All were left speechless—except Madhuri.
Ever the tactician, she stepped forward with a gentle tilt of her head and a well-rehearsed look of confusion. "Aarav… what are you saying?" she asked softly. "You called off the marriage? But you loved Arundhati so dearly." A heavy sigh escaped her lips before she continued, her voice laced with false empathy. "You must've had no choice, right? I can't even imagine how disappointed you must be… how much it must've hurt to make such a painful decision."
On the surface, it sounded like concern.
But underneath, it was bait.
She wanted answers. Why would a spoiled, thrill-seeking boy like Aarav agree to marry a girl from a lower-class family? And more importantly—why end it now? But she couldn't ask him directly, not in front of the upper-class guests. So, she carefully framed her words, subtly casting Aarav as the heartbroken victim and Arundhati as the hidden offender.
A brilliant move.
This way, the Trivedis wouldn't lose face in society. Her carefully chosen words also reinforced the class divide—reminding everyone present who truly belonged and who didn't. And if she showed public support to her nephew during a "difficult time," perhaps he'd remember her loyalty when it came time to divide the inheritance.
Only two people in the room saw through her act completely.
Aarav looked at her blankly, unmoved. Kailashnath's stare, however, burned with irritation.
As murmurs spread and silence turned awkward, guests quietly began to take their leave, the tension lingering behind like smoke.
---
Later that night, the Trivedi mansion was quieter—but only on the surface.
Aarav, freshly showered and dressed in party clothes, looked every bit the careless heir with no consequences. Just as he adjusted his collar in the mirror, Kailashnath burst into the room.
One glance at his son's nonchalance, and fury took over.
"You're coming with me to Arundhati's house," he ordered. "You will marry her—tonight."
Aarav didn't even blink. "Mr. Kailashnath," he said, voice cool and dismissive, "I'm legally an adult. Who I choose to marry isn't up to you. Don't stress over things you can't control. Chill a little, will you? I've got a party waiting."
Kailashnath slammed the door shut behind him.
"You think I'll let you walk out after what you did to that girl?" he roared.
Aarav's lips curled into a smirk. "You can worry about that poor girl later. But for now…"
He strolled to a side table, covered with a red cloth. With a flourish, he pulled it off.
Underneath were tightly sealed white packets—dozens of them.
"You might want to focus on this first. Someone tipped off the Narcotics Department about 25 kilos of drugs hidden in the Trivedi mansion. They're already on the move." He shot his father a grin. "Handle it, Mr. Kailashnath. I'm off."
And with that, he left.
Kailashnath stood stunned. For a moment, his mind raced, trying to make sense of the chaos.
Rishi—Madhuri's son—rushed forward, inspecting the table. He bent down, picked up a packet, and sniffed it cautiously. Then, on a hunch, he tore it open slightly and tasted it.
"Sugar," he said after a beat. "It's all sugar."
Kailashnath's jaw clenched. "Aarav… you will not escape this," he muttered, voice low and seething. "Play your games, Aarav. But you'll answer to the mess you've made—of that girl's life, of this family's name. You won't run forever."
Without another word, he and Rishi stormed out in search of Aarav.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, Arundhati's parents arrived at the Trivedi mansion.
---
The Next Morning
It was Arundhati's first day in the Trivedi household as the new daughter-in-law. By tradition, she was expected to cook the morning meal for the entire family, while the rest would gather at the table.
In the kitchen, the early bustle had begun. Workers swept and scrubbed the floors while Arundhati moved between stoves and counters with practiced grace. Her movements were quiet but steady—focused.
Then came the click of heels.
Madhuri entered with a somber expression, but her eyes gleamed with concealed satisfaction.
"Arundhati," she said sweetly, "do you need any help?"
Arundhati turned, her smile polite but calm. "Thank you, Auntie. But I've got everything under control."
"You really are something," Madhuri continued with a sigh. "To manage food for so many people in such a short time… well, I suppose growing up in a humbler household teaches you how to multitask."
To anyone unfamiliar, her tone might've sounded complimentary. But Arundhati knew better.
She said nothing. Not because she feared Madhuri—but out of respect for Kailashnath Trivedi, whose house she now called home.
Madhuri, unused to silence, felt a flicker of irritation but pressed on.
"I know you must hate Aarav," she said, voice barely above a whisper. "After all, what he did… no man with ethics would behave that way. And Aarav—he's unpredictable, isn't he? Just like how he unleashed those street dogs on your poor parents. Who knows what he might do next? But stay strong, dear. You have me. I'll do everything I can to help you."
Arundhati's hands didn't pause.
She stirred the pot in front of her with the same even rhythm as before, then turned to wipe her hands on a cloth. Her gaze met Madhuri's for a brief moment—calm, unwavering.
Still, she said nothing.
And that silence was the loudest answer she could give.