(Ayesha's POV)

The mansion gleamed under golden chandeliers, every corner dripping with extravagance. Crimson roses adorned the tables, their scent heavy in the air. Men in sharp suits and women draped in diamonds filled the room, their laughter blending with the soft hum of classical music.

This wasn't just a party - it was a show of power.

Rudra had ensured that.

He stood near the entrance, surrounded by men in tailored suits - powerful men with cold eyes and dangerous smiles. His hand rested loosely on a glass of whiskey, but his gaze never softened. He wasn't just hosting this party; he was commanding it.

"You look beautiful, beta."

Ayesha turned to find Rudra's mother, Nandini Thakur, smiling warmly beside her. The older woman's hand brushed against Ayesha's arm, gentle yet firm - a silent reminder that she was now part of this family, whether she wanted it or not.

"Thank you," Ayesha murmured, adjusting her emerald-green saree. The fabric clung to her curves, the intricate gold embroidery shimmering under the light. She knew Rudra had chosen this dress - a symbol of wealth, power... and control.

"Have you eaten?" Nandini asked.

Ayesha smiled softly. "I will soon."

"Good." Nandini's gaze softened. "He's been watching you all evening."

Ayesha's breath caught. She knew exactly who she meant.

Her eyes drifted toward Rudra again. Their eyes met across the room, his gaze hard and unwavering. His fingers drummed once against his glass - a silent signal she knew well.

Come here. Now.

---

(Rudra's POV)

She moved through the crowd like a flame - her green saree hugging her perfectly, her chin high, her steps measured. For a moment, Rudra felt something tighten in his chest.

She looked... breathtaking.

But this wasn't the time for weakness. Not tonight.

The men beside him - powerful allies from within his mafia circle - needed to see him as a man in control. No softness, no distractions.

"Your wife's quite the beauty," one of them remarked.

Rudra's hand tightened around his glass. "She's mine," he said coldly.

As Ayesha reached him, he caught her wrist, tugging her close. The scent of jasmine wrapped around him - a scent he knew too well.

"You're late," he murmured low enough that only she could hear.

"I didn't know I was on a schedule," Ayesha shot back, her eyes flashing.

Rudra smirked - a dangerous smile. "You always are."

He leaned closer, lips brushing her ear. "Smile," he warned. "They're watching."

Her fake smile appeared instantly, dazzling and poised.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Rudra's deep voice filled the room as he raised his glass. "Tonight isn't just a celebration of family..." His fingers slid down Ayesha's arm, resting possessively on her waist. "It's a celebration of strength."

Glasses lifted in response, murmurs of agreement spreading. But Rudra's hand never left Ayesha's waist - firm, possessive, warning.

"You're playing the perfect husband," Ayesha whispered through her smile.

"I don't play," Rudra murmured back.

---

The evening stretched on, each guest eager to exchange pleasantries with Rudra - seeking favors, alliances, or simply trying to avoid his wrath. Ayesha played her role well - greeting guests with grace, never straying too far from his side.

But it wasn't until dinner that the tension sharpened.

The long dining table shimmered with silver cutlery and wine-filled crystal glasses. Ayesha sat beside Rudra, her fingers absently tracing the stem of her glass.

"I heard congratulations are in order," one of Rudra's business associates said. His gaze shifted to Ayesha's belly. "A future heir, hmm?"

Ayesha stiffened.

Rudra's jaw clenched. "Let's not discuss family matters at the table," he said coldly.

But the damage was done. Eyes turned their way - whispers followed.

"Seems like your wife's already fulfilling her duty," someone muttered from across the table.

Ayesha's face burned, but before she could react, Rudra's hand slammed against the table. The room fell silent.

"I don't remember asking for your opinion," Rudra said darkly.

The man swallowed hard, lowering his gaze. No one dared speak again.

---

(Ayesha's POV)

Later that night, Ayesha stood on the mansion's balcony, the cold breeze sweeping over her. The party had ended, and most of the guests had gone - but the tension lingered.

She knew Rudra would find her.

"I told you to stay close tonight."

His voice, rough yet calm, broke the silence. Ayesha didn't turn.

"I needed air."

"You needed to avoid me," Rudra countered, stepping beside her.

For a moment, neither spoke. The city lights stretched far below them, distant yet bright.

"You didn't have to defend me," Ayesha said quietly.

"You're my wife," Rudra said simply. "No one disrespects what's mine."

His fingers brushed her arm - soft yet commanding. Ayesha turned to face him, meeting his gaze.

"You keep saying I'm yours..." Her voice faltered. "But you've never once treated me like I belong to you."

His hand slid to her belly - slow, almost hesitant.

"You think I don't care?" Rudra's voice dropped. "I know every step you take. Every breath you draw. Because if anything happened to you..." His fingers pressed gently against her stomach. "Or to this child..." His voice shook slightly. "I'd destroy anyone responsible."

Ayesha's heart twisted.

"You can't protect me from everything," she whispered.

"I can try," Rudra murmured.

For a moment, there was no hate - no vengeance - just the quiet thrum of something deeper. Something neither of them dared to name.

But as Rudra's phone rang, the moment shattered.

He answered quickly, stepping away. "What?" His voice hardened. "Who?"

Ayesha watched his face tighten - the cold, ruthless man returning.

"Stay inside," Rudra ordered, ending the call.

"Rudra, what's wrong?"

"Nothing you need to worry about." His hand cupped her cheek briefly - an unexpected gesture of warmth - before he turned and disappeared into the shadows.

As Ayesha stood alone on the balcony, the chill returned.

Tonight had been a victory. But something told her it wouldn't last.

---

End of Chapter 30