Payal's mind spun in a chaotic whirlwind, confusion battering her from all sides like waves against jagged cliffs. How should she react? Her transmigrated knowledge—the sole anchor in this dangerous world—suddenly felt unreliable, fraying at the edges. In the novel she'd read before dying, there had been no plot like this. When Yuri entered their lives in the original story, the brothers were already married, their polyamorous bond with Payal established and festering with quiet resentment. Yuri had been the interloper, the forbidden obsession that ignited their downfall—not a former fiancée with intimate history predating everything. Had the novel changed? Or had her memories, dulled by the trauma of transmigration and weeks of emotional turmoil, failed her at the worst possible moment?Panic clawed at her chest. The garden's jasmine-scented breeze turned suffocating, the fountain's trickle mocking her with its serenity. Yuri's words replayed relentlessly: I was their first fiancée... I broke the wedding. If this was true, the entire foundation of the plot shifted—Julian's past flames with Yuri weren't just temptation but unfinished business, a wound reopened. Asra and William's cold detachment gained new dimensions, not just villainous indifference but scars from Yuri's rejection. Where did that leave Payal? Was she merely the rebound wife, a convenient replacement after Yuri's dramatic exit, bound to them not by choice but by their father's machinations and power rituals?How should I react? she repeated internally, her brown eyes wide with barely contained dread. I can't stay here any longer the air making her suffocating. The garden suddenly felt like a trap—Yuri's soft gaze probing for cracks, distant murmurs carrying fuel, the mansion's looming silhouette a prison of twisted fates. There were too many plot twists converging, layers she hadn't anticipated. The brothers' hurried departure from the dining tebal and didn't even shown himself that absence now screamed of secrets: Were they discussing Yuri's return? Strategizing how to juggle past and present loves? Asra's vision of her leaving felt prophetic—perhaps she was meant to flee before the obsession consumed them all, before she became collateral in Yuri's calculated reclamation.Her legs trembled as she made to rise, instinct screaming to escape the garden, lock herself away, bury herself in studies—the one goal that anchored her minor-character existence. But before she could turn fully, a warm embrace enveloped her from behind, strong arms wrapping around her waist with desperate urgency. The familiar scent—sandalwood and faint remnants of flour—flooded her senses. Asra."Don't take any decision in this rage," his voice murmured low against her ear, trembling with raw emotion she'd never heard from him. "I can explain. Please, Payal—don't run."His grip tightened protectively, as if anchoring her to the earth, his cool blue hair brushing her cheek. She felt his heartbeat hammering against her back—fast, panicked, a mirror of her own chaos. Asra's precognitive powers thrummed beneath his skin; had he seen this moment, sensed her fracturing trust colliding with past poison? His embrace was both plea and shield, Yuri's watchful presence nearby adding weight—was this performance or genuine desperation?Payal's mind raced with conflicting truths: the novel's canon versus this divergent reality, Yuri's half-truths laced with manipulation, the brothers' secretive forest meeting. Asra's breath warmed her neck, his whispered "I can explain" a lifeline she wasn't sure she could trust. Julian and William's absences loomed—were they complicit in hiding Yuri's past, or victims of Father's schemes layering deception upon deception? Her mind running wild. The garden's fountain continued its oblivious trickle; birds resumed tentative songs; Yuri stood frozen, her mask of concern slipping into calculating curiosity.Payal's fists clenched in Asra's sleeves, torn between wrenching free to demand answers or melting into the embrace, hoarding this fleeting warmth before the plot—changed or remembered wrong—tore it all away. Her transmigrated burden weighed heavier than ever: if the novel had shifted, was her foreknowledge useless? Or was this chaos the divergence point where her "minor character" choices could rewrite everything? Or become a pwan in this story of love hetret , how could she react, one thing is sure that she is okay and live with them until, they don't hurt her , or disrespect her, she sow life more bitter and unwanted, they make her feel wanted, respected and living without any responsibility,
Payal felt the tremor in Asra's arms, his desperate embrace a fragile tether pulling her back from the edge of panic. Her mind still reeled with Yuri's revelations and the sickening realization that the novel's plot had shifted—or her memory had failed her at the cruelest moment. But beneath the chaos, a steely resolve flickered to life. She couldn't afford to crumble here, not in front of Yuri's calculating gaze, not when so much remained uncertain. Drawing a shaky breath, Payal whispered against Asra's chest, her voice barely audible yet laced with quiet command: "Where are Julian and William? Call them back, wherever they are."Asra stiffened slightly, his cool blue hair shifting as he pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. She saw the conflict there—the precognitive weight of futures colliding, the secret forest meeting with his brothers still fresh. "They're... handling something urgent," he murmured, hesitation flickering across his features. "But I'll summon them. For you."Payal nodded, then surprised him by hugging him back—not with desperate need, but with deliberate warmth, a performance born of necessity. "Let's go inside," she whispered, her brown eyes flicking briefly toward Yuri, who remained poised on the grass like a predator savoring the hunt. "And smile. Don't show your fear on your face—Yuri is watching." The words were a lifeline thrown to Asra, grounding them both in shared strategy. If the plot had twisted beyond recognition, they'd face it together, united rather than fractured by Yuri's divide-and-conquer tactics.Asra's expression shifted, understanding dawning as he followed her gaze. Yuri stood bathed in dappled sunlight, her soft features arranged in faux concern, but her eyes glittered with something sharper—triumph, curiosity, calculation. The garden's jasmine vines swayed gently in the breeze, birds resuming their songs as if the world hadn't just tilted on its axis. Servants pruning roses nearby pretended not to listen, but Payal sensed their ears perked for gossip to fuel the mansion's rumor mill. This moment would define the next act: crumble publicly, and Yuri's manipulation succeeded; stand firm, and the brothers' bonds might yet survive."Let's go," Payal said aloud, her voice steady despite the storm within. She pulled gently from Asra's embrace, threading her fingers through his with a naturalness that belied her racing heart. Turning toward the mansion, she cast Yuri a brief, polite smile—the kind reserved for distant acquaintances, empty of warmth yet impeccably courteous. "Thank you for sharing and caring, Yuri. I appreciate your... concern." The subtext dripped unspoken: Your games won't work here.Asra squeezed her hand, drawing strength from her composure as they began walking toward the grand arched entrance. His mind reached out through the supernatural threads binding the brothers—precognitive signals that Julian and William would sense like urgent whispers across the Deo Forest's ancient expanse. Come back. Now. Payal needs us. The message rippled through their powers: William's intuitive alarm bells ringing with fresh warnings, Julian's red eyes snapping open mid-discussion as fury and protectiveness surged.Behind them, Yuri's smile faltered imperceptibly, frustration bleeding through her mask. She'd planted seeds of doubt, but Payal's retreat wasn't the panicked flight she'd anticipated—it was strategic, controlled. Rising gracefully, Yuri smoothed her gossamer dress, mind already recalculating. The servants exchanged glances, noting the tension; whispers would spread by teatime, reaching their father's ears within hours. Yuri trailed at a respectful distance, unwilling to cede ground but wary of overplaying her hand.As Payal and Asra crossed the threshold into the mansion's cool, shadowed interior, the weight of marble columns and ancestral portraits pressed down—reminders of the empire's brutal legacy, marriages forged for power, obsessions that doomed generations. Payal's grip on Asra's hand tightened momentarily, her transmigrated knowledge a chaotic swirl: Was Yuri's confession truth, manipulation, or a canon divergence her unique position could exploit? The breakfast table's lively warmth felt distant now, replaced by the mansion's oppressive grandeur."They'll come," Asra murmured as they paused in the echoing foyer, his dark eyes searching hers. "Julian and William—they'll return the moment they sense the urgency. We'll face this together, all of us." His voice carried conviction, yet underneath lurked the tremor of his vision: Payal leaving, because of us. Could transparency and unity avert that future, or would gathered truths only accelerate the fracture?Payal nodded, releasing his hand to smooth her dress, composing herself as footsteps echoed from distant corridors—servants bustling, Yuri's measured approach, and somewhere beyond the walls, the brothers racing back through supernatural means. The mansion held its breath, and Payal stood at its center, no longer passive minor character but a fulcrum upon which their fates balanced. Her smile remained fixed, fear buried beneath steely resolve: she'd demand answers, rewrite what she could, and hoard every beautiful moment even as the plot's dark gravity pulled them toward ruin.
Asra shadowed Payal closely through the mansion's labyrinthine halls, his presence a comforting bulwark against the storm brewing in her mind. The cool marble floors echoed their footsteps, portraits of stern ancestors seeming to watch with judgmental eyes, while distant servant chatter hinted at Yuri's lingering presence in the garden, no doubt recalibrating her next move. Payal's heart raced with unresolved questions—Yuri's fiancée confession clashing against her novel knowledge, how long gonna i think about this shit ,
the brothers' secretive haste post-breakfast, Asra's delayed garden rendezvous—but his nearness grounded her, a silent promise amid the uncertainty.Suddenly, Asra halted, gently pulling her back by the elbow into a shadowed alcove. His cool blue hair fell forward as he leaned in urgently. "They're here," he breathed, dark eyes intense. "In William's study room. Already."Payal blinked, confusion knitting her brow. "How come they're so fast? And when did you tell them? All this time, I was with you—we were together."Asra's expression tightened, a flicker of his precognitive burden surfacing. "I will tell you everything," he promised, voice low and fervent. "Just come with me. Do you trust me?" He whispered the last words directly into her ear, his warm breath sending an electric sensation rippling through her body—a shiver cascading from her spine to her fingertips, igniting warmth in her chest despite the chill of suspicion.He didn't wait for her answer, not giving her a moment to process the intimacy of the moment or the supernatural speed of his brothers' arrival. Their fingers intertwined seamlessly—his grip firm yet tender, calluses from kitchen labors brushing her skin—as he led her swiftly toward William's study. The path wound through opulent corridors: gilded mirrors reflecting their linked hands, crystal sconces flickering like watchful eyes, the faint hum of latent magic in the walls responding to their powers. Payal's mind whirled—how had Julian and William materialized so quickly ? Telepathic bonds? Asra's visions bridging distances? Yuri's interruption had bought them mere minutes; this precision felt orchestrated, hinting at deeper interconnectedness she, as the sole transmigrator, hadn't anticipated in the novel.Servants averted gazes as they passed, whispers trailing: "The lady with Master Asra... after the garden talk with Miss Yuri..." Gossip amplifying the mansion's tension. Payal squeezed Asra's hand, battling doubt—trust him, despite the plot's villains' deceptions? The sensation from his whisper lingered, a physical echo of vulnerability she craved amid isolation, her minor role feeling dangerously central.They reached the study's heavy door, Asra pausing to flash her a reassuring smile—flour still faintly dusting his cheek from breakfast, humanizing the supernatural seer. Inside awaited confrontation: William's anxious turmoil over emotions cracking his detachment, Julian's rage-fueled regrets from their forest pact, Yuri's discord demanding uprooting. Asra pushed the door open, their intertwined hands a symbol of unity as they stepped into the lion's den, Payal's heart pounding with the weight of truths about to unfold—perhaps rewriting the novel's doom, or sealing it.Additional layers deepened the urgency: the Deo Forest's ancient magic still clung to Asra like mist, amplifying his visions of Payal leaving; William's powers prickled with fresh warnings of Yuri's manipulation; Julian's red aura simmered with protectiveness post-apology. Payal's transmigrated secret burned—only she knew the blurb's obsession prophecy—but trusting Asra meant risking revelation, turning her from spectator to player in their villainous saga.
She doesn't know what to do , the faces make her forgive ,
Why am I like this?