walk into my life; you crashed into it and rebuilt it from the ruins. You are my heart, my sanity, and my soul. I promise to protect your dreams as fiercely as I protect my empire."

I slid the **8-carat blue diamond** onto her finger. It fit perfectly, a crown for the woman who now ruled me.

Her ring

The crowd went wild. **Flowers began to fall** from the ceiling—thousands of rose petals cascading over us like a blessing from the heavens. The cheers were deafening, led by my brothers who were now shouting my name, their shock turning into pure pride.

I stood up, still holding her hand, and looked down at her. She looked like a dream amidst the falling petals.

"Your turn, Princess," I whispered, holding out my hand so she could slide the platinum 'I' onto my finger and officially claim the Ice King.

💖 Ishita’s Perspective

I looked at the heavy platinum band glinting in the tray, the tiny, elegant **'I'** etched into the metal. My heart was doing somersaults. I picked it up with trembling fingers, my gaze flickering from the ring to the man who had just knelt before me like I was his entire world.

The "Ice King" was still looking at me with that raw, intense heat in his **ocean blue eyes**, waiting for me to make it official.

"My turn," I whispered, my voice thick with a mix of giggles and tears.

I took his large, warm hand. It was calloused and strong, the hand of a man who built empires, but the way he held mine was so gentle, as if I were made of glass. I slowly slid the ring onto his finger, the metal cool against his **fair skin**.

His ring imagine it has her intinal [ I ]

"There," I said, leaning in so only he could hear. "Property of Ishita Sharma. No returns, no exchanges, and definitely no refunds, Mr. Rathore."

Rudra let out a low, husky chuckle that vibrated through my very bones. He pulled me closer by my waist, his **6'3" muscular frame** towering over me, making me feel like the most protected woman on the planet.

"I wouldn't dream of it, Jaana," he murmured, his breath fanning over my ear, making me shiver despite the warm lights. "In fact, I think I’ll have the guards lock the doors. Just in case you realize what a monster you’ve signed up for."

"Too late," I teased, looking up at him through my lashes, my **brown eyes** dancing. "I’ve already seen the monster, and turns out, he’s just a big, protective teddy bear who flies to Dubai for my smiles."

Rudra’s jaw tightened in that way it did when he was trying not to smirk too widely. "Teddy bear? Be careful, Ishi. People might hear you and I’ll lose my 'cold-hearted' reputation. I have a board meeting on Monday, you know."

"Oh, don't worry," I said, patting his chest **shamelessly**. "I'll let you keep the 'scary boss' act for the world. But here? You're just my Ru."

Suddenly, **Akshat and Vardaan**—Rudra's brothers—bounded onto the stage, followed by **Jay**, who was already filming everything on his phone.

"Alright, alright! Enough with the private romance!" Jay yelled, grinning ear to ear. "Bhai, if you look at her any harder, you’re going to melt right here on the stage. We need a photo!"

"Stay out of it, Jay," Rudra grumbled, though he didn't let go of my waist. In fact, he pulled me tighter against him.

**Dhristi and Reet** rushed over, hugging me from the other side. "Ishita! We are so happy! But seriously, how did you get the Great Rudra Singh Rathore to kneel? We need tips!"

I laughed, leaning my head against Rudra’s shoulder. "Honestly? I think he just realized I’m too expensive to lose."

"Expensive?" Rudra chimed in, his voice dropping into that possessive, flirtatious tone. "Baby, I could buy the moon, but I still couldn't pay for the way you look at me right now."

"Oooooh!" the siblings cheered in unison, making me turn a bright shade of crimson.

"Shut up, all of you," Rudra said, but he was actually smiling—a real, genuine Rathore smile. He looked at me, and for a second, the humor faded into pure, unadulterated love.

I tucked my hand into the crook of his arm, feeling like the luckiest girl in the world. As we walked toward the dance floor, the flowers still clinging to my **long curly hair**, I whispered, "You know, the ring looks really good on you, Ru."

He glanced down at the 'I' on his finger and then back at me. "It’s the only piece of jewelry I’ll ever value, Ishi. Because it means I’m yours."

The crowd started to step back, clearing a wide circle on the dance floor. I stood there, still breathless from the ring ceremony, my hand tucked firmly into Rudra’s. The air was thick with the scent of a thousand roses and the lingering warmth of my reunion with Shifa. I looked up at my fiancé, noticing a sudden, mischievous glint in his **ocean blue eyes**.

The ambient lights of the hall began to shift, turning from a warm gold to a soft, romantic violet. I felt Rudra’s hand slip away from mine as he stepped forward into the spotlight. **Jay** appeared from the side, grinning like a co-conspirator, and handed him a sleek, black acoustic guitar.

My heart did a little flip. I knew that look. I knew this setup. Even as a high-flying businessman, Rudra had this hidden, soulful side that he only ever showed me. He adjusted the strap over his **6'3" muscular frame**, his fingers lightly brushing the strings to check the tuning.

He looked at me—just me—ignoring the hundreds of staring guests. A small, **shameless** smile played on his lips. He started a soft, rhythmic strumming, and then his voice, that deep, velvety baritone that always made my knees weak, filled the room.

> *Woh din jo Tu mila tha*

> *Main ye na jaanta tha*

> *Hoga tu hamsafar mera*

I felt a lump in my throat. I remembered that day at the Shiv Mandir so clearly—the way he caught me on the stairs, the way his world-class arrogance had softened the moment our eyes met. He was singing our story.

> *Main tujhe hi toh doondta tha*

> *Na jaane tu kahaan tha*

> *Rehna hai umr bhar tera*

He stepped closer to the edge of the stage, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made the rest of the world vanish. It was as if he were telling me that his entire life before me was just a search for something he couldn't name until he saw my face.

> *Jo kisi ka hua na tera hogaya*

> *Tu har bahana mera hogaya*

> *Tere siva ek pal bhi kisiko na du*

The beat picked up, and I saw **Akshat and Vardaan** cheering from the side. Rudra’s voice grew stronger, more passionate, filling every corner of the ballroom.

> *All I do is think about you*

> *Sab mill gaya jabse mila tu*

> *All I do is think about–*

> *Kya hota mera jo na hota mere saath tu*

> *So all I do is think about–*

Just as he hit the chorus, a soft *whoosh* sounded from above. I gasped as a fresh rain of delicate white jasmine and pink rose petals began to **fall on me**. I stood in the center of the petals, looking at him through the floral haze, feeling like a princess in a fairy tale.

He didn't stop. He moved into the second verse, his fingers dancing over the guitar strings with a skill that always surprised me.

> *Tere bin kya savere kya lamhe*

> *Hoote mere kya hoothi zindagi*

> *Socha bhi jaaye na*

> *Ab dekhu main jahaan*

> *Tu na ho aisi koi nahi hai jagah*

> *Tu saath hai dhadkano ki tarah*

> *Teri taareef mein kya kahoon aur kya na kahoon*

> *Ooh-ooh*

I was blushing so hard my cheeks felt warm. He was telling everyone—his family, my friends, the business rivals—that I was his heartbeat. That there was no place in his world where I didn't exist. I saw **Shifa** standing with **Aditi**, both of them wiping away fresh tears as they watched the man who was once the "Ice King" pour his soul out for me.

Rudra’s voice soared as he went back into the chorus, his gaze never leaving my face.

> *All I do is think about you*

> *Sab mill gaya jabse mila tu*

> *All I do is think about–*

> *Kya hota mera jo na hota mere saath tu*

> *So all I do is think about you*

The music reached a crescendo. The petals were still falling, coating the floor around my feet. He was singing from his heart, his voice raw with a love that felt almost overwhelming.

> *All I do is think about–*

> *All I do is think about–*

> *Sab mill gaya jabse mila tu*

> *All I do is think about–*

> *Kya hota mera jo na hota mere saath tu*

> *So all I do is think about you*

As the final note hummed on the strings, the room remained silent for a heartbeat before erupting into a deafening standing ovation. Rudra handed the guitar back to Jay, his eyes still fixed on me. He walked off the small stage, straight into my space, and wrapped his arm possessively around my waist, pulling me close to his chest.

"Everything I have, and everything I am," he whispered against my forehead, "is because of you, Ishi. All I do is think about you."

I looked up at him, my **brown eyes** shining with adoration. "You're a show-off, Rudra Singh Rathore. But you're *my* show-off."

He chuckled, kissing the tip of my nose. "Always, Jaana. Always."