SAANVI'S POV

“I feel like ovulating every time I see you.”

“You’re so beautiful, Rudra.”

“Every time I look at you, I feel like throwing something at you—a chair, a scalpel… sometimes… myself.”

My eyes snap open and I turn slightly, squinting against the morning light pouring through the window. A dull sting throbs at the back of my head. I press my temples and sit up, glancing at the clock. Nine already. Strange, he didn’t wake me for exercise today.

“I want to kiss your lips—”

What the hell? Did my brain just… flash that? Wait did I actually dream about him? A wet dream? No way. That’s disgusting. I would never say something like that in real life. But it felt too real.

“Oh, you’re awake?”

My head jerks toward the door. Rudra strolls in, wearing casual clothes and an apron. He steps close, rests the back of his hand on my forehead, and nods. “Temperature looks fine. Anyway, get ready for the hospital. I made breakfast and hangover soup. You’ll feel better.”

His gaze flickers down to my lips, then lower. My eyes follow instinctively, and sure enough, he’s staring at my chest.

“You pervert.” I scoff, standing up and yanking the comforter. “Stop looking at my chest, you horny menace.”

His brow arches as a laugh slips out. “You’re calling me a horny menace?”

I fold my arms. “Yes.”

“You don’t remember anything from yesterday, do you?” he says, watching me closely. “Strange. You don’t even drink, do you?”

Even I don’t know what the hell possessed me to end up in that club, drinking like an idiot. This was only the second time in my twenty nine years that I’ve touched alcohol. The first was back in university, when I got so wasted I spent the entire night puking my guts out and swore I’d never do it again. Alcohol just isn’t for me, it makes me do stupid, reckless things. And now, I can’t even remember half of what happened last night.

My eyes widen with a sudden thought. “Wait.” I gasp, staring at him. “Did you… take advantage of me last night?”

The humor drains and smiles falter from his face, his expression flattening into something almost wounded. “You think I’d take advantage of you while you were drunk?”

I shrug, “Of course. You’re a man. To be precise, a fuckboy. Who knows? Maybe you saw me drunk and thought, well, since I’m your wife, you could do whatever you wanted.”

His jaw tightens, but his eyes don’t leave mine. “I was. I was a fuckboy. But not a creep. I know I’m far from decent, but I’ve never crossed that line. I’ve never laid a hand on a woman who didn’t want me to. Especially not someone drunk. I knew you didn’t trust me. I just didn’t realize you thought this low of me but maybe I shouldn’t be surprised. You don’t trust me with anything. Not even with yourself for one night when you were vulnerable.” He exhales, shakes his head once, and turns away. “Get ready for work.”

I frown at the door long after it shuts. Did I just… hurt him?

Shaking my head, I drag myself into the bathroom. After a shower and the usual routine, I slip into my clothes and stop at the vanity, staring at my reflection.

“I can’t fix centuries of tradition. I can’t change every man in this country. But I can choose the kind of man I want to be.”

His words echo back to me. I sigh softly. No. He would never do that to me. Deep down, I know it, because not once since the day we met have I ever felt unsafe around him.

Why do I always realize things too late when it comes to him?

I finish my makeup and head to the kitchen.

I find him leaning against the dining table, arms folded, his expression blank as he stares down at nothing. He looks like he’s miles away, lost in thought, until his eyes suddenly lift and lock onto mine. He straightens and forces a small smile, pulling out a chair for me. “Have a seat.”

I sit, and he sets a bowl of soup in front of me.

“Still hurting?” he asks, lowering into the chair beside me, resting his cheek against his fist while watching me.

“A little.” I sip the soup. It’s warm, just right not too hot. He must have checked the temperature. My eyes flick to him. “Aren’t you eating?”

He blinks, and then suddenly a big smile spreads across his face. “Don’t worry. I already had breakfast.”

Liar. He never eats without me. And why does he look so damn happy all of a sudden?

I finish the soup, feeling his eyes on me the entire time.

Suddenly, I hear a bark. My head snaps toward the sound. My face lights up. “Brownie!”

I spring to my feet as he runs in. I crouch, arms wide, and he leaps into them. “Were you missing me, baby?” I smother him with kisses, his tail wagging furiously.

Behind me, Rudra lets out a snort. I turn to see Rudra watching us, his arms folded, wearing an exaggerated look of pity. He steps closer, crouching just enough to level his gaze at Brownie. “So sad, your so called mom cheated on you with another dog.”

I glare. “A smack on your face might help you find the brain you left lying around somewhere.”

Brownie tilts his head in confusion, glancing between us.

Smirking, he whips out his phone. After a few taps, he shoves the screen in front of Brownie. My stomach drops. A photo of me holding a cute black pup, kissing him with a big smile.

Brownie tilts his head, then turns to me.

“No—Brownie, I can explain—” My voice rises in panic. Brownie jumps from my arms, shoots me one last betrayed look, and trots away.

“Brownie, baby, I swear I didn’t cheat on you! It’s not what it looks like!” I rush after him, blocking his path, but he trots right past me. “He’s trying to turn us against each other, please understand!”

But he sulks, barking once before padding out of the room.

Oh my poor baby…What did I do? How could I kiss another pup while my Brownie was waiting at home? I’m a terrible woman.

“Poor Brownie. He’s hurt.”

Grinding my teeth, I march back to Rudra, grab his collar, and yank him. “Shut up! You staged this whole scene!” I push him back a little, frustrated. “My baby is heartbroken.”

“Aww,” he murmurs, and wraps his arms around me. His hand pats my back softly, like he’s comforting a child. His scent hits me instantly, warm and familiar. I want to hold on tighter, my arms itch to wrap around him, to pull him closer, to rest against his chest, lean into him, stay here. But I shove him off.

“Let’s go. We’re late for the hospital.” I snatch my bag and storm toward the door.

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

“Ugh, this traffic.” I sigh, drumming my fingers against my thigh as I stare at the endless line of cars ahead. “It’s maddening.”

“Not for me.” I glance sideways. Rudra’s relaxed, one hand resting on the steering wheel. “I’m happy I get to sit with you for a little longer.”

“Well, that’s exactly why I’m frustrated.” I turn to the window, refusing to look at him.

“Wow. And here I thought we were bonding. Growing closer, even.” he says with mock offense.

“Yeah. Closer to insanity.”

“So you’re saying I’m driving you crazy?” His grin spreads.

“Yes.” My gaze snaps back to him. “In the worst way possible.”

He leans back in his seat. “It’s fine, I can wait. After reading those stories with you, I realized slow burn romances are the best.”

“This isn’t slow burn.” My eyes narrow. “This is slow torture.”

“And yet, you’re still here. Sitting next to me. Breathing the same air—”

I press the button, rolling down the car window before he can finish.

He scoffs. “Did you just attempt to remove me from your oxygen supply?”

“I’m this close to cutting you off from existence.”

His lips curl into that infuriating smile. “Ah, enemies to lovers. My favorite trope.”

“It’s just enemies,” I snap. “There’s no ‘to lovers.’”

He shrugs. “Okay. But I’m sure if I disappeared from your life, you’d miss me. You’d cry. Beg me to come back. Something dramatic like—” Before I can roll my eyes, he presses a hand to his chest dramatically and screws his face into a ridiculous expression. “‘Please, Rudra, come back to me. I’m missing you so much. I can’t stand this without you. I need you.’” he mocks, even swiping at imaginary tears.

“No. I’d celebrate. I’d throw a party. Fireworks, cake—the whole thing.” I yawn for emphasis.

“The whole thing,” He tilts his head, feigning thoughtfulness. “I bet the cake would be shaped like my face.” He throws me a wink.

“Yeah. So I can cut it first.”

His laughter fills the car, warm and unguarded. For a second, I just stared. His smile. I’ve always despised it, because it was smug, arrogant, mocking and unbearable. At least that’s what I used to tell myself. But now, watching him, I can’t help but see how beautiful it is. Maybe that’s what love does. It changes the way you look at a person until even the smallest thing feels extraordinary.

In love, you always stumble upon that one smile, the kind that feels like it doesn’t just belong to a face but to an entire universe. A smile so disarming it makes the heart forget its rhythm, thumping harder, louder. And as I watch him now, I realize mine is doing exactly that. It’s thumping so hard it feels almost alive in a new way, as if it finally remembers what it was made for.

Finally, the traffic clears. He shifts gears smoothly and drives us toward the hospital.

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

“Any other problems you’ve been noticing?” I ask while scribbling on the prescription pad, glancing at the patient. He shakes his head.

“Make sure he takes this whenever the pain hits,” I instruct the staff member beside me, handing her the sheet.

Turning, I found Naina waiting nearby. “More rounds?” I ask. She glances up from her tablet and shakes her head. I nod, walking out of the ward with my file and pen.

On the way, I glance at the charts clipped to beds, checking conditions as I pass. “Why didn’t Vidya come for her checkup?” I ask absently, not hearing an answer. When I turn, Naina isn’t behind me. My brows crease, scanning the corridor until I see her.

She’s standing with Vedant. Is he bothering her again? But then she smiles. He says something that makes her blush, and she playfully smacks his chest. My confusion deepens. What the hell is going on with her?

A few moments later, she waves goodbye to him and bounces over to me, happiness written all over her face.

I just stand there, staring. She freezes under my gaze, her hand pressed to her chest. “Ma’am, can you please not look at me like you’re about to eat me alive?”

Rolling my eyes, I turn and walk back toward my cabin. She follows quickly.

“Looks like you’re getting along with Vedant,” I say, pushing my door open, sitting behind my desk as she stops in front of me with that ridiculous smile.

“Yes,” she answers simply.

I let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Unbelievable, Naina. Did you forget what he did? He insulted you. And now, a little manipulation and you forgive him? You’ll get hurt again. He doesn’t deserve your forgiveness. You don’t deserve that kind of pain.”

She takes a slow breath. “I know, ma’am. What he did… he shouldn’t have.”

I lean back, relieved at least she acknowledges that. I nod. “Good. As long as you realize that.”

“But,” she continues, “I’ve also realized something. He’s been putting in effort just to talk to me. Even when I push him away, even when I say things to hurt him, he stays. He doesn’t give up.”

I laugh under my breath. “So this is about effort? Come on, Naina. After screwing up, what else is he supposed to do?”

She nods slowly. “Yes, after messing up, he’s supposed to apologize, chase me, and prove himself. That’s the bare minimum. I know that. And I’m not saying it makes him some saint just because he’s trying now. But I can acknowledge the fact that he’s at least consistent in it. It shows me something, not that he’s flawless, but that he’s not giving up the moment it’s uncomfortable.”

I watch her, still unconvinced. She takes a breath. “You know, I’ve been thinking about it a lot. I’ve known Vedant since school. He was quiet, shy and very reserved. He was mocked, students bullied him, sometimes even beat him up. He’s always been sensitive in ways people don’t see. And that doesn’t excuse the way he acted with me, it doesn’t make it right but it helps me understand the fear behind it. When he saw Abhinav kiss me, he jumped to conclusions. He thought I was just another person ready to humiliate him, in his mind, he thought I loved Abhinav. He thought I was also playing him. He didn’t want to be humiliated or tricked again. So he pulled away first, in a very hurtful way. It wasn’t fair to me, but it makes sense in his head.”

She shakes her head faintly, almost at herself. “I’m not excusing it. I know exactly how badly it hurt me. And yes, I could walk away and I’d have every right to. But the truth is, I don’t want to. Because when I strip it all down, I love him. That’s the difference. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t even be having this conversation. That doesn’t mean pretending he didn’t mess up or that I should forget it. It means I’m willing to see if he can actually grow past it.”

Her voice softens. “You don’t give chances to people you don’t love. That would be pointless. But if you do love them, if you see them making the effort to confront their mistakes, if you can understand where the hurt came from, then maybe it’s worth risking that chance. Otherwise, what am I waiting for? Time won’t pause for me to sort it all out. So I don’t want to be late.”

"Late?" I ask.

She nods. "The person we love can wait for us an eternity, but time doesn’t. I don’t want to risk letting go, what if something happens today, and in the future I regret it? What if I crave to come back to this very moment, just to give the chance I didn’t?"

Hearing her, Rudra suddenly comes to my mind. Sometimes I yearn to hug him too, to be like we were before.

“I’m not fixing him. My effort is simply allowing him the space to prove who he is now, not who he was when he hurt me. And if he fails, that’s on him. But at least I’ll know I didn’t shut the door out of pride or fear.”

“But why do you have to put in effort, Naina? It’s not your place,” I argue.

“It wouldn’t be if I didn’t love him,” she answers. “But I do. And it is my choice. I’m not sacrificing myself, I’m simply opening the door and saying, ‘Show me you’re worth it.’ That’s all.”

A knock sounds at the door. I take a slow breath, swallowing before answering. “Come in.”

The door opens, and there he is. Rudra. White roses in his hand, as always. I rise from my chair before I even realize I’m moving.

“Good morning, Mr. Singhania,” Naina says with her bright smile.

He glances at her, offering a polite nod. “Good morning.” His eyes return to me as he walks to my desk and stops there, he looks at Naina again, “You look unusually happy today, Miss Sharma,” he says with a quiet chuckle.

She lowers her gaze, swaying a little on her feet. “It’s… actually, me and Vedant are together.”

“Oh, congratulations.” he says with genuine warmth.

“Thank you, Mr. Singhania.” She beams, then looks between us. “I’ll leave you two alone for a while.” She slips out, closing the door behind her.

Rudra holds out the bouquet. I step around my chair and take the flowers from him, staring down at the white petals in my hand. I don’t want to throw them this time.

“The person we love can wait for us an eternity, but time doesn’t.”

Naina’s words echo in my head. With a shake of my head, I walk past him and drop the bouquet straight into the bin. When I turn back, he’s watching me with that same patient expression, almost like he expected it. He exhales softly, then pulls a journal.

I stare at it. That journal again. What does he even write in it every day? Where does he find the time for this ritual? The thought irritates me.

“I don’t want to,” I say flatly.

He nods once and tucks it back.

My phone buzzes, saving me from the silence between us. I snatch it from the desk. Dhruv’s name flashes on the screen, and I answer quickly.

“Di!”

“How are you?” I ask, smiling.

“I’m good. What about you? Your health, everything okay?”

“Yes,” I assure him.

“Di, I wanted to tell you my concert is finally fixed. Next week, in New York. Even Shaurya’s coming. You’ll come too, right?” His voice brims with hope, and my chest tightens. How do I tell him about everything else that’s going on?

“That’s really great, Dhruv. I’m so proud of you. As for me… I’ll let you know. Things are a little busy right now.”

He sighs into the line. “I really want you to be there. It would mean everything to me.”

“I’ll do my best. I promise,”

“I know. Love you, Di.”

“Same.” I whisper before hanging up.

“What happened?” Rudra steps closer, standing beside me.

I sigh. “Dhruv’s concert is next week. In New York.”

He lifts a brow. “That sounds like good news. Why do you look so sad?”

“Because he wants me to be there. And I want to go. But with everything happening right now, I don’t know if I can.”

“You want to go?” he asks, meeting my eyes.

I nod.

“Then we’ll go.”

I blink at him. “What?”

“Don’t worry,” he adds, smiling. “We’ll have security. Yashwant won’t touch you while I’m breathing beside you. He can’t do anything.”

A small smile tugs at my lips before I can stop it. The thought of actually being at Dhruv’s concert watching him on stage, cheering for him warms me in a way I haven’t felt in months.

Rudra’s phone buzzes. He glances at it, then slips it back into his pocket. “Okay. I’ll get back to work. Take care.”

Before leaving, he reaches out and pats my cheek, just once, then turns and starts to walk away.

“Wait.” I call out, making him stop. He turns back to me.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“Cartel.”

“Did they get something about Saarth?” I press.

He nods. “Also, there are some plans that need to be made.”

“I’ll go with you,”

His brows draw together. “You?”

I nod. I can’t sit in the dark anymore. Every single one of them decides what I should or shouldn’t know, and I’m supposed to just accept it. But Saarth came after me. He dragged me into this mess, and they’re all still hiding things as if I don’t have the right to understand why.

He hesitates. “But what about your surgeries?”

“Don’t worry about that. I can handle it.” No matter how many excuses they come up with, I refuse to keep living under a veil where I have no idea what is happening.

He exhales slowly, resigning. “Okay.”

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

He enters the passcode, and we step inside the cartel. The room smells faintly of coffee and electronics, tension thick in the air. Mr. Wilson, Kabir, Avyaan, and Abhimaan are already here.

They look at us.

“Doctor? Tum yahan bhi?” (You’re here too?) Kabir says, tilting his head.

“Tumhe kya?” (So what?) I reply, raising an eyebrow.

He just shakes his head and turns to Rudra, eyes wide. “Rudra! Bro! Big revelation for you.” Kabir locks his arms around Rudra in a embrace, sticking close. My brows knit together as I watch him, hands lingering a little too long. Why the hell does he always stick so close? Is he… attracted to Rudra?

“Tell me clearly,” Rudra says, pushing Kabir’s hands away.

Kabir sighs, shrugging. “Well… Saarth is Yashwant’s son.”

“What?” Rudra and I say it in unison. Kabir nods.

“Yes. I found out. He’s Yashwant’s son actually, his secret son. Yashwant was with Saarth’s mother but never married her. Later, he married another woman and had Tapish, the only one publicly acknowledged as his heir. But to maintain his image in the media, he never accepted Saarth as his own.”

“Even after all that, Saarth is still with Yashwant?” Rudra asks.

Kabir nods. “Because Yashwant gives him whatever he needs. Saarth knows if he goes against Yashwant, he’s on the street. Yashwant holds all the power.”

“What about Saarth’s mother?” I ask.

“She isn’t alive,” Kabir replies.

I shake my head, disbelief making my stomach twist. “How could he stay with his father after knowing what he did? After all the betrayal?”

“Well… some men simply don’t give a fuck about cheating,” Abhimaan scoffs softly, bitter, I glance at him. He’s definitely hurt. I can see it in the tight line of his jaw, the way his fingers flex and unclench. “Anyway, let’s get back to strategy,” he says, shifting his attention to Rudra and Avyaan.

AUTHOR'S POV

“Oh hey, Rudra!”

Saanvi’s head turns to see Clarencia walking toward them. Before Saanvi can process, Clarencia throws her arms around Rudra.

Saanvi’s eyes narrow, piercing the sight. Rudra closes his eyes briefly and pushes Clarencia back with a steady hand. “You can greet me without hugging,” he says evenly.

Clarencia raised her brows, her gaze sliding toward Saanvi. Saanvi stares at her, her knuckles itching with the urge to slam that face into the wall.

“Oh hi, Saanvi. Didn’t notice you. What’s up?” Clarencia smiles.

She doesn’t answer just breathes in sharply instead.

Kabir steps in, “Clare, how many times do we have to tell you? You’re supposed to chase this unexpressio,” he says, pointing toward Avyaan. “Not Rudra. He’s already booked.”

Clarencia glances at Rudra, then at Avyaan, who stares at her blankly. “Don’t even think about that,” he says coldly.

“You’re leaving?” Abhimaan asks.

She nods. “The rescue operation is done, so my work is done too. After all, the main part is always handled by you four. So all credit goes to you all. In this cartel, the place Eira Ravelle is just… to rescue.” Her voice edges toward bitterness.

“Stop playing the victim card and just leave,” Avyaan mutters, rolling his eyes.

Saanvi frowns at his harshness, but before she can speak, Abhimaan interjects. “Clare, it isn’t like that. You’re equally important here.”

She offers him a small smile, the first genuine expression she’s shown. “Thank you,” she says, then with a nod to the room, “Anyway, I’ll go.” She turns and walks out.

Saanvi’s attention immediately shifts back to Rudra standing beside her. “Is this what you do when your wife stops noticing you, sniffing around other women like some cheap, attention starved dog?”

His eyes flash with a sting of hurt before he quickly covers it, mouth twitching into a small side smile. “Are you jealous, Pearl?”

Her temper snaps. She steps closer, fisting his collar in one swift motion. “Don’t test me.”

The sudden movement triggers a ripple through the room. In seconds, security staff stationed nearby raised their guns, barrels pointed in unison aimed at Saanvi.

Rudra lifts his hands immediately. His voice drops with authority. “One scratch on her, and I’ll personally drag you all to hell.” he warns, his eyes sweeping the guards, “Put the guns down.”

The order hit its mark. In seconds, the weapons lowered.

“Are you seriously protecting her?” Avyaan asks, “She just humiliated you in front of the entire cartel without a second thought.” His blue piercing eyes landed on Saanvi.

Her lips curled into a slow, mocking smile. “And what, Avyaan? The best friend is upset because I embarrassed his golden boy?”

Avyaan’s expression darkens. “You better watch your mouth, Saanvi. I am not Rudra. I won’t tolerate an insufferable, self righteous woman like you. I would rather put a bullet through your head than deal with your delusional arrogance.”

Rudra’s jaw tightens. “Avyaan, fucking mind your wo—”

Saanvi steps closer to Avyaan, “Calling me an insufferable woman? If you were my husband, you’d be six feet under by now, because I do not babysit misogynistic men.” She scoffed, letting her gaze sweep over the four members,“In fact, you four, you’re nothing but a walking, breathing, ego driven mess of outdated patriarchal trash. I sincerely hope each of you finds a woman who matches your rotten personalities, one who makes sure you suffer.” Her gaze locks onto Avyaan. “And you, Mr. Rosso, I pray you end up with a woman who despises men just as much as you despise women. Someone who actually knows how to put you in your damn place.”

She turns her eyes on Rudra. “And one already has. Just to put him in his place.”

Rudra lets out a low chuckle, tilting his head as he studies her. “Never thought I’d enjoy a feminist this much.” he leans back slightly, arms crossed loosely over his chest, lips curved in a subtle, almost predatory smile as he watches Saanvi unleash her fury. Her eyes blaze with fury, teeth gritted, finger jabbing Avyaan. He doesn’t move to stop her at least, not yet and he’s more than willing to sit back and savor every moment of her proving it.

Abhimaan casts a wary glance, sensing the tension teetering on the edge of violence. He was about to step in when Kabir grabs his arm, holding him back with a firm grip. “Relax, man.” he murmurs, smirking. “It’s been days since we had a free live action drama.”

Avyaan leans back with a dry, humorless scoff. “You’re all bark, doctor. A spoiled brat who thinks she’s untouchable.”

Saanvi narrows her eyes, “Better keep your tongue in check Avyaan, or I won’t hesitate to cut it out. In fact, cutting out your tongue might actually be doing your future wife a favor. At least she wouldn’t have to suffer through your bullshit.” She shakes her head, almost in pity. “You know what? I actually feel sorry for her already. She’ll have to endure your archaic, brain rotting ideology. Though if she has half a spine, she’ll shove a knife down your throat the second you open that sexist mouth of yours.”

Avyaan only stares back at her lazily.

“Believe me, Avyaan. If I had met you earlier, I would’ve either taught you some moral values… or put a bullet between your eyes for daring to speak to me like that.”

Kabir smirks, “Yeah, I’m with you, doctor.”

Saanvi doesn’t look away from Avyaan. “One day, you’ll kneel.”

He arches a brow. “Excuse me?”

“Who knows, maybe somewhere in this world there’s a woman made to bring you to your knees. And when that day comes, trust me, I’ll savor the sight more than anyone.”

Avyaan slips his hands into his pockets, “Done?” He tilts his head, studying her with a trace of mockery. “Let me save you the trouble of dreaming, Miss High Morals. No woman has that kind of power over me and none ever will. I don’t hand over my pride and I sure as hell don’t kneel. Remember that.”

Rudra and Abhimaan exchange a small, knowing smirk, their eyes flicking toward Avyaan. He notices immediately and his jaw tightens, fists clenches before his gaze snaps back to Saanvi.

“And let’s circle back to how you just humiliated him. In case it slipped your mind Saanvi, let me remind you, you’re not a victim anymore. The second you started playing with his feelings, it changed everything. At least Rudra had his reasons for the things he did. You? You lashed out out of anger and revenge. Fine. That’s your choice, you were hurt too. But don’t expect to be treated the same after that. Keep taking him for granted, and trust me, you’ll regret it.”

Saanvi lets out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Me? Regret? Ask your friend. I’ve pushed him, insulted him, broken him down more times than I can count and still, he doesn’t leave, he still chases. So tell me, Avyaan, who will really regret?” Her smile twists into mockery.

Avyaan studies her in silence, then shakes his head. “Is that so? Then I also hope that one day, Rudra stops mistaking your cruelty for charm, Saanvi. I hope he stops loving you, stops seeing you as the center of his world, erases you from his life, lets go of every memory, every hope, every fragment of himself that belonged to you, and moves on as if you were never there at all.”

Her mocking smile falters. For a brief, terrifying second, she feels her heart drop, as if something vital inside her has been wrenched. Her thoughts spiral, what would it feel like to see him walking past, indifferent, eyes no longer tracing her every move, gestures no longer carrying that silent care she had come to expect. What if the flowers stop arriving? What if the journal is no longer pushed toward her? What if he simply stops caring? She imagines the hospital hallways, endless and sterile, stripped of the subtle intimacy she had taken for granted.

And then the cruelest thought comes, sharper than the rest, what if she has to see him laughing, truly alive, with someone else? A smile that once belonged to her alone now shared, and she is reduced to a spectator. Even imagining it makes her chest constrict. She always thought she could manipulate his love, bend it like a river around stones, but now she realizes rivers can dry, and stones can shift.

“Avyaan, enough.” Rudra steps between them with warning. “You’re crossing a line. Apologize to her.”

Avyaan blinks, like the absurdity amuses him. “Apologize? To her? Me? You seriously think my brain is malfunctioning?” His tone sharpens, laced with disdain. “You’re a disgrace to men. She drags you through the mud in front of an entire cartel, and you still crawl back. Pathetic. Tell me, where exactly did you bury your self respect?”

He clicks his tongue. “Pathetic? Without a doubt. I’d still crawl back to her even if she slit my throat. Hell, I’d kiss the same hands that cut me down and call it a privilege.”

Saanvi’s head jerks toward him, stunned into silence.

“Jesus Christ,” Avyaan mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose, “If I were the manager, I’d personally eject you from this cartel and file a missing persons report for your dignity.”

Rudra shrug, “But you’re not. So shut up.”

Avyaan takes a step forward. “Here’s your reality check, Rudra, you call it love, but it’s desperation. She doesn’t love you. She just hasn’t figured out how to get rid of you yet. You’re her unwanted shadow. And trust me, shadows disappear the second the light changes.”

Rudra’s jaw tightens, his silence giving away how much the words sting. Avyaan’s always had a talent for cutting deep, and he knows it.

Avyaan lets his gaze flick between them both. “And let me make one thing crystal clear, don’t even think about ganging up on me. I don’t lose arguments, especially not to idiots who peak in middle school and never graduate to functioning adults. You’re both barely coherent enough to be considered a nuisance, let alone a challenge and your story isn’t some Romeo and Juliet fantasy, you two are a cautionary tale waiting to happen.”

Abhimaan steps in finally, yanking his arm away from Kabir’s grip and planting himself firmly between them. “Enough. Both of you back off.”

Rudra glares at Avyaan.

“Khalid,” Abhimaan calls, and he immediately steps forward. “Take Saanvi home. Safely.”

Khalid nods once. Saanvi grits her teeth, casting one last glare at Avyaan before moving past him, Khalid close behind.

“I didn’t know they had this… dynamic,” a voice observes, and they all turn to see Lorenzo leaning against the doorframe of the weapon room.

“So, you enjoyed the show too?” Kabir chuckles,

Lorenzo’s gaze slides to Avyaan. “Eighteen years ago, when I first met her, I thought, if fate ever gave me a chance, I’d marry you off to her.”

“What the fuck, Dad!” Avyaan snaps.

“What the fuck, Uncle!” Rudra echoes, equally incredulous.

Lorenzo shrugs at Rudra, an easy smile playing on his lips. “I didn’t know you’d marry her? She looked cute as a kid, so I was shipping her with Avyaan. But now? I think destiny saved my son.”

Rudra rolls his eyes unimpressed. Avyaan looks away, shaking his head. “Your choice in women is… questionable,” he mutters.

Lorenzo’s lips curve slightly. “Careful. Just because Ella is your mother doesn’t mean she’ll let you off easy. You know how she is.”

“That’s why I love Ella Aunty,” Kabir blurts with a small grin.

Lorenzo raises an eyebrow at him. “It’s Snigdha for you, Kabir. Not Ella. How many times do I have to drill this into your head?”

“Come on, Uncle, you know the truth,” Kabir continues, rubbing the back of his neck and glancing down to hide his blush. “I liked her when I was a kid… and, uh… I might still like her a little. Maybe a lot. Definitely a lot.”

“Find a woman your own age, Kabir. Leave my wife out of it.” Lorenzo scoffs, shaking his head, and strides back toward his work.

✿✿✿✿✿

Concert Day | New York

Saanvi steps off the private jet, squinting against the harsh sunlight. The heat hits her skin, leaving it warm, almost burning. She frowns, adjusting her sunglasses, and takes a steadying breath.

Rudra walks beside her, phone pressed to his ear, dressed in a crisp white shirt tucked into light grey trousers and polished boots that click against the tarmac. His matching grey blazer hangs over his forearm. He ends the call, tucks the phone away, and glances at her.

“It’s 11:00 a.m. right now,” he says, checking his Rolex before meeting her gaze again. “Concert’s at seven, so we’ve got time.”

“Shaurya said he’d come meet me,” she replies, fanning herself with a hand.

Rudra closes his eyes briefly, frustration tightening his jaw. He shifts to shield her from the sun, blocking her with his body. “You’ll see him at the concert. Why does he need to meet you beforehand? Honestly, if I’d known that idiot would be there too, I would have seriously never brought you here.” he scoffs, stopping by the car and opening the door for her.

Saanvi shoots him a sharp glare. “Words, Rudra. Shaurya is my friend. You can’t insult him like that,” she snaps, sliding into the seat.

Rudra clenches his fists, takes a deep breath, and walks around to the other side, sliding in. The driver starts the car.

They rest in the hotel for a while, freshen up, and get ready before heading toward the concert venue. But with hours still left until the performance, Rudra books a nearby hotel room so they can wait in comfort.

Saanvi steps inside first, kicking off her heels as she crosses to the bed. She sinks into it with a soft sigh, lying back against the pillows. Rudra follows, closing the door behind them. His eyes drift to her as he checks the time on his watch, and a small, smile touches his lips. He pulls a strip of tablets from his pocket.

“Take your medicines,” he says, handing her a sealed bottle of water.

She pushes herself upright and looks at him. He has changed into a pale blue shirt, the first few buttons left undone, sleeves rolled up to his forearms. Navy trousers fit neatly, polished boots finishing the look. Her gaze lingers on his collarbone to the lipstick tattoo, clearly visible. The sight makes her look away quickly as she takes the medicine and bottle.

“Don’t you feel embarrassed with that tattoo? It’s… visible,” she asks.

He chuckles, “Not at all. If anything, carrying my wife’s mark just makes me look hotter.”

Her hand slips mid sip, water spilling across her top. Her eyes widen as the fabric darkens, and heat rushes to her cheeks. Rudra quickly, takes the bottle from her before more spills.

She jumps to her feet, tugging at her damp clothes in mild horror.

“I didn’t think you’d react like this,” he says, shaking his head with an amused smile.

“Shut up. My hand just slipped,” she mutters, “But how am I supposed to go there like this?” Her voice rises with concern as she tugs at the fabric.

“Don’t worry. There’s a showroom downstairs. I’ll buy you something new. Wait here.”

“No. I don’t trust your fashion sense,” she says, wrinkling her nose.

“Trust me, pearl,” he replies, “I know your taste. I won’t disappoint. Just wait here.” He smiles before leaving.

It’s some time before he returns, knocking once before stepping inside. Saanvi turns from the window, her frown deepening when she sees him carrying three bags. He sets them on the bed and hands them to her.

She hesitates, slowly taking the handles, uncertainty written on her face.

“Go change,” he says, nodding toward the bathroom.

Her eyes stay on him for a moment, before she finally carries the bags inside.

She comes back wearing the outfit he picked.



(SAANVI'S OUTFIT)

He looks up from his phone and freezes for a moment. The corners of his mouth lift into a slow, almost incredulous smile as his eyes take her in. “You like it?” he asks, though his voice carries a tone of quiet awe, like he can’t quite believe how perfect she looks. He leans back just a fraction, resting against the couch, as if he needs a second to process her.

She clicks her tongue. “You bought new boots,” she says, lifting her left leg to show him. “And a new bag too. Why?” She lifts the bag slightly. “What was the need?” Her brows draw together in a frown.

“It was necessary,” he shrugs. “Everything should match.”

“And a bra too?” she asks, rolling her eyes while shifting her makeup and products into the new bag. “I didn’t know you knew so much about bra.”

He watches her apply lip gloss. “Of course I do. I have a wife now. I need to know the basics especially for situations like this. Your outfit needed a plunge bra for the neckline. I wouldn’t let you make a fashion mistake.”

She glances at him in the mirror, shakes her head, but a slow smile creeps onto her lips. The outfit feels light and comfortable, perfect for the climate and she can’t help but notice he made sure to pick a breathable, airy top.

“Want to eat something? Concert’s in a few hours,” he asks.

She stands, finishing her makeup, meeting his gaze. “Looking beautiful, as always.” He steps toward her, takes her knuckles gently in his hand, and presses a soft kiss to them.

She bites back a smile, pressing her lips together, trying to keep herself composed.

“Let’s go eat something,” he says, gesturing toward the door. She nods, and they leave together.

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

Down in the café after eating, they sit, the quiet clinking of cutlery and murmurs of other customers around them.

Saanvi’s gaze shifts across the café and suddenly her eyes catch on a familiar figure. Her lips curve into a wide smile before she even realizes it. She pushes her chair back and rises quickly. Rudra frowns, confused, watching her as she steps away from the table.

“Shaurya!” she calls out, her voice bright with excitement.

Rudra stands slowly, turning to follow her line of sight. Shaurya stops and looks up, his face breaking into a broad smile the second he sees her. Saanvi runs forward and throws herself into his arms. He catches her easily, laughing, and twirling her slightly, her feet lift from the ground.

Rudra watches, his expression flattening. The easy charm in his face fades as he takes in the sight of her, her laughter, the glow in her eyes, the way she clings to Shaurya like she has been waiting for this moment.

She’s never hugged me like that. The thought presses into his mind.

He notices how naturally she locks her arm with Shaurya’s when they start walking back toward the table. His gaze falls to their joined hands, and for a second it feels like something sharp tears through his chest. He turns away abruptly and sits back down.

“We’ll go together, okay Shaurya?” Saanvi’s voice rings out behind him. They approach the table.

Rudra glances up. Shaurya meets his eyes briefly before turning back to Saanvi.

“By the way, you’re looking handsome,” she teases with a laugh, sliding back into her chair. Shaurya takes the seat next to her.

“You’re looking pretty too,” he replies warmly, smiling at her.

Rudra shifts in his seat, a strange discomfort settling in his chest. He rubs his palm against his thigh under the table, trying to ease the tension.

She finds him handsome. The words echo again in his head.

He studies Shaurya more closely, the bright, polite smile, the white T-shirt paired with blue jeans. The kind of simple look that somehow works effortlessly.

And then Rudra realizes with a sting of irritation that Saanvi is dressed in a similar palette. They’re unintentionally twinning, and he feels like the odd one out. He curses himself quietly for choosing her outfit earlier, for unknowingly making her look like she belongs at Shaurya’s side instead of his. Keeping his gaze low, he stays silent.

Suddenly he pushes back his chair and stands.

“What's wrong?” Saanvi asks, frowning at his abruptness.

“My phone. I left it in the room,” he says simply, not meeting her eyes. Without another word, he turns and walks away.

Saanvi watches his retreating figure, her brows knitting tighter.

“Is he alright?” Shaurya asks.

“I don’t know,” she murmurs, still staring at the spot where Rudra disappeared.

In the lobby, Rudra spots Khalid sitting on the couch with a magazine. Khalid rises the moment he notices him.

“Keep your eyes on her. Make sure she’s safe,” Rudra says, tipping his head slightly toward the café.

Khalid gives a silent nod.

Rudra walks into the room and spots his phone on the couch. Just as he picks it up, a call from one of his business staff flashes across the screen. He answers, while stepping out into the upper lobby. Resting a hand on the railing, he glances down at the open space below. Through the tall glass of the café, his eyes settle on Saanvi and Shaurya, still seated together.

“Yeah… I’ll ask Dad to send the documents,” he mutters, still watching them through the glass, before hanging up in silence.

______________________________________________________________________________