The temple bells hadn’t stopped echoing when Meera’s world shattered.

Her father’s body lay draped in white, eyes closed forever — leaving her behind in the unforgiving hands of fate. Her stepmother, Kamla, wept loud enough for the village to hear but not loud enough to hide her smirk.

It didn’t even take three days for Kamla to reveal her true face.

There after funeral rites , Meera sat on mud ground in their hut - weeping for her loss .. at a very tender age she lost both her mother and father ...

“You? A burden,” Kamla - her stepmother spat, tearing Meera’s father’s photo off the wall.

“He left only debts for us .. how am I gonna deal with all those ?, not blessings. And you? Useless. No husband. No dowry. Just those big eyes and that stubborn mouth.”- Kamla spat her venomous words..

Meera stood in silence, tears drying before they could fall. Her grief was still fresh, raw, trembling within her bones — but Kamla had no patience for sorrow.

Instead, there came a knock on the door.

Meera went to kitchen seeing outsiders , as she doesn't want anyone to see her ... She knows how the world is ..

Three men entered. One was the moneylender, another a local trader, and the last... he didn’t speak. He didn’t have to.

He was Sarpanch Devendra Singh Rathore — tall, silent, eyes as sharp as a blade, arms folded across his broad chest, radiating unspoken power. His black kurta hugged his muscular frame, his expression unreadable, jaw locked in dominance.

Kamla adjusted her pallu and greeted them with fake sweetness.

“You’ve come for what’s owed, I know. And you all know what our condition is ... I don't have any money to offer .. except this 700 rupees .. .”- kamla said keeping on the chair in the middle..

The moneylender took the money with greedy eyes..

" Oh yes...! Your debt is waived off with interest " - he said counting the notes..

" sarpanch ji , Seth ji .... I don't have any money to pay to you ... But I have a solution " - Kamala said

And Meera's kept her ears on mud wall from kitchen to listein her stepmother's decision ..

"Meera... My stepdaughter .. but she's like a daughter to me "- she fakes her cry and sobs...

Meera stumbled , her body shuddered at kamla's words...

“You’ll take her,Seth ji or Sarpanch ji. She’s young, untouched, pretty enough. Loyal too — like her father. In return, forget the debt.”

The room fell into dead silence. Only the whirring of the ceiling fan, creaking above, reminded Meera she hadn’t gone deaf.

Her blood froze.

“What... did you just say?” Meera whispered, her voice breaking as she came out of kitchen with feeling of deceived..

Kamla turned with venom in her voice.

“You think this is a fairytale, Meera? You think you’ll marry for love? You’ll go to the Sarpanch’s haveli and serve. That’s more than what your fate deserves.”

And by listening to her soft words - they seen her... Captivated by Meera - with a lustful eyes moneylender kept the money on chair..

"Seth ji - I think you should take the money .."- money lender said seeing meera..

But a simple glance of devendra - the sarpanch - powerful of all , held that moneylender shut up ...

Devendra stepped forward slowly, boots echoing with each step.

He said nothing — just looked at Meera. His gaze wasn’t lustful — it was assessing. As if deciding whether she was worth the transaction. Meera met his eyes, refusing to look away, even when her heart pounded like a trapped bird.

“She’s not a toy,” the trader whispered nervously. She’s barely—”- a trader about to say with humanity but a single glimpse of sarpanch's dark intense eyes is enough for him to shut up ...

“She’s strong,” Devendra finally said, his voice low, rumbling like distant thunder. “She’ll survive.”

"And you ... Take this money.. your debt is cleared ... "- devendra kept a bundle of cash from his pocket on chair eyeing at money lender...

Kamla cackled. “Then it’s done sarpanch ji... she's yours now... she will serve you in haveli ..”- kamla said with a grin..

Seth ji went away from there with a broken heart seeing how the young lady's life is shattered...

And moneylender went away from there - with a smirk ' if not today - I'll enjoy your body some other day meera ' - the money lender thought and went away..

" I'm not any toy that you can threw me away ... I'm a human ---" - meera is about to say when she heard roaring engine of jeep ...

"You belongs to sarpanch ji now.... Serve him ... Pay your father's debt .. then get your freedom "- Kamla spatted back ,dragging Meera's arm from kitchen and threw her out , shutting the door on her face...

Meera with silent cries , knocked the door to open...her bangles with cliche sound...

And knowing her fate , her step mother's cruelty meera stood there glancing at her home for a last time...

The people , neighbours saw her with pity... But no one dares to stop ...

The engine roared again and meera glanced at him ... His eyes sharp - he didn't speak even a word - but she understood from his angry eyes that he's waiting for her...

---

That night, under the cover of shadows, Meera was sent off like cattle — no vermilion, no farewell, just silence and shame.

She sat inside the jeep, surrounded by darkness, her fingers clenched into fists, eyes staring ahead. No tears now. Only fire.

As the village disappeared behind her, she told herself,

" You will not break. You will not bow"- mera thought with firmness .

The entire journey is silent... Not even a word ..! He doesn't speak and she doesn't want any conversation between them..

---

Arrival at the Haveli

The haveli loomed like a monster — sprawling, cold, grand. Two men opened the iron gates as the jeep rolled in. Lanterns flickered along the corridors. Peacocks cried in the distance.

Devendra walked ahead, not once looking back at her. He didn’t offer a hand, not even a glance. His silence screamed power — untouchable, unreadable, unmoved.

Meera stepped onto the threshold.

Her feet trembled but she didn’t let them falter. She looked around the sandstone palace that would now be her prison... or battleground.

“From now,” Devendra said suddenly, turning halfway to her, his voice like gravel, “You belong here. You don’t answer to anyone but me.”- he said in a dominating tone...

She stared at him her eyes dead .. no emotions - no life .. her eyes with dried tear marks - kohl smudged - red - lifeless eyes...

Without speaking - they spoke more than words...

“I belong to no one.”- she said

Devendra’s eyes darkened. Silent but furious ...— just slightly.

" Serve me ... Pay the debt ... Get your freedom " - he said bluntly ..

--

And so, Meera entered the haveli — not as a bride, not as a guest.

But as something bought.

Yet, in her heart, she knew one thing.

She would never let this place change who she was.

Not even for the dominating sarpanch Devendra Rana Reddy...

She's allotted a small room ...cosy in that haveli ...

The haveli’s silence was deafening.

No women’s laughter. No children running through the corridors. Just the soft rustling of trees and the occasional cry of a distant owl — like the haveli itself had long forgotten how to live.

Meera’s footsteps echoed against the marble as two servants led her into a wide, dimly lit room. A bed carved from dark teak, a brass mirror stained with time, and an oil lamp flickering like her own courage.

“This is yours,” one of them mumbled without eye contact.

Yours.

Funny word.

She didn’t ask for it. Didn’t want it. Didn’t belong here.

But she said nothing — just nodded as they left.

She sat on the edge of the bed, her fingers playing with the hem of her dupatta, her eyes distant. Every inch of this room reminded her she was no longer Meera — the girl who fed the cows, laughed with village kids, who braided her hair with wildflowers.

She was Meera, A sold one just like that - a cattle?? A sack of grains??

---

Meanwhile, in the courtyard…

Devendra Rathore stood at the edge of the veranda, arms crossed, smoking slowly, his eyes on the moon.

People feared him. For his silence, for his unshaken power, for the way he handled village disputes without blinking. He wasn’t a man of many words — but when he spoke, men listened. And when he didn’t, they feared why he hadn’t.

“She didn’t cry,” he muttered to himself.

He’d watched her — from the moment she was sold to the time she stepped into the jeep. Most girls would have wept. Pleaded. Broken.

But Meera... Meera had looked straight at him, with anger, not fear.

He took a final drag from his cigarette and tossed it into the dust.

---

Back in her room…

A loud knock.

Meera jumped.

The door creaked open. It was him.

He stepped in like he owned not just the haveli, but the air around her. Wearing all black, kurta unbuttoned slightly at the collar, showing a hint of his chest — broad, scarred, masculine.

He didn’t ask. He simply entered.

Meera stood, straightening herself.

“You should rest,” he said, voice low.

She didn’t reply.

He walked closer, just enough for her to feel his presence. But he didn’t touch her.

“This room, this house — they’re yours now,” he said.

“But step out of line… and I won’t be kind." - he said speaking truths bluntly ...

Meera clenched her jaw.

“I didn’t choose to be here.”- meera mumbled lowering her head..

He met her eyes — unreadable.

“Neither did I.”- he said mere like a whisper..

That sentence lingered in the air. Unsaid stories. Buried grief. Shadows in his past that matched hers.

“Why me?” she asked suddenly. “You could’ve had anyone. Why buy me a sack of grain?”

A flicker passed through his face. Maybe guilt. Maybe pride. Maybe something darker.

“Because I don’t like debts,” he said. “And you? You’re not grain. You’re... fire.”- he said in deep dark intense thud tone..

He stepped closer, his hand lifting — for a second, she thought he’d touch her face — but he didn’t. He pulled a thread of her loose hair back behind her ear, then stepped back, cold and controlled.

“Stay quiet. Stay useful. Stay out of trouble,” he said

“You’ll find this place bearable only by doing them.”- he said in a deep husky tone ...

Meera didn’t lower her gaze.

“And if I don’t?”- meera mumbled in low tone..

He tilted his head slightly. That smirk again — dangerous and beautiful.

“Then you’ll learn why people don’t disobey the Sarpanch.”

He turned, walked out, and left her alone — heart racing, cheeks burning, but spine straight.

That night, as the oil lamp flickered beside her and the wind howled through the haveli’s arches, Meera didn’t sleep.

She refused to be broken.Not by fate. Not by Kamla.

And not by Devendra Rana ..

👀🎊

Hey readers , I hope you enjoyed the plot now ... Comment down if you want to me to write this story ... It will be of nearly 20-25 chapters...!

Pendown your thoughts in comments box .. how you felt about dev and meera