AUTHOR'S POV

"Sorry."

Rudra looks up slowly, blood trailing from the corner of his mouth, he wipes it away.

"Is it hurting?" The words feel wrong in her voice. They sound soft, but carry nothing warm. Her thumb grazes the cut on his lip.

"No... it's fine."

"It should hurt, Rudra." Her thumb presses into the wound a little more, enough to draw another quiet hiss from him. "I assumed you'd be used to this by now. The roughness. The bruises. Isn't that what you've always been drawn to?" Her fingers slide along his jaw, brushing gently, like mock affection.

"You really thought last night meant something?" Her head tilts slightly.

He just stares. The smile he carried was long buried.

"All my life, I thought I was hard to love... but then I saw you yesterday, so desperate, you kept talking like a fool. Whispering dreams and promises. Holding my hand like it meant something. I watched you the whole time, wondering how you could be so blind. I didn't even have to try, Rudra. One smile, and you gave me everything."

His throat tightens, "You planned this?"

"From the moment I smiled at you."

A tear slips down his cheek. "Was any of it real?"

"To me? No."

His eyes stay on hers, quiet, pleading, clinging to the last thread of something they once shared. "You said forever..."

"So did every liar before me."

His shoulders drop. His body sinks in on itself. "So it was all fake?"

Her smile was cruel and tender in the worst way. "Real enough to fool you."

She reaches out, wiping the tear from his cheek, fingers dragging slowly across his skin. "Why are you crying? I'm not the first, am I? You told me about Anvika. She cheated on you, too. I thought you'd be better prepared."

His head lifts and eyes glossy. He finally connects it. Her words last night. The things she asked. The way she looked at him. She studied him.

"What you've shared with me tonight is more than enough to understand you better."

Her fingers glide down his chest. He closes his eyes and breathes in raggedly, stopping her hand before it can go further. "Please... don't."

She leans in, "So it's a problem when I touch you, but not when half the women in this country have already had their turn?"

His breath falters, shudder deep in his chest. A cry builds, clawing at the back of his throat, but he swallows it. His eyes drop to the floor, lashes wet.

"You're my husband, Rudra. But somehow, I'm the only one who hasn't had you." She stares at his lips like they disgust her. "Isn't that unfair? To me?"

He shakes his head slowly, lips trembling. "Don't do this...please."

A dry chuckle escapes her. She steps back, arms folding. "Don't act innocent now. You had your fun. You gave them everything, your attention, your body, your words. What about me?" The shame twists inside him. "Tell me," she leans in slightly, "how much did they pay you, Rudra? Since you're my husband now, shouldn't I get that privilege for free?" A smirk curls her lips. "Actually, I'd be happy to pay. Just give me a discount. You don't seem that expensive anymore."

His knees nearly buckle. He clutches his chest trying to hold himself together, breath hitching, every inhale jagged. When he looks at her again, his eyes bloodshot, his face pale.

Her gaze doesn't soften. "What happened? Can't take what you gave?" She steps forward again. "You remember what you said to me?" She lifts his chin with two fingers. "You threw filth at me for things I never did." Her grip tightens on his collar and yanks him closer. "I follow one rule, Rudra, I return what I'm given. The difference is... I didn't deserve any of what you gave me. But you? This-" her hand gestures at his broken frame "-this suits you. It fits. Because this is what you've been your whole life. Filthy. Disposable. Easily sold."

His breathing was shallow. Hands limp at his sides. The fight in him is gone.

"You remember your first day here?" she whispers, "I promised I'll make you regret coming here, to make you feel pain in ways you never expected, I promised I'll return one every wound you gave." Her fingers let go of his collar. She stands tall, composed, and victorious. "I told you, Rudra, I would go to any extent. Because I won't compromise my self-respect. Even if it means destroying yours in the process."

He just stands there his chest heaving, tears falling, a man stripped bare of everything he once believed about love, loyalty, and himself.

"Let me break one more illusion you have, Rudra." Her eyes locked with his, staring through him rather than at him. "You think you're so charming. So desirable. Filthy rich. The kind of man every woman would die to have. And maybe you are... I won't lie. You are all of that. But here's the truth you refuse to admit-" she steps closer, "They don't want you, Rudra. They want your bed. They want your money. You're nothing more than a bedwarmer and a luxurious lifestyle on two legs. That's all you've ever been."

A dull ache stabs at his temple, turning into something deeper. Migraine blooming like rot. His body jerks slightly as he stumbles a half step back, fingers twitching near his face. His lids shut tight, and that's when it begins, voices from the past, from nights he buried.

"Yes, you're fun in bed, but not the kind of man I'd stay with."

"You're just good for money. And best... for bed."

She doesn't notice or maybe she does and just doesn't care. Rage blinds her. "You can never be a priority, Rudra." Her voice cracks but pushes on. "You're just a distraction. A temporary thrill. Once the lights fade and the novelty wears off, you're nothing but noise people want to forget."

His hand flies to his head as his PTSD claws its way out from the pit of his past. His fingers tangle in his hair as he grips tight, trying to hold himself still, trying to stop the spiraling. The pain was pulsing. His breaths come too fast. "Please," he manages, voice strangled, barely there. "Just... stop."

She scoffs bitterly, eyes glinting with tears she refuses to let fall. "You even got played by your own wife, Rudra. That's how easy you are. And believe it or not, I think just like Anvika. That's all I see when I look at you, a beautiful lie. A man who looks like everything but is made of nothing."

He shakes his head slowly, again and again, to make her stop, like if he just denied it long enough, it would all vanish.

"Now I understand why Anvika chose her best friend over you." Her throat tightens. "It wasn't a betrayal... it was a wise decision. You deserved every bit of it!"

"I felt safe with you, Saanvi..." His head tilts slightly, the gesture weak, the smallest motion of surrender His exhausted eyes, low lidded and rimmed with red, glisten with tears that refuse to stop. They look straight at her. Last night, he saw her as a safe place. Today, she's undoing every hope he dared to believe in.

"Why didn't you beg her to take you back?!" she yells. "You should've! If you had just crawled after her like a desperate dog, maybe I wouldn't be the one stuck here with you. She dumped her emotional trash into my life, a man who ruins everything he touches and walked away happy with her best friend, while I'm the one left with you. You destroyed everything, my peace, my trust-"

He grabs her wrists, not forcefully, but with a trembling grip. His eyes, clouded with tears and shame, avoid hers as he gently peels her hands off him like they're burning his skin.

His shoulders tremble as he pulls his palm away from the desk he'd been leaning on for support. Without a word, he stumbles toward the door. His palm crashes against it, flinging it open with a jolt. And then he walks out with ragged breath and wiping his tears with the back of his trembling hand leaving behind everything, including whatever was left of himself.

She stands in silence, eyes fixed on the glass doors in front of her. Outside, the city glows in the dark lights flickering against the night. Her reflection stares back at her, hollow and blurred by the tears finally slipping down her cheeks.

She draws in a long, shaky breath, then wipes her face, forcing the emotion back into the corners of her chest.

A soft knock on the door breaks the stillness. She turns quickly, just for a moment hoping it's him.

But it's Vedant.

"Mrs. Singhania." Vedant speaks calmly, standing at the threshold, "I'll be escorting you to the Singhania mansion."

Her brows knit together. "Singhania mansion?"

"Mr. Singhania has instructed me to ensure you reach there safely,"

She takes a step forward. "Where is he?"

"Not my place to answer. I'll be waiting by the car." With that, he steps back and leaves.

✿✿✿✿✿

Rudra drove like a man possessed, and recklessly, foot slammed on the accelerator, the engine screaming beneath him. His knuckles whitened around the steering wheel, veins bulging, muscles locked. Tears poured freely leaving burning trails down his cheeks as his chest heaved, trying to suck in air through the choke of shame.

His eyes bloodshot, stinging stared blankly ahead, barely seeing the road, only the flashes of her words, her voice, her disgust.

"She dumped her emotional trash into my life, a man who ruins everything he touches."

Then came the familiar throb. A sharp pulse in his head. He groaned, his one hand momentarily flying to his temple as the pain grew unbearable. His vision faltered yet he forced them open, refusing to stop.

A car suddenly appeared on his path, too close but he didn't slow down, he pushed harder on the pedal. The other driver swerved to a stop. With a violent twist of the wheel, Rudra narrowly missed them, tires screeching as his car tore past the other vehicle by inches.

His heart slammed against his ribs like it wanted out, pounding with such violence it hurt. His mouth stayed open dry, shaking whispers of stop stop stop echoing somewhere in his bones, but he couldn't listen. Voices echoed in his mind vicious words from the past slamming against the walls of his skull. His PTSD hit its peak, clouding everything but the pain.

By the time he reached the house, he was barely standing. He stumbled inside. His knees almost gave out as he dragged himself through the hallway, ignoring everything around him. He shoved the bedroom door shut behind him.

He staggered to the cupboard, hands trembling violently. He yanked open drawer after drawer, not even looking, just desperate. The pills spilled out of the strip as he tore at it like an animal, his breathing now shallow, erratic. He threw a few into his mouth and swallowed dry, gagging slightly.

His eyes darted and he saw water. He stumbled toward the table, knocked the bottle over in his rush, then snatched it mid-roll. He drank, then flung it with all the rage his body could manage. It hit the wall, bounced, and rolled away.

Collapsing onto the couch, he leaned back, head thrown against the cushion, as he stared at the ceiling. Sweat beaded on his skin, dripping down the sides of his face.

Then the pain hit again and a painful scream ripped through him. His hands clutched at his temples, pressing, digging into his scalp like he could crush the pain out of his skull. His elbows dug into his knees as he hunched forward, his breathing came in short, panicked bursts, mouth opened but no sound came. His eyes were wet, burning, face twisted in anguish as another silent cry shook through him.

His body leans back onto the couch once again and eyelids started to close, "No..." The word left his lips in a tired whisper. He forced his eyes open, blinking hard, trying to stay awake knowing there would be a price if he let sleep take over. But his body didn't listen. His eyes slowly closed, his arms lay limp at his sides. His head tilted slightly, shoulders sinking.

"When will you come back, Anvika?" Rudra muttered, and stared at the wall clock flashing 11:48 PM. He adjusted his glasses absentmindedly, a small nervous smile tugging at his lips as he glanced around the apartment the soft glow of fairy lights reflecting off the glass frames, the scent of roses filling the room. Red balloons were scattered thoughtfully, a heart shaped cake rested gently on the bed. It was their fourth anniversary. He had spent hours getting everything perfect.

He blushed just imagining her reaction. How surprised she'd be. How her eyes would light up.

The click of the door snapped him out of his thoughts.

Panicked with excitement, he rushed to hide near the door, grinning to himself. His heart thumped in his chest fast.

But that hope died the second he heard another voice.

"I can't control myself," Mahir chuckled.

"We just had a session at your home." Anvika's familiar laugh followed.

His body stiffens as his mind tries to make sense of what he just heard.

"There's a different feeling having you here... the same bed where that douchebag fucks you, thinking you love him."

"He helped us a lot, Mahir. Be a little kind," she murmured, followed by a breathy laugh.

A dull ringing begins in Rudra's ears. The warmth drains from his face. He stood there trapped between reality and disbelief, like someone had pulled the floor out from under him. His eyes blinked rapidly, lips parted. He covered his mouth, trying not to make a sound and legs trembled beneath him, one hand slowly gripping the edge of the wall for support.

"What's that?" Mahir picked up the gift box. "Happy four-year anniversary, my love. I love you so much, Anvika," he read out loud.

Anvika's heels tapped against the floor as she walked toward the bedroom. Mahir followed her in.

The moment they stepped inside the bedroom, they saw all the candles, the petals, the cake and then... him.

He stood in the corner, back pressed to the wall, head bowed. As they looked at him, he slowly lifted his head.

His face was pale. His eyes swollen, red veins spiderwebbing through the whites. Tears streamed down his cheeks freely, like his body had given up trying to hold anything in. His lips quivered. He was shaking not out of anger, but out of sheer emotional overload. His hands hung loose, fingers twitching, blood drained from his face.

"You shouldn't have heard those things, Rudra."

He looked at her, and his eyes landed on the hickey on her neck. A sob tore from his throat, raw and unfiltered. He covered his mouth, trying to silence himself, but the pain refused to stay quiet.

"Since when?" He looked only at her.

Mahir laughed. "Bro, since the beginning. She was always bored. You're just the filler in her story."

His heart physically ached, a deep twisting pain that radiated down his arms. He looked back at her. "You told me you loved me."

"You were obsessed with the idea of being loved and I needed connections. A luxurious life. And there you were innocent, soft-hearted, rich. You were the perfect boyfriend, Rudra. Always fulfilling my demands. But love? That's not something I could do. I mean, come on... I need a man, not a boy. Yes, you're fun in bed, but not the kind of man I'd stay with."

"You said we'd get married. That we'd live together..."

Mahir laughed, he laughed at his belief. Anvika let out a breath. "People say a lot of things when they're trying to hold onto something convenient. You wanted to hear those things. That's why I said them. Now it's over. I got what I wanted. I'll be working as an assistant to one of the biggest directors in the industry. I don't need to fake anything anymore. But hey... I'll miss how good you were in bed." Her voice was so calm, so logical. There's no venom, no shouting. That's what makes it all worse.

She glances at Mahir, who wraps an arm possessively around her waist. Rudra's teary eyes fall to that casual, intimate gesture. This was the woman he trusted more than anything in the world. "Why him?" he asks quietly, keeping his eyes on Mahir's hand still resting at her waist. "Why not me Anvika? Wasn't my love enough?"

"That's the problem, Rudra what a fool you are. You loved me too much. You trusted me too much. You ignored everything, even that night you saw me under Mahir. You said you trusted me." She chuckles, "God, we laughed for hours after that. You're a joke, Rudra."

He stared at her. She walked closer, leaned in, and whispered near his ear "You're just good for money. And best... for bed." He gasped like someone had punched the air out of his lungs. His entire body trembled, his hands rising instinctively to cover his ears, but it was too late. The words were already inside him, echoing, poisoning.

Mahir throws her a sharp look. "Anvika,"

She just chuckles and brushes it off. "What? I'm being fair." She turns back to Mahir and smiles. "Besides, you know how much I love you, Mahir." Without hesitation, she turns and presses a quick kiss to Mahir's lips.

Rudra watches the moment unfold in front of him, numbness spreading through his limbs. The woman he had loved so earnestly, who once called Mahir her best friend and swore he had nothing to worry about, is now openly kissing him like Rudra never existed at all.

She glanced back at him. "You're too innocent, Rudra. Too naive. Too soft-hearted," she wipes her lips from the back of her hand. "Boys like you don't survive long in a world like this. So maybe I did you a favor. Maybe this lesson was something you needed. You'll thank me one day."

He tries to move, but his legs feel too heavy. With one shaky breath, he pushes himself forward. His steps are uneven, and he stumbles as he heads for the door. His shoulder bumps the wall, but he keeps going. He runs out of the room, out of the apartment, away from her and everything he thought was love.

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

Rudra walks aimlessly down the dark, empty road, the cold air brushing against his damp skin. His eyes glassy, tears slipping silently down his cheeks.

Suddenly, the sharp glare of headlights came through the darkness, flooding over his figure. A car barrels toward him, the sound of screeching tires echoing into the still night. He stands frozen in the middle of the road, eyes blank, shoulders slumped. He stares straight ahead, his mind completely vacant.

And then, slowly, he closes his eyes.

For a brief moment, he accepts it. Whatever is coming, he welcomes it.

But in the next second, a rough force yanks him backward. He stumbles and falls onto the side of the road, landing hard against the gravel. A sharp pain shoots through his arm as he hisses out.

"You fucking shit!" a voice barks. "You would've just died right now!"

Rudra blinks through his tears, eyes focusing on a pair of furious blue ones glaring at him crouched beside him, fists clenched around the collar of his shirt, shaking him as anger and panic blur together on his face.

"You were right about her," Rudra mumbles, "She was cheating on me all this time, Avyaan."

Avyaan exhales deeply, letting go of his shirt. He already knew. Anvika had called him earlier and told him everything, half-laughing like it was some twisted joke. But Avyaan hadn't found it funny. He knew Rudra, knew how delicate his heart was. And he had known he would do something reckless.

"Rudra..." he says softly,

"How could she?" Rudra's voice trembles as he speaks. He stares down at the empty road ahead, his eyes hollow. "How can someone be that cruel? I thought... I thought maybe there's kindness in everyone, somewhere. But Anvika showed me how wrong I was. She made me realize that having a soft heart is a curse. That not everyone returns kindness. Some people take your heart, break it open, and leave it in a mess so shattered... nothing can ever fix it again."

He turns to look at Avyaan, his lips trembling. "They call me a fool, Avyaan. A joke. Why? Because I trusted? Because I chose to believe in her? I was hurting every day, but I stayed quiet, because I didn't want her to feel like I didn't believe in her love." He lets out a bitter laugh through his tears. "And now I'm the fool?"

"Rudra," Avyaan whispers, trying to calm him. "It's not your fault, okay? She's a fucking bitch. She's going to regret everything she did to you. You didn't deserve any of it."

"But nothing can ever fix this," Rudra replies, looking at him with tired, bloodshot eyes. "I feel disgusting, Avyaan. I keep asking myself, where did I go wrong? Why wasn't I enough? I gave her everything. Love, loyalty, time, trust. I gave her all of me, and she just laughed. They both laughed at me, humiliated me-"

Avyaan's chest tightens. He doesn't know what to say. So he does the only thing he can, he pulls Rudra into a hug.

Rudra breaks. The sobs come hard and fast, and his hands fall helplessly onto the road beside him. His body shakes in Avyaan's arms as he cries like a child, loud, unfiltered, broken. "She was so cruel, Avyaan," he cries. "She could've just told me she didn't love me. I would've left or I would've worked on myself. But why did she have to cheat? Why did she lie for so long? She made me feel ugly. She said I was good for bed... that's all I was to her."

Avyaan hugs him tighter, tears stinging his own eyes. He blinks them back, helpless. His friend is breaking, and there's nothing he can say to undo the damage.

"You're not ugly, Rudra, you're the best kind of man, loyal, honest, loving. You're a dream to any woman who deserves you."

Rudra slowly pulls away from the hug, looking up at him. "Not anymore. I'm... touched without love. So who would want me now? How could anyone ever choose me again?" His chest rises and falls rapidly as panic begins to return. "And what about mom and dad, Avyaan? What if they find out I was in a physical relationship? What if they... throw me out to-"

"Rudra." Avyaan cuts in gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I know it's hard to believe anything right now, but your parents love you. You always told me how understanding they are. They won't judge you. They'll stand by you. Please trust that."

Rudra wipes his face roughly, his hands shaking. "I should've listened to Abhimaan. He told me something was off. He warned me..." He swallows hard and looks at Avyaan with pleading eyes. "Promise me... promise you won't tell anyone. Not even mom and dad, please, Avyaan. No one."

Avyaan looks at him, his friend, sitting broken on the side of the road, face wet with tears, body trembling in defeat. His throat tightens as he nods. "I promise," he says quietly. "No one will know."

Rudra closes his eyes. A sharp pain shoots through his head and a wave of numbness washes over him. His body, exhausted and overwhelmed, finally gives out. He slumps forward, his limbs too heavy to hold him up any longer.

"Rudra!" Avyaan's voice rises in panic as he catches him, but Rudra doesn't respond, his mind shuts down.

"You're nothing more than a bedwarmer and a luxurious lifestyle on two legs. That's all you've ever been."

"You're fun in bed, Rudra but not the kind of man I'd ever stay with."

Rudra jolted upright from the couch, gasping. His chest heaved as he dragged in ragged breaths, sweat clinging to his skin. His hand shot up to his forehead, wiping it slowly. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to ground himself but there was no peace to be found.

He stood up on unsteady feet, moving as if in a trance. His fingers reached for the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one with slow, trembling hands. His gaze remained fixed ahead. He passed by the nightstand without truly looking, his hand automatically grabbing the photo frame resting there the picture pressed tightly between his fingers.

⚠️ Trigger Warning: Self-Harm

Inside the bathroom, the dim light reflected off the sleek black tiles. He stood in front of the long mirror, the frame clutched against his side. Setting it gently down next to the sink, he looked up at his reflection.

He peeled off the shirt, letting it fall to the floor. His eyes dropped from the reflection of his face to his torso, his chest, his stomach, his entire midsection laced with scars and cuts. Some faded, some recent, tracing jagged lines across his torso. Each one made after Saanvi left. Each one, in his mind, a way to carry the pain he believed he had caused her. A punishment. A release. As if hurting his own skin could somehow balance the guilt of hurting her.

His gaze shifted to the photo beside him her amber eyes looking back at him.

His eyes moved toward the blade lying just next to the frame.

With trembling fingers he picked it up slowly, turning it over once in his palm, then faced the mirror again. He pressed the blade just beneath his chest. A sharp hiss escaped his lips as it sliced through skin. Blood bloomed immediately, sliding down his torso in thin lines.

He closed his eyes. He didn't cry. He just wanted to silence the storm inside. To turn down the screaming chaos in his head.

He lowered the blade and cut again. Then again. Small, deliberate slices that dripped blood onto the black tile floor. The rhythm of it almost distracted him from the ache in his heart where everything else had become numb.

The blade slipped from his fingers, clattering softly as it hit the floor.

- End Trigger Content -

He picked up the photo frame with reddened hands and looked at her face. A single tear slipped down his cheek.

"The last thing I ever wanted, Pearl... was for you to remind me of Anvika."

His legs wobbled as he stepped back. They struck the edge of the bathtub behind him, and he tumbled in with a splash, the cold water soaked him immediately.

"I'm sorry,"

The frame slipped from his hand, landing outside the tub with a soft thud, though his fingers still curled around the edge. The water turned a faint shade of red, swirling around his motionless body. His head tilted back, resting against the cold porcelain. His eyes remained closed, his face soft, like someone falling asleep.

✿✿✿✿✿

"Saanvi?"

Adrika's smile falters as she sees Saanvi entering. Abhiraj and Lorenzo turn their heads toward the door, watching her.

Saanvi steps in slowly. Her face glistens with sweat, and she wipes her forehead with the back of her hand.

Abhiraj and Adrika get up from their seats and approach her.

"Why are you alone? Where's Rudra? He left you by yourself?" Adrika asks with a concerned frown. Saanvi doesn't respond. Her eyes stay lowered.

"Unbelievable," Adrika mutters, turning to Abhiraj. "This is why you trusted him to take her? He was supposed to protect her, and he just leaves-"

"He didn't leave me," Saanvi cut her off, "I came with Vedant."

"Come," Adrika says gently, taking her hand and guiding her toward the couch.

Abhiraj stands still, then sighs and pulls out his phone. He dials Rudra's number and presses the phone to his ear. He doesn't pick up. He dials again, but still no answer. So, he dials Vedant's number.

"Sir," Vedant answers.

"Where's Rudra?"

"He had some things to take care of,"

Abhiraj's gaze settles on the wall as he exhales. "Is he alright?" he asks, more softly this time.

Vedant stays silent for a few seconds. "Yes, sir. He's fine,"

Abhiraj ends the call and stares at his screen for a few seconds.

"Abhi?"

He turns to Adrika, forces a small smile, and walks over to sit beside Lorenzo.

"Saanvi, you're very quiet, beta. Is everything okay?" Adrika asks,

Saanvi swallows hard and gives a small nod. Her throat seems tight.

Lorenzo glances at her, then his eyes randomly fall on the wall decorated with photo frames, Rudra's childhood pictures and many others.

"Who's that?" he asks, pointing to one frame he doesn't recognize.

Adrika follows his gaze and chuckles. She stands, takes the frame from the wall, and returns to the couch. "That's Saanvi. She was nine in this picture. Since she's family now, I added her photo to the rest." She glances at Saanvi warmly.

Lorenzo nods, but his brow furrows as he inspects the frame. "Can I take a look?" he asks. Adrika nods and hands it to him. He studies it for a second, then looks at Saanvi. "This is Saanvi?"

"Yes," Adrika confirms.

Lorenzo looks at the frame again, then turns to Abhiraj.

"Saanvi," he calls. She doesn't respond at first. She's busy rubbing her palms anxiously, lost in thought.

"Saanvi," he says again, slightly louder. She flinches, then looks at him.

"Yes?"

"You're from California, right?"

She nods.

"Would you mind showing me a picture of your mother?" he says, causing a ripple of confusion through the room.

"My mother?" she asks, a bit startled.

He nods again. Saanvi glances at Abhiraj and Adrika, then pulls out her phone and scrolls to a photo and hands it to him, looking away, still preoccupied. Lorenzo takes the phone, examines the photo, then clicks his tongue and looks at her.

"Is she alive?"

She shakes her head.

"How did she die?" he asks, watching her carefully.

Adrika speaks up sharply. "Lorenzo, please. Stop digging into her past like this."

"Car accident." She swallows, curling her toes against the floor.

Lorenzo raises an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"What are you trying to suggest?" Abhiraj's voice hardens slightly.

"I was with her," Saanvi says. "Somehow, I survived, but my mumma didn't. There was a blast. She died on the spot."

Lorenzo studies her for a few seconds, then nods slowly and stands. "Abhiraj, I need to leave." he says, handing the phone back.

Abhiraj also stands. "I'll walk you out."

They step out of the house.

"Saanvi is that kid," Lorenzo says as they walk side by side.

Abhiraj stops. "What are you talking about?"

"Eighteen years ago, Silas and I found a girl on the road in California. Her mother was barely conscious. I called an ambulance, remember? That girl... was Saanvi."

Abhiraj stares at him, stunned. Lorenzo pulls out his phone and dials. "Silas, I just sent you a photo. Take a look." He puts the call on speaker.

"That's her," Silas's voice comes through. "She's the same kid I found that day in California. Where did you find her?"

"She's Saanvi. Rudra's wife," Lorenzo replies.

"You're serious?"

"Yes. Looks like we saved Abhiraj's daughter in law back then," Lorenzo says, smirking at Abhiraj. "Funny how you were so mad at us for helping her that day."

Abhiraj clicks his tongue and looks away.

"Back then, I didn't ask about Alfred because she was in no condition to speak. But maybe now, we can get some answers." Silas suggests.

"Forget Alfred for a second," Lorenzo says, "She needs to be questioned first."

Abhiraj glares. "What the hell are you saying?"

"She's lying."

"About what exactly?"

"Her mother didn't die in a car accident. I saw the car myself, parked outside the factory she took me to. The doors were wide open. Her mother was still alive, covered in blood and bruises. Her clothes were torn. That wasn't an accident. And there was no explosion." He pauses, locking eyes with Abhiraj.

"And most importantly how could she have died on the spot if I was the one who called the ambulance and saw both of them taken to the hospital?"

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