RUDRA'S POV

“Shaurya.”

I sat in my chair, staring out at the daylight filtering through the glass panels of my cabin.

“Why did you call me?” he asked over the phone.

I spun my chair back around, facing the desk, leaning forward.

“Saarth Taneja. Did you ever see Saanvi with him in New York? Or does she know him somehow?” I asked.

He scoffed. “Never. Because Saarth is your business rival and thanks to your damn rivalry, it’s Saanvi who suffered.”

I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples, irritation pooling behind my forehead. Useless. Just like always.

He continued,“And the audacity you have! You’ll never change. Still insecure, still doubting her. You're asking about Saarth and Saanvi again? How cheap can you be, Rudr—"

I cut the call and slammed the phone down on the desk.

Piece of shit. He doesn’t know anything either. I thought he would, considering he was closest to her in New York. And now... now I’m left with the only option I don’t want to consider.

Her family.

But they never gave a damn about her. Why would they know anything?

I stood up, slipped into my blazer, grabbed my phone and car keys, and headed to the door. Just as I turned the handle and opened it, a woman stood there, hand halfway raised to knock.

She smiled politely. “Good morning, Mr. Singhania.”

I nodded slightly.

She started walking in. I stepped back out of reflex, and she paused.

“Uh… I’m Neyara Bansal,” she introduced herself.

I just waited silently urging her to get to the point.

She let out a laugh and then, out of nowhere, she tucked her hair behind her ear.

Was she showing off her nails?

God, if she is, that’s just pathetic.

Speaking of nails... why are Saanvi’s nails shorter now? She loved her long nails. I even did nail art on her once..Damn it, I forgot to ask her—

“Mr. Singhania!” she called, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I looked at her, blinking.

“I’m a Junior Medical Technologist in the diagnostics lab,” she added quickly. “I came to report a system issue… the lab reports aren't syncing properly. So I thought…” She paused, looking unsure, “...I thought I should let you know directly.”

I exhaled slowly and shut my eyes for a second.

Calm down. Don’t kill anyone today.

“Are you serious?” I scoffed, she frowned, confused. “No, seriously—have you lost your mind? You walked into the Managing Director’s cabin for a basic technical glitch?”

She blinked, caught off guard.

“For something like that, you should’ve contacted the Biomedical Engineering department, or at the very least, informed the IT supervisor. You don’t barge into the MD’s office like this. This isn’t a college campus and I’m not your buddy you can just casually drop by to chat with.” I was already annoyed before she walked in, and now this? God, this hospital is filled with the strangest people... except my wife.

Her fingers fidgeted nervously. “I… I’m sorry, Mr. Singhania. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Then follow the chain of command, write a formal complaint, submit it to your Department Head. If it’s technical, it’ll be forwarded to the IT or maintenance team accordingly.”

I moved toward the door, ready to walk out.

But she suddenly stepped in my way, blocking the exit.

I narrowed my eyes. "What's this behaviour?"

She tilted her head slightly with a smile. “You're looking very handsome in this maroon shirt,” she added, gesturing toward my chest with a flick of her fingers.

I hadn’t worn this shirt for the compliments. I wore it for someone who didn’t care enough to notice. The one person I wanted to notice didn’t even spare me a glance when I walked in with white roses and the letter.

“Step aside.”

Before I could take another step, she suddenly reached toward me, an impulsive move. Without thinking, my reflex kicked in. I shoved her back, harder than I intended.

"Ah—!" she yelped, stumbling and falling onto the floor near the door.

But what made my heart drop wasn't her.

It was who I saw behind her.

I caught sight of Saanvi on the floor too, rubbing her hip with one hand, her brows furrowed and lips pressed tightly in pain.

I immediately stepped over the technician and knelt beside her, my hand reaching out to steady her by the shoulder.

"Are you okay? I'm so sorry, Pearl—"

“Shut up!” she yelled, jerking my hand off her as she glared at me.

She started gathering the scattered files around her, still seated on the floor. I hovered close, without touching her but keeping my arms near in case she lost balance. As she rose, I straightened with her, instinctively staying beside her.

She brushed past me, storming into my cabin while I followed. Her glare shot toward the technician, who was still awkwardly seated by the door.

“Some help would be nice,” the woman muttered, looking up at me with expectation.

“You’ve got legs. Use them. And get the fuck out.”

Saanvi spun toward me, “Unbelievable! How can you be so rude to your staff? You literally pushed her. She could file a harassment case against you with the women’s helpline.”

Before I could say anything, the technician spoke up. “Don’t worry, Mr. Singhania. I won’t.”

Saanvi turned to her, clearly stunned.

Same, Pearl… same.

“I should be the one filing a complaint,” I muttered. “She tried to get too close to me. That’s why I pushed her back.”

Saanvi folded her arms, rolling her eyes. “Oh please. Blaming her now? As if I’m going to believe that. You—”

“You looked so handsome in this maroon shirt, I couldn’t help myself,” the technician interrupted with a sheepish smile as she stood, brushing herself off.

I turned slowly to Saanvi, watching her close her eyes, take in a deep breath, and exhale before pointing her finger at me.

“Who told you to wear this shirt today? You know you look handsome in—”

My brows lifted. “Handsome?”

Her hand froze mid-air. She gulped, lips pressing together as her gaze flicked around, pupils dilated.

“Handsome according to women like her,” she clarified quickly, gesturing toward the woman. “So, since you apparently know maroon suits you, at least according to those women why are you wearing it? If you are going to wear things that invite attention from people like her, what exactly are you expecting? You’re the distraction here. You’re intentionally dressing to get noticed. Don’t act surprised when they respond. You brought that attention to yourself. Don’t blame them when it’s you trying to impress.”

I stared at her, trying to process what I had just heard.

"Yes. I wanted to invite attention but from you, not from someone else."

Her brows knit together, confused.

"Because once, you said dark red looks good on me. It’s not for anyone else. And I can wear whatever I want. You sound like one of those hypocrites blaming women for their clothes except this time, it's reversed.”

“Relax, Mr. Singhania,” the technician said with a soft smile.

I turned to her. “Shut the hell up and get out. You’re fired.”

She shrugged, unfazed. “That’s alright. I’m resigning anyway, my wedding’s fixed. I just thought I’d shoot my shot with you before that. Worst case, you’d fire me. And you did.” She turned and walked off.

I blinked at the empty doorway, then looked at Saanvi.

“Told you it wasn’t my fault. I get that you hate me, but didn’t expect you to sound like one of those people who blame someone’s outfit for what happens to them.”

Her cheeks flushed instantly, the pink creeping up her neck. Her fair skin gave it away too easily.

“It’s fine, Pearl,” I said, letting out a soft chuckle. “Why were you even here?”

She huffed, and fanned herself lightly with one hand and let out a breath before looking at me, annoyed. “This—” she held up the file, waving it slightly in the air. “—this is the one you asked Naina for. She didn’t come to give it herself because your secretary makes her uncomfortable.”

“Vedant’s on leave,” I replied.

She scoffed. “You and your secretary are the same fuckers,” she muttered, raking her fingers through her hair in pure frustration.

My gaze lingered on her as she turned to leave. That messy anger, the way she moved unfiltered, fierce, annoyingly beautiful.

“Wait—” I stepped forward. “Are you okay? You fell really hard back there,” I said, motioning toward her waist.

“Mind your business, sickfuck,” she muttered and walked off.

Sickfuck?

I bit the inside of my cheek to stop smiling.

'Sickfuck' from her lips, to me, is something else entirely.

She once blushed when I teased her.

“Why were you so close to me? Oh, I see. Trying to take advantage while I was asleep, you beautiful wife of this sick fuck”

I smiled to myself, then shook my head.

“Alright. Enough.” I grabbed my keys again and headed out.

✿✿✿✿✿

“I want to meet Anubhav Malhotra,” I said to the receptionist.

He nodded. “Of course, Mr. Singhania. Just a moment.”

He picked up the receiver, made a quick call, then stood. “I’ll guide you to his cabin.”

I followed him through the long corridor. The receptionist halted near a polished teakwood door, nodded once, and left.

I knocked once before pushing the door open.

Inside, Vikram stood beside Mr. Malhotra, both deep in discussion. Their heads turned toward me as I entered, and I calmly pulled a chair and sat down across from them.

“Vikram, we’ll continue this later,” he said without looking at him. Vikram's eyes, however, remained fixed on me.

He gathered his laptop and file slowly, as he turned to leave.

Mr. Malhotra spoke first. “Why are you here?”

“For Saanvi.”

Vikram stopped.

Mr. Malhotra leaned back in his chair. “What about her?” he asked, guarded.

“Does Saanvi know Saarth Taneja?” I asked, watching them carefully. “Or maybe either of you do? Could there be a personal or business rivalry involved?”

Vikram let out a breath. Mr. Malhotra’s brow furrowed. “Are you still trying to connect this to my daughter?”

“I’m asking a simple question.”

“No,” he said firmly. “Neither of us know Saarth. Saanvi doesn’t either. And I have no business history or rivalry with him.”

I studied his face. The answer came with composed clarity, no tremble, no theatrics. I sighed and leaned forward slightly, about to rise and end the conversation but something clicked in my mind.

I looked up again, “Did Mrs. Malhotra really die in an accident?”

Their reaction was instant. Both their heads snapped toward me. Vikram froze where he stood. His face lost color, and for a moment, no one said anything. I noticed Vikram's glance at Mr. Malhotra, then lower his gaze.

“Mom was—” Vikram began, but Mr. Malhotra cut him off sharply.

“It was a brutal accident. Saanvi was with her, but she survived. My wife was taken to the hospital, but it was too late. She died due to severe blood loss.”

Found it.

They’re hiding something.

His reply comes too fast. Too rehearsed. Like a child reciting something they were told to memorize. My eyes dropped to the subtle detail and there it is, Mr. Malhotra’s hand pressing tightly against Vikram’s wrist, an unspoken signal. Vikram closed his eyes and looked away.

I smiled faintly. “Do you always give this same script word for word whenever someone asks about your wife’s death?”

His jaw clenched. “This isn’t a script,” he said coldly.

“But that’s exactly what it sounds like,” I said calmly, tilting my head. “I asked you a straightforward question. If it was really an accident, all you had to say was yes, like you answered when I asked you about Saarth. But instead, you gave a practiced story… which tells me you’re trying to convince me more than you're answering me.”

I leaned back slowly. “You know who over explains in an interrogation, Mr. Malhotra? The person with something to hide. The one who knows that truth, if spoken simply, will point straight to guilt. So they build a story. A shield.”

He stared at me, breathing a little heavier now. I could see the flicker of panic buried beneath his rage.

I stood up, buttoned my blazer, and faced them.

“At first, I thought Saanvi was part of it. But now I know she’s been kept in the dark. Whatever happened… it’s buried deep, and it’s rooted in your family. And she doesn’t even know.”

Vikram narrowed his eyes. “You really don’t talk like a businessman. That little monologue? You sound like a cop....or something else.”

"Vikram" I smiled, adjusting my cuffs. “Jo hota hai, woh dikhta nahi... aur jo dikhta hai, woh hota nahi. Aur isse tum aur tumhari family se behtar kaun samajh sakta hai, hai na?” (What happens isn’t seen… and what’s seen doesn’t actually happen.

And who would understand that better than you and your family, right?) I turned to Mr. Malhotra, who hadn’t looked up since then. I locked eyes with Vikram.

“You’re right, Vikram,” I added. “I am more than you think.”

I walked slowly to the door. Just before leaving, I turned slightly.

“You know, being a successful and famous businessman teaches you a lot. How to read people, how to sense danger before it strikes, and how to survive it. When you deal with the media, rivals, betrayals, it sharpens your instincts.”

I hold their gaze.

“And sometimes, those instincts evolve into something else. You start thinking like a cop. Or, if necessary… a spy.”

With that, I unlock the door and step out, leaving the door to click shut behind me.

The topic of Saarth Taneja… can rot in silence for now.

They said it was a car crash. A tragic twist of fate on a road. But fate doesn’t leave questions clawing at your chest at 3 a.m. Fate doesn’t silence a daughter whenever her mother’s name is whispered like it might summon something.

There’s something rotting in the past something that wears the mask of an accident, but reeks of secrets and blood.

Saanvi’s mother.

Every time her name is mentioned, Saanvi’s smile vanishes like light swallowed by a void. That’s not just a grief. It’s terror clawing at her from the inside out.

I’ve seen victims. I’ve seen survivors.

Saanvi is neither. She’s someone who escaped a cage and was forced to pretend the chains were never there. And now the people who forged those chains…are starting to sweat.

I saw the tremble in Vikram’s hands. The way Mr. Malhotra avoided my eyes, like he knew I’d seen the crack in the perfect frame. They’re hiding something. But I know one thing for sure now.

This entire storm, Saanvi’s past, her broken memories, her buried terror…it’s all bleeding from one place.

Mrs. Suhana Malhotra.

And I’m about to dig it open. Even if it means unleashing what was never meant to be uncovered.

And in all of this death, secrets, blood I fear nothing. Nothing... except seeing my Saanvi my pearl drown in the darkness she doesn’t even know is chasing her. I know what’s coming for her. I’ve seen the signs. And it won’t be kind. It won’t be fair. It’ll be brutal.

But she won’t face it alone. Not this time. I’ll be there. In front of her. Behind her. Inside her shadows if I have to be. I'll fight the demons the world throws at her and the ones curled up quietly inside her mind. This time, I won't fail her. Her safety is no longer a promise. It’s my obsession. My purpose.

Even if that means becoming the villain in everyone’s story. Including hers, so be it.

I am the last war her demons will ever see.

I let out a shaky breath and closed my eyes, gripping the car door handle for a second before pulling it open and sliding inside. The moment I turned on the ignition, the screen lit up.

21 January. My gaze lingered on the date.

Next month… 2nd February. It's her birthday.

I leaned back for a second, staring blankly at the display. I need to prepare something. A gift. But what?

Anything too expensive will look like I’m trying to buy her forgiveness like I’m throwing money to cover up the cracks I created.

And something simple? No. She’s not the kind of woman who deserves less. She deserves something with time carved into it. Something I’ve poured my time and heart into.

Then it struck me. A thought. A quiet but certain idea that sparked warmth in my chest.

AUTHOR'S POV

“What the hell were you about to say, Vikram?” Anubhav’s voice thundered through the room as his fist slammed onto the desk, rattling the glass of water beside him.

Vikram stood frozen and silent. His eyes dropped to the floor.

“You won’t say a word. Understood?”

Anubhav’s tone lowered to a warning growl.

Vikram swallowed. Took a breath like it burned going down.

“Dad…” His voice cracked with restraint. “We’re doing wrong by Saanvi. We’ve been doing wrong by her for a long time now. She deserves the truth. And I believe… if we tell her if we just explain she’ll understand.”

Anubhav’s expression twisted in disbelief.

“Have you completely lost your mind?” He took a sharp step forward. “I’m working to send her back to New York to distance her from all this and you want to drag her into it again? You want to hand her the weight we’ve spent years keeping off her shoulders? Let me make one thing very clear if you so much as breathe a word of the past, I swear to—”

He paused. Exhaled. Rubbed a hand down his face.

“She hates us,” Vikram said quietly. “She hates me.”

His gaze lifted raw and haunted.

“There’s been so much distance between me and Saanvi, it stopped feeling like an act. It became real. She’s been alone all these years, and I... I let her be and now I don’t know how to walk back to her. I don’t know how to say, ‘I’m here.’” His voice shook. “The day she asked me what changed... I wanted to tell her everything. That she’s been wrong all along. That I never stopped being her brother.”

Anubhav's stare lingered on him.

“I know she’s hurting, Vikram,” he finally said. “God knows, I see it too. But the truth? It won’t fix anything. It will break what little peace she’s found. She’s with a family now that actually gives her the love she’s longed for. Her in-laws treat her with the care we failed to give.”

He placed his hand on Vikram’s shoulder. “Isn’t that what we always wanted? For her to be happy?”

Vikram’s jaw clenched. “And what about our family? Do we just erase ourselves from her story?”

A single tear slipped down his cheek.

Anubhav closed his eyes, the weight of years pressing behind his temples. He opened them slowly.

“It’s not about us anymore. It’s about Saanvi’s life. And I will not risk it again. We’ve buried the truth this long for a reason. Pain kept locked away is still pain but at least it doesn’t destroy. I won’t gamble with my daughter's safety. Don’t let your heart get selfish, Vikram.”

But Vikram had already turned. Without another word, he stormed out, the door slamming behind him.

Anubhav sat down with a thud, like the bones in his body had finally caved in. He reached into the drawer, hands trembling, and pulled out the old photo frame.

A long-haired woman with amber eyes stared back at him smiling. Suhana.

His fingers brushed the glass.

“Everything’s falling apart, Mrs. Cardiologist,” He laughed bitterly half-choked, half-aching.

“I wish you were here to guide me... Because right now I don’t know if I’m saving her or slowly killing her spirit.” A tear slid down his face.

“I couldn’t be the father she needed… and I sure as hell wasn’t the husband you deserved.”

And then, her voice echoed in his mindlike

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Anubhav… I’d make sure to thank God for sending you to me.”

-------------------

Vikram stepped into his cabin and quietly locked the door behind him. He leaned back against it, exhaling heavily as his eyes landed on the nameplate resting on his desk.

Vikram Malhotra. Chief Executive Officer.

His jaw tightened. With a surge of frustration, he strode across the room, grabbed the plaque, and hurled it to the floor. The metal clattered against the marble.

He stood there for a moment, breathing hard, before sinking into the chair. His hands found his hair, gripping tightly as if trying to hold something in place that was rapidly falling apart inside him.

His phone buzzed..A video call from Falak.

He sighed, closed his eyes for a brief second, then answered.

Her face appeared, sharp eyes, arms crossed, posture stiff on the couch.

“Don’t think I’ve forgiven you.”

Her tone was clipped but her presence felt like a balm.

Vikram managed a tired chuckle. “I wouldn’t dare.”

“Good. I was beginning to think you’d forgotten the fear of your wife.”

He leaned his head back against the chair.

“Vikram…” Falak’s voice softened.

He hummed in response, eyes fixed on her glowing face through the screen.

“You haven’t been sleeping well again, have you?” she asked, leaning closer to her phone propped on the stand.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he deflected. “How’s our little fireball doing?”

She exhaled, knowing his silence well by now. “I’m convinced whatever the gender...this baby is going to be exactly like you. It’s already giving me hell.”

A ghost of a smile touched his lips.

“I just hope they don’t turn out like me…” he murmured.

She stared at him for a moment, “I want to hug you so badly.”

The words cut straight through him. His throat tightened, and moisture blurred his vision.

“I’m sorry, Falak,” he whispered, “For leaving you alone in Houston. For all of it.”

“Don’t,” she interrupted gently, “You’ve been flying back and forth like a man possessed, Vikram. You're doing more than enough for me, for us, for this family. And I need you to stay there. Rest. My parents are here with me, I’m not alone.”

He rubbed the armrest slowly, guilt still looming. “Your mom’s probably furious at me for letting her pregnant daughter stay there.”

She chuckled lightly. “Oh, she doesn’t stop talking about you. But mostly, she’s mad about what you did to Saanvi.”

“I regret that too.” His tears spilled quietly. “I just…” he looked down, trying to find the words, “I just want to be with you, Falak, I want to hold you. I’m exhausted. Everything feels like it’s slipping.”

“Then let yourself fall for a moment. I’ll catch you. You’re not alone in this, Vikram.We’ll meet again soon, I’ll wrap you in the tightest hug, kiss your tired eyes, and let you breathe again. And maybe forgive you for a few minutes,” she teased softly.

Despite everything, he smiled through his tears.

“But don’t tell Saanvi,” she added playfully, “because between you and me, I’m still on her side.”

He laughed a quiet, broken thing but real.

“Vikram,”

He looked at her through the screen, trying to hold himself together.

“You’re the best husband.”

He didn’t say anything. Just nodded, a small smile lingering on his lips like a man who didn’t quite believe he deserved it, but still clung to her words like oxygen.

_______________________________________

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