The trip to Agra was Tanya's idea.
"It'll be good for the press, Rahul," she said over breakfast, swirling coffee in a cup that cost more than most people's monthly rent. "Oberoi Group just acquired the Taj Gateway Hotel. We do a cute little photoshoot at the Taj Mahal. PowerCouple. Legacy. Your board will love it. My father will love it."
Rahul didn't care about the press. He didn't care about the hotel. He cared that for three nights, he wouldn't have to watch Vikram walk past the east garden at 9 PM.
"Fine," he said. "Arrange it."
"Perfect. And bring your… staff. The quiet one. What's her name? Esha?"
"Isha," Rahul corrected before he could stop himself.
Tanya's smile sharpened. "Right. Isha. Bring her. She can carry the bags. Assistants should assist, no?"
It wasn't a request. It was a test. And Rahul, sick with jealousy and desperate to prove he didn't care, failed it.
"Vikram and Isha will come," he told Devyanshi an hour later. "Logistics team. Tanya wants the full… experience."
Devyanshi didn't ask why a CEO needed two assistants for a weekend photoshoot. She just nodded. "Private jet at 6 AM Saturday, sir. Two suites booked at Taj Gateway. And two staff rooms."
Two suites. Two staff rooms. The message was clear. Rahul and Tanya together. Isha and Vikram… together.
The thought made his stomach turn. But he said nothing. Because Rahul Malhotra didn't get jealous. He got even.
Isha found out about the trip from the kitchen boy, not from Rahul.
"Didi, you're going to Taj Mahal!" he said, eyes wide. "Sir said pack light. Three days."
Isha's hands stilled on the dough she was kneading. Taj Mahal. The monument of love. She was going there as luggage. As a prop. With the man who called her an asset and the woman who called her a pet.
"Okay," she said softly.
Vikram found her in the garden that night. She wasn't reading. She was just sitting on the stone bench, staring at nothing.
"You don't have to go," he said, not sitting down. Giving her space. Always giving her space. "I can tell Devyanshi Ma'am you're unwell. She'll handle it."
"I have to," Isha said. "It's in the contract. Clause 7B. 'Accompany the Principal on all travel deemed necessary for business or personal representation.'"
She had memorized it. Every girl in the auction house had.
Vikram was quiet for a long time. Then: "I packed a book for you. In case you get bored. It's about the Taj. The real history. Not the tourist stuff."
He placed it on the bench next to her. A small, old paperback. The Story of the Taj by David Carroll.
"Thank you," Isha whispered.
"Don't thank me," Vikram said. "Just… if it gets bad, find me. Okay? Doesn't matter what time. Doesn't matter where. You find me."
He left before she could answer.
The private jet was obscene. White leather, gold fixtures, a bedroom Isha didn't look at. Tanya spent the entire flight taking selfies with Rahul, her red lips pouting, his arm around her shoulders. His eyes were dead.
Isha and Vikram sat in the staff section behind a thin curtain. They didn't talk. Vikram worked on his laptop. Isha read the book he gave her. Page 43: Mumtaz Mahal died giving birth to their fourteenth child. Shah Jahan was so grief-stricken he went into secluded mourning for a year._
Fourteen children. A year of grief. And he built the Taj.
Rahul built contracts.
The Taj Gateway Hotel was worse than the jet. Marble everywhere. Staff who bowed. Tanya who complained the roses weren't "the right shade of crimson."
"Sir, the suites are ready," the manager said. "The Presidential for you and Ms. Oberoi. And the two executive rooms for your staff."
Two executive rooms. Not one. Separate.
Rahul's jaw unclenched a fraction. He hadn't realized he was tense until then.
"Check-in is done," Devyanshi said, appearing silently. "The photoshoot is at sunrise tomorrow. 5:30 AM at the East Gate. The Taj is closed to public until 6, we have special permission."
"Good," Tanya said, linking her arm through Rahul's. "Let's get settled, darling. I need a bath. Flying commercial with the staff is exhausting."
They hadn't flown commercial. But Isha didn't correct her.
She took her key card and went to her room. Small. Clean. Lonely. It had a window facing the city, not the Taj.
Vikram's room was next door.
Sunrise at the Taj Mahal was supposed to be magical.
It was. Just not for the reasons Tanya planned.
The monument was white fire in the dawn light. Massive. Silent. Older than all of them. Older than money, than contracts, than empires. Shah Jahan's grief made solid, made marble, made eternal.
The photographer Tanya hired was a famous one. He posed them everywhere. Rahul in a black suit, Tanya in a red gown, the Taj behind them. "Now look at each other like you're in love!" he shouted. "Now laugh! Now, Ms. Oberoi, touch his face!"
Rahul did it all. Like a robot. His smiles didn't reach his eyes. His hands on Tanya's waist were mechanical.
Isha and Vikram stood fifty feet away, near the security team. Invisible. Staff.
"Water, sir?" Vikram asked, holding out a bottle when they took a break.
Rahul took it without looking at him. He drank. Then his eyes, by accident, found Isha.
She wasn't looking at him. She was looking at the Taj. Really looking. Her head tilted up, her mouth slightly open, her eyes wet. Not with sadness. With awe.
She was holding Vikram's book in one hand. Her thumb was on page 87.
Rahul's hand tightened on the water bottle. It crumpled.
"What's she reading?" Tanya asked, following his gaze. She snatched the book from Isha's hand before Isha could react. "The Story of the Taj? How sweet. Reading up on love, are we? Planning to trap my assistant next?"
Isha didn't flinch. She didn't grab it back. She just said, quietly, "It's Vikram's book. Please be careful with it. It's old."
Vikram stepped forward half a step. Not threatening. Just… there. Between Tanya and Isha.
Tanya laughed and flipped through it. "God, it's dusty. Here." She tossed it back at Isha. It fell short, landing in the dirt.
Isha bent and picked it up. Wiped the dirt off with her dupatta. Checked the spine. Then looked at Tanya. No anger. No tears. Just… pity.
"He built this for a woman he loved," Isha said softly, looking at the Taj, not at Tanya. "After she died. He spent twenty-two years and 32 million rupees. Bankrupted his empire. For a tomb. Because he couldn't live in a world without her."
She looked at Rahul then. Direct. Unafraid. "You're taking photos in front of it with a woman you can't stand, to make a point to a woman you own. Which one do you think is more pathetic, Mr. Malhotra?"
The silence was absolute. The photographer stopped clicking. The security team looked at their feet. Tanya's mouth fell open.
Rahul's face went white. Then red. Not with anger. With shame.
Because she was right.
Vikram didn't move. Didn't speak. But his presence was a wall behind Isha.
"We're done here," Rahul said, his voice like ice. He threw the crumpled water bottle into a bush. "Pack up. We're leaving."
"Rahul, the light is perfect" the photographer started.
"I SAID WE'RE DONE!"
They left.
The hotel suite was cold. Tanya was furious.
"She humiliated me! In front of staff! In front of the press! Your little contract girl talked back to me!"
"She talked back to me," Rahul said. He was standing at the window, looking at the Taj in the distance. You could see it from here. Small. White. Accusing.
"And you let her! You just stood there!"
"Because she was right," Rahul said. He turned. His eyes were hollow. "I can't stand you, Tanya. I can't stand myself. And I'm using you to hurt a girl who has nothing, because I can't stand that she doesn't want me."
Tanya slapped him. Hard.
His head snapped to the side. He didn't react.
"You're pathetic," she spat. "You're Rahul Malhotra. You have everything. And you're pining over the help? Over a woman you bought for 500 dollars? My father was right about you. You're weak."
She grabbed her purse and stormed out, heels clicking on marble.
The door slammed.
Rahul didn't move for an hour. He just stared at the Taj. At Shah Jahan's grief. At his own empty suite. At his empty life.
He had brought Tanya to prove he didn't care.
All he had proven was that he didn't know how to.
Isha was in her room. She wasn't packing. She was sitting by the window, reading.
A knock. Soft.
She opened it. Vikram. He held out a cup of tea. "From the hotel. It's not dal, but it's hot."
She took it. Their fingers brushed. Neither pulled away.
"I'm sorry about the book," he said. "I should have"
"You didn't do anything," Isha said. "She did. He did. You just… stood there. Thank you."
"For what?"
"For standing there."
They stood in the doorway, not inside, not outside. In between. Like everything else.
"Did you have fun?" Vikram asked suddenly. "At the Taj. Before… everything."
Isha thought about it. The sunrise. The marble. The history. The feeling of being small in front of something that meant everything.
"Yes," she said, and it surprised her. "For a minute. I did. It was beautiful."
Vikram nodded. "Good. You should have beautiful things. Even if they're just for a minute."
Footsteps. Rahul's. He stopped when he saw them. In the hallway. Isha in her doorway. Vikram with tea. Three feet apart. Not touching. But together.
Rahul looked from Vikram's face to Isha's. To the tea. To the book in her other hand.
He said nothing.
He turned and walked back to his suite. Alone.
The door closed.
And for the first time since the auction, Rahul Malhotra understood something Shah Jahan had known 400 years ago.
You can build a palace for grief.
You can buy a country with money.
But you can't make someone love you back.
And that was a prison no amount of marble could cover...
Author's Note:-
Hey lovelies!! 💗
Chapter 10 "The Ivory Prison" is live. We went to the Taj... and Rahul got buried 😭🔥
Tanya wanted a perfect photoshoot for the press. She got a masterclass in heartbreak instead. You can't fake love in front of a 400-year-old monument built from grief. Shah Jahan spent 22 years building the Taj for Mumtaz. Rahul spent 22 minutes destroying his own reputation in front of it.
Isha didn't shout. She didn't cry. She just told the truth. And Vikram? He just held the tea. Sometimes silence is the loudest defense.
Tell me in the comments:-
1. Was Tanya's slap justified or was she out of line?👀
2. Do you still feel any sympathy for Rahul after this trip?
3. Isha + Vikram + a book + the Taj = new OTP?📖💗
Chapter 11"The Return" drops tomorrow at 9 AM. Tanya's gone. The mansion is quiet. And Rahul has to face what he did.
We're climbing from 1.12K to 1.5K because of you. Thank you for reading, for commenting, for caring 🙏
Your writer ✨
Thank you for reading my page 💗 💗