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What happened that night...
When Mr. and Mrs. Iyer arrived at the Trivedi mansion, their voices rang out in the cold air, calling for Kailashnath. But silence greeted them.
Just as unease began to settle in, the heavy iron gate creaked open—revealing Madhuri Trivedi, dressed in pale silk and guarded elegance.
They stormed inside without a greeting. Vijay's voice sliced through the stillness.
"Call Kailashnath."
Madhuri raised a brow, her voice sharp.
"Professor Bharadwaj, weren't you taught how to address those above your station?"
Vijay's face twisted with scorn.
"Miss Madhuri," he spat the name, "if you expected civility after what your nephew did to our daughter, you're either delusional or a fool. Now tell me—where is Mr. Kailashnath? Is he hiding from the mess his son made? He gave me his word. Said he'd stand by my daughter no matter what. So where was he—when your family trampled over her dignity?"
For a moment, something flickered in Madhuri's eyes. Being called a fool—by a man of lower social standing—was like a slap to the face. Her pride roared to retaliate, but years of training stitched her anger into a chilling calm. She wouldn't explode. No—not now. But they would pay for this.
She smiled coldly.
"You clearly misunderstood Aarav's words. He publicly declared that he no longer considers himself connected to Arundhati. That makes this none of our concern. The Trivedi name no longer shares ties with your daughter—or her troubles. I believe that settles it."
Vijay stepped forward, refusing to be dismissed.
"You're lying through your teeth. It was your brother, Kailashnath Trivedi, who came to us with folded hands asking for Arundhati's hand in marriage. You think you can sever ties now and pretend none of it happened—"
"I told you," she cut him off sharply, voice rising for the first time. "I don't enjoy repeating myself." Then, turning to the guards behind her, she added with venomous poise, "Release the dogs. Get rid of the pests."
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Arundhati, who had been silent this whole time, finally snapped. Her voice cracked through the tension like lightning.
"Thanks for the concern, auntie—but I won't be needing help from someone who thought setting dogs on my parents was acceptable."
The lie shattered instantly. Madhuri stiffened, but quickly recovered.
"Arundhati… you're mistaken. It was Aarav who instructed me. You know I wouldn't dare disobey the heir of this family…"
But Arundhati didn't even flinch. Her eyes narrowed, steady and burning with disgust.
"There's a lot I don't know about Aarav," she said bitterly, "but one thing I do know—he never involved others in our mess. If he hated me, he hated me alone. He never dragged my parents into it. After he broke me, he forgot me—like I was nothing. That's the kind of person he is. He'd rather let them stand outside all night, freezing, than send dogs. Because he wanted me to suffer. Not them."
She shook her head slowly, the disappointment more painful than the fury.
"So stop dragging his name through your filth. You're just using him to cover up your own cruelty."
Madhuri opened her mouth to argue—but a voice cut in from the hallway.
"What's the misunderstanding?"
Both women froze.
That voice.
They turned slowly, breath caught in their throats.
There he was.
Aarav.
Leaning casually against the doorframe, his usual sardonic smile curling at his lips.
He stepped into the kitchen like he owned it.
"Aunt," he said smoothly, "why do you look like you've seen a ghost?"
Madhuri's hands trembled slightly at her side. She swallowed hard. Had he heard everything?
She forced a weak laugh, desperately masking the dread that crawled under her skin.
"A-Aarav… I thought you left for your meeting. What are you doing here?"
He tilted his head, amused.
"Why can't I be here? Forgotten it's my house?"
"No, no… I was just surprised. You left so early, I thought you wouldn't be home for lunch."
"I did leave. Was almost at my destination when I suddenly remembered something important… so I turned around."
"That doesn't sound like the Aarav I know," she said, trying to sound playful. "And even if you did forget something, couldn't you have sent someone else?"
Aarav's smile sharpened.
"If it were files or papers, sure. But this isn't something I can send others to fetch."
Madhuri hesitated.
"What is it, then? What made Aarav Trivedi rush home like this? Your… new wife?"
The air turned heavier.
Arundhati's gaze never left Aarav's face.
And Madhuri—still smiling, still standing—began to feel something cold and foreign slithering into her chest.
Fear.