Her body trembled as she was walking on the empty dark road, the night breeze brushing against her damp cheeks. Every memory of Ranvijay came crashing into her like sharp shards of glass.
The way he used to stand so close, teasing her with that infuriating, smug smile—while she stubbornly kept her face blank. The way his voice softened only for her, hidden beneath his arrogance. The way he dropped to his knees once, clutching her waist as though she was the only thing keeping him alive, his eyes broken, pleading without words.
And then the image that haunted her the most—his terrified face when she had been hurt, his hands trembling as if he couldn't bear the thought of losing her.
Her throat tightened painfully. How can I leave him like this? How will he survive if I never return?
But then Anika's face flashed before her, bound and blindfolded, helpless. Myra's breath hitched. She needs me. If something happens to her because of me… I could never forgive myself.
Tears blurred her vision, falling silently onto her hands. She pressed her palm against her lips, muffling the sob that tore from her chest. Her heart screamed to run back to Ranvijay, to bury herself in his arms and tell him everything—but the cruel grip of fear held her tongue.
Taking a shaky breath, she whispered to the night, as though speaking to him from afar—
"Forgive me… Ranvijay."
And with her soul splitting in two, she turned toward the unknown, every step carrying both her love and her doom.
The night was still, suffocatingly silent except for the sound of her footsteps scraping against the deserted road. The streetlights flickered, leaving long shadows that twisted and warped with every step she took. Myra's hands trembled as she clutched her dupatta tighter around herself, as though it could shield her from the storm raging inside her heart.
Her chest ached with every breath. Guilt gnawed at her ribs, each step away from the palace pulling a thread from the fragile bond she had begun to weave with Ranvijay. Memories rose unbidden—his teasing smirks that she had always dismissed with an expressionless face, his raw desperation when he had collapsed to his knees, clinging to her waist like a broken man, his eyes—those stormy eyes—when she had bled and he thought he might lose her.
Her vision blurred, tears slipping down despite her efforts to hold them back. What if she never returned? What if this step took her to her end? But Anika's face, bound and blindfolded, flashed before her, jolting her feet forward again.
The road stretched endlessly, as though mocking her fragility. The darkness pressed in on all sides, yet she kept walking, one step after another, her heartbeat loud in her ears.
And then—
Headlights cut through the dark. A sleek black car rolled to a halt beside her. The tinted window slid down slowly, revealing nothing but a void of shadow inside.
A voice, smooth and commanding, spilled out.
"Get inside."
Myra froze, her pulse thundering. Every instinct screamed to run, but her legs wouldn't move. The memory of Anika's muffled cries in the video bound her tighter than chains.
The door clicked open. The night seemed to hold its breath, waiting.
Myra's footsteps echoed against the cold marble floor as she walked deeper into the shadowy hall. Her dupatta slipped from her shoulder, trailing behind like a torn piece of her will. Every corner of the place breathed dread—walls damp with age, the silence of darkness pressing against her fragile frame. Her heart pounded in her chest, the guilt of leaving Ranvijay burning in her veins, but the thought of saving Anika forced her forward.
Suddenly—
Clap… Clap… Clap.
The sound sliced through the silence.
Her body stiffened. She spun toward the sound, her eyes wide with fear. A figure emerged from the shadows, slow, deliberate, savoring her terror.
"Well, well…" A smooth, mocking voice filled the hall. "As expected."
Aditya stepped into the dim light, his eyes gleaming with twisted satisfaction, his smile a cruel curve. "I knew you'd come. Brave little Myra… walking straight into the lion's den."
Myra staggered back, her lips trembling but her voice refusing to come out. Her fists clenched against her sides, her mind screaming Run. Hide. Fight. But her body betrayed her, frozen.
Aditya tilted his head, circling her like prey. "Did you really think Ranvijay could keep you safe forever? That his love, his arms, could shield you from me?" He leaned closer, his whisper venomous. "No, Myra. You belong here—where you've always belonged. With me."
Myra flinched back, her fists tightening by her sides. "Where is Anika?" Her voice trembled, but the desperation in it made her sound braver than she felt. "Where is she? Let her go!"
Aditya tilted his head, feigning thought. "Ah… the sister-in-law. So innocent, so delicate. You care too much for people who will never care the same for you." His smirk deepened when he saw Myra's burning glare. "Don't worry… I'll release her. I'm not interested in her."
Her breath hitched, relief and dread clashing. "Then what do you want from me?"
Aditya stepped closer, his shoes clicking against the marble. His voice lowered, silken and poisonous.
"What I want, Myra… is for you to finally see the truth."
Myra's brows furrowed. "Truth?"
He chuckled darkly, circling her like a predator. "Poor little doll, so caged in lies. You think Ranvijay is your savior? Your protector? No, Myra… he is your destroyer."
Her chest tightened painfully, but she shook her head. "You're lying."
"Am I?" Aditya leaned in, his lips almost brushing her ear. "The fire that haunts your dreams… the blurred memories you cannot piece together… they are not accidents. They are buried truths. And at the center of it all stands Ranvijay."
"No…" Myra's voice cracked, but her feet refused to move.
He smirked, pulling something from his coat pocket—an old locket charred at the edges. He dangled it before her eyes. "Recognize this?"
Her knees weakened. The locket was almost identical to hers, but older, blackened by fire. She reached out with trembling fingers, her breath quivering.
"This," Aditya continued softly, "was your mother's. Do you know how she died, Myra? Or did your darling husband never tell you?"
Tears burned her eyes. "He said… it was an accident."
Aditya laughed cruelly. "Accident? Ranvijay set that fire. He killed her. "
"No… you're lying…" Myra whispered, shaking her head violently.
Aditya's gaze softened, almost tender, as if to mimic comfort. "I know it hurts. But don't you see? He never loved you, Myra. He only wanted to chain you… just like he chained your mother to her grave. You've seen it in his eyes—his obsession, his control. Love? No, my sweet. That is possession."
Images crashed in Myra's mind. Ranvijay's piercing gaze when she tried to pull away. His dominant hold when she struggled. His command to trust him, even when she didn't understand. His hands stained with blood, pulling her close while she trembled.
Her throat tightened until she could barely breathe. Her tears fell like glass shards cutting down her cheeks.
Aditya moved closer, gently lifting her chin with his fingers. "Deep inside, you already know I'm right. That's why you ran from him tonight."
Her heart clenched painfully. She remembered Ranvijay on his knees, his face buried against her waist, broken. She remembered the gentleness in his touch when she was hurt, the way his voice cracked when she was in danger. But Aditya's words poisoned even those memories, twisting them.
"What… what do you want from me?" she whispered hoarsely.
Aditya's lips curved into a dark smile. "I want to free you, Myra. Free you from him. All I ask is your trust. Stay with me, and I'll give you back what was stolen from you… including the truth of your mother's death."
Myra staggered back, torn between the fragments of warmth Ranvijay had shown her and the venom Aditya was dripping into her veins. Her heart screamed one thing, her mind another.
And in that suffocating hall, for the first time… she wasn't sure who Ranvijay truly was.