Chapter 73 - Chapter 70

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Author's POV

Living Room, Rajmahal, Jaipur

The living room had gone quiet, but not in peace-in devastation. The news still flashed on the screen, the bright red ticker screaming louder than the volume itself:

"Breaking: Chartered Flight from Jaipur to London Crashes Mid-Air. All 172 passengers presumed dead. One confirmed identity: Isha Maheshwari, renowned CA, 23."

No one could speak properly. The weight of disbelief pressed against their lungs, their chests burning with silent grief. The whole room looked as though someone had pulled the ground beneath them-no one could stand straight.

Prison sat on the floor, curled into herself like a fragile doll, repeating the words "No... no... it can't be true" under her breath.

Arjun leaned on the arm of the sofa, his face hidden in his hands, a rare crack in his usually strong exterior.

Ishika was still calling Isha again and again, as if by some miracle she'd pick up. She'd press the screen, then press it again, pull it away, stare at the name flashing-"babe💗"-and try again. Her hand trembled with every attempt, her breath catching in her throat each time the call got disconnected or went unanswered. Her face was wet, her mascara smudged, her lips quivering.

Beside her, Ritvik stared at the TV in pure shock. Not blinking. Not crying. Just... still. Like he had become hollow from within.

Mr. and Mrs. Maheshwari isha parents sat together, their bodies too stiff to lean on each other, but their pain threaded so deeply it connected them without movement. Her mother's eyes were blank, fixed on the carpet, as if trying to undo time through sheer will.

It was like time had stopped moving forward, yet the chaos only grew louder with each second. Every breath was heavier, the silence between them heavier still.

And in that silence... there was one name on everyone's mind.

Shivansh.

"Where is he?" Mr. Maheshwari isha father whispered hoarsely, barely above a murmur. No one responded. But everyone was already thinking the same.

Where was Shivansh?

Why was he not here?

Did he know?

Did he do something?

Did she meet him before she left?

Why did she leave without a word?

Who was the last person she saw?

Each question tumbled like rocks in a storm. No one asked them out loud, but they hung in the room, suffocating all air.

Mrs. Maheshwari finally asked aloud, "Why didn't he come with her? He stayed back, didn't he?"

"He should have been with her," whispered prisha, almost in a whisper, tears running down her cheeks.

"Isha left last night," Dhruv said, breaking the silence. "And... I... I saw her leave. I-I didn't stop her. I asked where she was going, and she just said she had to go. I thought... I thought maybe she will come back soon but I didn't think-" his voice broke, and he turned away, face flushed in guilt.

Everyone looked at him.

He continued, voice barely holding together, "She asked me not to tell anyone. She swore me to silence. She made me swear... on herself. And I couldn't... I didn't-"

Arav's voice dissolved into sobs as he buried his face in his hands.

"Dis She met him before going?" Ishika finally asked, brokenly.

"That's what we're all thinking," Arjun said bitterly, pacing the room, "Because only he could've stopped her. Only he could've convinced her to leave in the middle of the night like that. So where is he now?"

Prisha looked at her phone, redialing again. "He's not answering."

"He didn't even show up after watching the news?" Arjun asked, frustrated. "This whole house is in pieces and he hasn't shown his face. What does that mean?"

"Does he even know?" Ishika asked, her voice a whisper. "He'd... he'd never... right?"

"We've been calling him since we saw the news," Shivansh father said. His voice sounded angry now-not at anyone in particular, but at the storm, at fate, at the silence. "His phone's ringing, but no one's answering. Not even a message. Not a word."

Shivansh mother stood up suddenly, her hand trembling as she looked toward the door. "Call Aarya."

Everyone turned.

"Call Aarya," she repeated, voice louder now. "If Shivansh isn't answering, he'll know where he is. We need answers!"

Shivansh chose papa took out his phone and dialed quickly.

"Aarya," he said as soon as the call connected. "Where is Shivansh?"

On the other end, Aarya's voice was laced with confusion. "I don't know sir. He's not with me."

"What?"

"I thought he was with you all."

"Don't lie, Aarya," Arjun snapped. "Isha left last night and now she's gone and no one knows why or where Shivansh is. Just tell us the truth!"

"I swear!" Aarya said, panicked now. "I don't know! He just... he left last night and didn't return. I thought maybe he was with Juhi..."

The room fell into a deafening silence again.

And then-

The front door opened.

All heads turned.

Footsteps. Two pairs. Then voices. Light, smiling, carefree.

Shivansh walked in, laughing softly at something Juhi had said beside him. He had a hand lightly placed on her back, as if steadying her. She was smiling too, her eyes twinkling as she looked at him.

The moment they crossed into the living room-

The air changed.

The smile slipped from Shivansh's face instantly.

The silence hit him like a wall. He saw everyone-in the living room. Standing. Sitting. Pale. Crying. Shaken.

His mother had tears down her cheeks, gripping her husband's hand.

His choti maa stared at him as though she'd never seen him before.

Shivansh chote papa's expression-blank and ghost-like.

And Ishika. Ishika had stopped breathing, her phone hanging loosely from her fingers.

Shivansh's steps faltered. He looked around.

"What... happened?" he asked slowly, his eyes flicking between the faces.

His voice came out small, cautious-unaware of the storm that was waiting to swallow him.

No one answered.

His eyes landed on the TV.

And then...

He saw it.

The news.

The name.

The photo.

The video.

The confirmation.

He stood there, frozen. Disbelieving. The light in his eyes drained in a second.

Breaking News Segment:

"We interrupt this broadcast with breaking news. A tragic airplane crash has been reported on the route from jaipur to london.

Among the casualties, reports are emerging that a woman identified as Isha Maheshwari, also known as CA Isha, was on board the airplane. She has her own firm in Delhi and she was the youngest CA who has her own firm at the age of 23.

Initial sources confirm that Isha maheshwari was closely linked to King of Jaipur, Mr. Shivansh Raghuvanshi and his family. They are seen together many times.

According to our reporter there are 70 to 172 members in airplane at the time of tragic plane crash.

Further details are being provided airlines board members by press conference which is expected to release an official statement soon.

We will continue to follow this developing story and provide updates as more information becomes available."

Juhi's smile faded too.

Shivansh stumbled a step forward. "No," he whispered.

Everyone was still watching him.

"No... no, that can't be true."

He turned to look at the family, and the questions hit him-like arrows shot from every side.

"Where were you last night?"

"Why didn't you stop her?"

"Did you meet her?"

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Why didn't you stop her!?"

Arjun stood up, pointing a trembling finger. "You knew. You knew! Didn't you? You met her before she left, didn't you!?"

Shivansh opened his mouth-but no words came out.

He couldn't speak.

He couldn't breathe.

He looked at the photo again.

And just like that-

He broke.

His knees was about to hit floor but juhi help to stand, His hands went limp to his sides. His shoulders slumped.

"No..." he whispered again. "No... she... promised."

He looked up, his face twisted in anguish.

"She promised me she wouldn't leave."

And then-

He cried.

Not the silent kind. Not the restrained kind.

He screamed into the quiet room, sobbing like a man whose world had been ripped from him-because it had.

And no one knew what to say.

Because deep down...

They knew.

Only he had the answers.

But now, even Shivansh...

Had nothing left to give.

"Shivansh... where were you?"

But he didn't answer.

His eyes had landed on the TV screen.

The headline flashed again.

"BREAKING: Plane Crash over Indian Ocean - No Survivors Found"

And just beneath, in smaller letters-"Isha Maheswari onboard."

"No..."

The word escaped him like a breath knocked out of his lungs. His hands shook. The color drained from his face.

He moved forward one step, staring at the screen. Then another.

"No... it's not possible." His voice cracked.

"She was with me... just last night. I-" He looked around like a man drowning, trying to find something to hold on to.

"I saw her. She was here. With me. It's not true..."

Juhi's smile faded completely as she realized what was happening. Her face turned pale, her eyes darting between the people in the room and Shivansh.

"It's fake. It must be fake," he muttered, his voice climbing.

"This is nonsense. A mistake. She's not-"

But the screen wasn't lying. The grief in the room wasn't a hoax. The sobs weren't for show.

Tears filled his eyes. He blinked rapidly, stubbornly, trying to force them away. But one broke free, sliding down his cheek. Then another.

He hadn't cried in years. Not after when she left him.

But now-

He was breaking.

Then, just as the first crack split his composure-

The door opened again.

A deep, firm voice thundered through the silence:

"Right. She's dead, isn't she? Or do we still want to lie to ourselves?"

Everyone turned.

Aviyansh.

He stood tall at the entrance, his eyes sharper than ever, darker than before. His entire posture radiated anger and restrained agony.

Shivansh's breath hitched as he saw him. Everyone else froze.

"What are you saying?" someone whispered.

Aviyansh stepped inside, jaw clenched, fists balled at his sides.

"I'm saying it wasn't an accident," he growled.

"It was a pre-planned murder."

A gasp rippled through the room. Even the sound of breathing paused.

Isha's father stood up.

"What-what do you mean murder?"

Shivansh looked at Aviyansh like he'd been stabbed.

"What the hell are you saying?"

"You heard me." Aviyansh didn't blink. "And you know it too, don't you?"

Shivansh hadn't moved.

He just kept whispering.

"She's not dead... she's not dead... she's not dead…"

And then he looked up.

At Avyansh.

His eyes changed.

"You said it was murder," he said slowly. "Then tell me who did it."

Aviyansh stared at him.

His next words made the room tremble.

"I think... it was meant for you, bhai sa."

Shivansh took a step back. For the first time, he had no words. His mouth opened but nothing came out. His heartbeat was thundering in his ears.

"She died because of your words, bhai sa."

"No-" he whispered. "Don't-don't do this-"

But Aviyansh was not stopping.

"You said something to her. You made her feel like she was nothing."

"No."

"You pushed her away, told her she meant nothing. Told her she was just-" he stopped, voice choking. "Just another woman."

A heavy silence engulfed the room.

Juhi looked terrified now, backing away, suddenly realizing she wasn't just walking into a room-she had walked into the ruins of a war zone.

Dhruv turned his head away.

"Tell them, Dhruv bhai !" Aviyansh shouted.

But Dhruv didn't speak. His lips trembled.

"She made me swear on her," he whispered, finally.

Aviyansh's voice trembled now too.

"She didn't make me. So, I can say right! now, if you not. "

"Stop..." Shivansh murmured, shaking.

"You didn't just kill her with your words," Aviyansh continued, stepping closer.

"You killed her soul. You destroyed her. And then you left her alone."

No one in the room moved. No one spoke.

And slowly, for the first time in years, Shivansh collapsed to the floor-not because someone pushed him-but because guilt did. Because grief did. Because the weight of love lost under the burden of his arrogance was too heavy to carry anymore.

Aviyansh's voice broke the silence like a blade slicing through still air.

His jaw tightened. His fists trembled. His eyes scanned every single face in that room-each stunned, each desperate for the truth.

"You want to know what happened?" he said at last, his voice rough, broken, but rising with restrained fury.

"You want to know what happened the night before she... died? What happened yesterday?"

Nobody dared to breathe.

Aviyansh moved forward and stood where all could see him. The ache in his eyes, the fire in his throat-it was no longer anger. It was desperation.

"She came here," he said, lips trembling.

"She came here to surprise him. On his birthday. The man she loved more than anyone. The man she gave everything to."

His voice cracked on the word everything.

"I was there. I saw it all."

He looked at Shivansh then-not like a brother. Not like a friend. But like a man staring at someone he once worshipped, now shattered in his eyes.

"I saw her walk in-smiling. Excited. Her hands were full of gifts. She was glowing... because she was happy. Because she thought she was coming back to her people."

He turned away for a moment, biting back the swell of grief, then looked toward Ishika, Prisha, Arjun, Arav, Ritvik, her parents, Dhruv.

"She didn't tell him cause she was so excited to surprise him on his birthday , right? Because she wanted to see the look on your faces."

Ishika covered her mouth with her trembling fingers, tears already forming.

"She met us first then we decided to go to one of his penthouses but you know how she found him there," Aviyansh continued.

"She found him. She found bhai sa. In the living area. Lights low. Music playing."

He turned again to Shivansh. His voice turned venomous.

"And he.. was not alone."

Shivansh's shoulders hunched as if every word was carving into his back.

"You were with her," Aviyansh spat. "That girl. Whoever she was. Half-dressed. Sitting on your lap. Holding you like she owned you. Laughing in your ear."

Gasps filled the room. Even Juhi flinched at the detail.

"And Isha stood there, at the door."

"She didn't scream. She didn't throw anything. She didn't even walk in. She just..." He choked for a second. "She just stood there... frozen. Her face didn't even know how to react. Her eyes tried to understand whether this was a dream. Or a nightmare."

Everyone was silent. The image was too brutal.

"And then he saw her," Aviyansh's voice dropped to a low growl.

"He looked at her. And do you know what he did and after what he said?"

He turned sharply to Shivansh again.

"Tell them. Come on. TELL THEM WHAT YOU DID AND SAID!"

Shivansh remained silent. His throat moved, but no words came.

So Aviyansh answered for him.

"He kissed that girl right in front of her while having eye contact with her and then said ' don't show me you face again and go die ' that's all. No explanation. No guilt. Just cold... disapproval."

Ishika's eyes widened in horror. Prisha covered her face, sobbing.

"And then you walked past her. You didn't even stop to explain why you did that to her. You didn't try to stop Isha when she turned around and left."

Aviyansh's voice was growing louder now.

"I followed her. I ran after her. She walked straight downstairs but dhruv bhai sa said he will handle her and I thought she'd scream, cry, break down-but she didn't. She just left us. "

Tears streamed down his cheeks now-but his voice didn't waver.

"You know she begged him to talk. She should yell. To hit him. To let it out. And do you know what she did?"

He turned to everyone again.

"She just walked away and now she is not with us. Not with me."

Everyone was crying now. Even juhi, silent in the corner, had her head bowed.

And then, softly, Aviyansh's voice dropped, as if telling a secret he'd kept buried too long.

"Yesterday night... she reminded me of someone else."

He stepped back, his eyes distant now, as though he were speaking through a hole in time.

"Years ago, we lost someone. Not to death. To silence. Meher di just because of him. "

Gasps again. That name hadn't been spoken in years.

"She was my sister. She loved me more than I deserved. But I didn't know how to love her back. I was too busy being the strong one. The protector. The loyal brother to this man," he gestured at Shivansh, "whom I treated like a god."

His voice quivered.

"She left me. Without a goodbye. She left, broken, tired... and I never knew why. Until I saw Isha... standing there the same way."

He closed his eyes.

"Same man. Same day. Same time. Same pain. Just like her isha also left us."

Now he looked at everyone again. Fire burned behind the tears in his eyes.

"Do you know what Shivansh said to her before she left?"

Again, Shivansh didn't answer. His lips barely moved.

So Aviyansh said it.

"He told her-'I don't want to marry you, Isha. But I can't ignore maa and dadi sa words either.'"

The words struck like a dagger.

"And when she asked what that meant, he said-'I just want to keep you to show the world and nothing. "

The room erupted with stunned silence.

"She was his fiancée. She was his to-be-wife. And he-" Aviyansh stopped. His voice collapsed.

"He shattered her just a month before the wedding. And she just left us before her marriage, she was so excited for everything even to surprise him but he surprised her in return."

Then finally, he walked toward the center of the room and said the final words.

"And now she's gone. Just like Meher di. She left us too. Because of him."

He looked down.

"Because I failed again."

And with that, the room crumbled.

Juhi sat down, stunned. Dhruv held his head in his hands. Ishika was crying into Prisha's shoulder.

And Shivansh?

Shivansh was still kneeling, shaking, and broken.

Like a man who'd finally realized-

He didn't just lose Isha.

He destroyed her.

The silence that followed Avyansh's confession wasn't just silence. It was the kind that echoed. The kind that screamed through everyone's ears even louder than words.

Not a single breath moved.

Everyone stared at Shivansh.

The mighty, arrogant king.

Now kneeling.

Now... ruined.

Ishika's nails dug into Prisha's arm. Arav looked away. Juhi's smile had long disappeared, her face pale with shock.

His head remained low.

His lips didn't move.

His silence was louder than screams.

Then-

"SHIVANSH!"

A booming voice. One no one had expected.

His father.

The quietest man in the palace. The one who rarely raised his voice, rarely interfered.

But today, he stood.

He walked straight through the middle of the room. Everyone parted.

"SHIVANSH!" he repeated, his voice trembling with fury.

"Is it true? You... did this to her? To Isha?"

No answer.

Shivansh didn't even look up.

That was all it took.

SMACK.

A slap across the face.

Not just any slap. Not a symbolic one.

A real, loud, echoing slap that made everyone jolt.

Shivansh's face tilted from the force. Red.

But he still didn't move.

And that's when his mother stepped forward.

Her steps were not loud. They were steady. Determined. But her eyes-

Her eyes were on fire.

And with one swift motion-

She slapped him again.

Harder.

So hard it left a sting in the air.

"Think of our daughter," she spat, her voice shaking.

"You broke her, Shivansh. You didn't just break Isha-you broke me."

Tears poured down her face, but her hands didn't tremble.

"You broke her trust, her life, her soul! And for what? For who? For some woman no one even knows? For someone who didn't even matter?"

Shivansh finally looked up.

But his eyes were empty. Like a man already sentenced.

"We thought it was our fault," his mother continued, stepping closer.

"We thought maybe we pushed you too fast into this wedding. Maybe you weren't ready. Maybe you needed more time."

"But now? Now I see the truth." Her voice cracked.

"You were never broken, Shivansh. You were cruel."

No one moved.

No one interrupted her.

"And now, I don't know what came after you did this to her," she whispered. "I don't know if she's alive. If she's safe. If she's even breathing."

Her lips trembled as she clutched her saree tightly.

"You killed something in all of us."

She looked around the room-at Juhi, who looked down. At Prisha and Ishika, who were crying uncontrollably.

"You didn't just break your future wife, Shivansh. You broke this entire family."

And then, slowly, the truth began to pour from every corner.

The room trembled with tension. No one could look away.

Then Shivansh's father-a man who had always stayed diplomatic, neutral-stepped forward, eyes bloodshot.

SLAP!

Again

The sound cracked across the walls. Shivansh reeled, a hand to his cheek.

Shivansh again fell to his knees.

"You killed her," his father said, voice shaking with fury. "You killed both my daughters. First Meher... now Isha."

She was trembling, her voice hollowed with anguish. "Do you even know what you've done to this family? You didn't just break her heart. You broke all of us. Her trust... our trust. You broke everything."

"Maa, please-" Shivansh begged, tears falling freely now.

"We thought it was our fault," she whispered. "We thought we didn't protect her enough. But it was you... all along."

His father's voice cracked, "We didn't blame you for Meher because we didn't know the full truth. But this time... this time, we saw it with our own eyes. We heard it."

Shivansh grandfather stood with sorrow in his eyes.

"I raised you like a king, boy," he muttered. "But kings don't do this. Monsters do."

Shivansh grandmother finally spoke.

"I told her to come. I told her you missed her. She believed me."

Her voice broke. "It was me. I brought her here to this."

Even the guards near the doors lowered their heads. Silent witnesses to a shattered empire.

Then came the words no one expected.

From Aviyansh.

Still standing. Still shaking.

He looked up again and whispered:

"You said you didn't want to marry her. But you also didn't want to let her go."

"That's not love, bhai. That's possession."

He looked straight into Shivansh's dead eyes.

"You kept her in your world like a prisoner... and then blamed her when she bled."

And then finally-one more voice broke the room apart.

An old man. Weak. Thin. But his words were iron.

Dada sa

Shivansh's grandfather.

"I loved you more than my own son," he said. "And he died for you. For your name. For this legacy."

He stepped forward.

"But now... I wonder."

Everyone looked at him.

"Maybe you didn't kill Isha..." he whispered.

"But you killed this family's honour."

And then-

He did what no one imagined he'd ever do.

He removed his royal ring.

Walked to Shivansh.

And placed it on the ground.

"This doesn't belong to you anymore," he said.

And walked away.

Leaving behind the sound of a ring hitting marble.

And a kingdom collapsing.

It was as if the palace was holding its breath.

Everyone stood frozen.

Not a single cough. Not a single whisper.

Only Shivansh sat there, slapped and defeated. The future king looked more like a ruined statue - still, silent, lifeless.

And that's when the murmurs started.

They all turned to Aviyansh.

The youngest. The one who said it all.

Now, every eye clung to him.

Shivansh grandmother removed his specs slowly, blinking in disbelief.

"Who... who was the girl?" He finally whispered.

The question rippled through the room.

"Yes. Who?"

"Who was she?"

"That night... that girl on his lap..."

Everyone wanted to know. Everyone needed to know.

And yet... Shivansh said nothing.

"Avi."

"Who... was the girl?"

"Who did Shivansh betray Isha with?"

"We need to know-who was she?"

"Please, Aviyansh. We deserve to know!"

Ritvik stepped forward. Then ishika. Then Arjun.

Even Arav, whose lips trembled, nodded.

"Tell us the name," Ritvik begged.

"Tell us who ruined everything."

But Aviyansh's face didn't move. His fists clenched.

"You don't want me to say it," he said, his voice rough.

"Trust me. You don't."

"We have to know!" Arjun shouted. "Because whoever it is-she destroyed didu!"

And that's when Aviyansh closed his eyes.

And spoke.

"It was... Juhi."

The air went still.

Time cracked.

"What?" someone whispered.

"No..."

"That's not..."

"Juhi?"

"Juhi?" Ishika whispered, her face turning white. "This Juhi?"

Juhi stood in the corner, her smile wiped away, trying to blend with the shadows - as if the truth wouldn't reach her if she stayed quiet enough.

Aviyansh looked up. His eyes burned.

"She's not our Juhi. She's a snake in our family."

He pointed at her.

"A liar. A manipulator. Someone who pretended to care-while stabbing everyone in the back."

Juhi took a small step back.

"Avi, don't-"

"SHUT UP!" Ishika screamed suddenly, so loud that everyone jumped.

She shot up from the floor like fire catching gasoline.

"You... YOU?" she roared. "You were the one? You were the one on his lap?"

Juhi looked around wildly, eyes darting for someone to defend her. But no one moved. Everyone was frozen. Disgusted.

"Ishika-wait, listen-"

"I'll show you listening!"

And before anyone could move, Ishika charged.

Her heels clicked like warning shots, her eyes wild, her fists clenched.

Then-BAM!

A knee to Juhi's gut.

So fast. So fierce.

Juhi crashed to the ground, the wind knocked out of her.

Gasps filled the air.

No one even processed what had happened. One second Juhi was standing, the next she was sprawled on the floor, her earrings torn, her hair tangled.

"YOU RUINED HER!" Ishika screamed, standing over her.

"YOU RUINED ISHA!"

Juhi whimpered on the floor, trying to crawl back, but Ishika wasn't done.

"You walked into her life, acted like a sister-hugged her, smiled at her, fixed her dupatta-and all while you were trying to STEAL what was hers?"

Arav and Ritwik jumped forward, grabbing Ishika from behind before she could land another blow.

"Let me GO!" she screamed, kicking her heels, tears flooding her face. "LET ME HIT HER! LET ME BREAK HER THE WAY SHE BROKE ISHA!"

"Ishika, stop!" Ritwik shouted, holding her arms tight. "She's not worth it! Please-stop-you'll hurt yourself!"

But Ishika didn't hear him.

She was sobbing now. Shaking.

"She's the reason Isha went away... she's the reason we lost her... she's the reason I CAN'T LOOK Isha in the eye anymore!"

Juhi was still on the floor, crying, but no one helped her.

Not one soul.

Not even her own family.

Her family... just looked away.

Ashamed.

"You deserved this, Juhi," Ritwik finally said quietly.

"We always knew you were up to something. Always gossiping. Always stirring. But we didn't think you'd go this far."

Aviyansh stood motionless, watching it unfold, watching Juhi's mask fall apart.

"She planned it," he said coldly.

"She used her cousin. She used Shivansh. She used Isha's trust. And when it all blew up, she hid in silence."

"Isha paid the price," Ishika whispered, collapsing on the ground, breathless.

"And Juhi walked away untouched."

Ishika curled into herself, her sobs the only sound in the room.

The entire family was frozen.

Staring at the shattered pieces of the girl they thought they knew.

Shivansh grandmother had tears in his eyes. Shivansh mother had covered her face. The servants nearby had stopped breathing.

Juhi sat up slowly, but before she could say anything-

"Not a word," Shivansh's mother warned, deadly cold.

"Not one word, Juhi."

Juhi looked at her, trembling.

"Get up," his mother ordered.

Juhi didn't move.

"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!"

Her voice thundered across the palace.

Everyone turned away.

Juhi picked herself up, blood at the corner of her lip, hair a mess, dignity gone.

She staggered toward the door.

No one helped her.

Because for the first time ever-

Everyone knew who the real villain was.

And this time... it wasn't Shivansh.

Shivansh couldn't speak anymore. His whole body trembled. He could feel her-he saw her. Isha. He saw her.

There-near the pillar. She stood in her white kurta, smiling gently.

He blinked. She vanished.

Then again-on the other side of the room, sitting near his mother, her head on her lap.

But she vanished again.

He gasped, reaching out.

Everyone watched him crumple.

Dhruv, who had been silent all this while, finally snapped. His fists clenched.

"You promised her you wouldn't betray her," he muttered, walking forward.

Shivansh looked up, lips trembling.

Dhruv pulled back and punched him across the face.

CRACK!

"You don't deserve to say her name," Dhruv growled. "You don't deserve to remember her."

More punches followed. "You ruined everything! EVERYTHING!"

Shivansh's father stood up slowly. His voice was cold, clear, and final.

"Get out," he said.

Everyone went still.

"Both of you," he spat, looking at Shivansh and Juhi. "You're not part of this family anymore. Out."

Shivansh looked up, shattered. Juhi whimpered.

"OUT!" the grandmother roared.

Shivansh tried to speak, to explain, but no one listened.

And somewhere deep inside him, all he could hear was her laugh. Her voice. Her smile. The haunting echo of a love he didn't deserve.

And that's when he realized-

He had truly lost her.

He didn't wait to hear anything after that. He couldn't. The weight of everyone's words, their accusations, their screams, the hatred that clouded the entire living room like thick smoke-it was suffocating. He couldn't breathe in that house anymore.

He turned away, eyes glassy, fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned pale. His chest burned. No one tried to stop him-not this time.

Not even Dhruv, who had punched him minutes ago like he was trying to punch every regret out of his bones. Not even his father, who had said what Shivansh had feared the most-that he had destroyed not one, but two daughters of the same house.

The driveway outside was empty and dull, but inside him, it was a storm.

His feet moved on autopilot. Every step felt like dragging a million bricks of guilt and confusion behind him. The air outside was colder than usual, but he didn't feel it. His hands pushed the keys into the ignition of his car, and as the engine roared, something inside him cracked-fully, wholly, uncontrollably.

He floored the accelerator.

The car shot forward like a bullet from a loaded gun. Tires screeched across the gravel. Within seconds, he was on the main road, racing past everything-cars, signals, people. None of it existed. Only the sound of the engine and the whirlpool inside his head did.

His mind was chaos.

"She was right there. Yesterday. We laughed. She was breathing. Her voice was in my ears. How the hell could she be gone?"

His grip on the steering wheel tightened. He pressed harder on the accelerator.

"I didn't cry. Not for years. Not for anyone. But today-what the hell is happening to me?"

A tear rolled down his cheek and fell silently on the black leather of the steering wheel. Then another. And another. They didn't ask permission.

His jaw clenched. His throat burned. His vision blurred slightly, but he refused to stop. If he stopped, he'd break. And he couldn't afford to break-not now.

Flashes of Isha kept popping in his head-her smile, her voice calling his name with slight irritation, the way she used to throw those little taunts at him, pretending not to care. The way she used to look at him like he meant more than the throne, more than his name, more than anything.

"She believed in me. Even when I didn't."

And what had he done?

He had failed her.

Not once. Not twice. But repeatedly.

And today... there were no excuses. No words. Just consequences.

The car swerved as he missed a pothole by inches. But he didn't care. His heart was crashing louder than any possible accident. Speed was the only thing grounding him right now.

"Why does it feel like I've lost something that was a part of my soul? Why does it feel like she's still around-everywhere?"

He saw her-again. This time, just for a second, sitting at the backseat through the rear-view mirror. Her eyes calm, lips slightly parted like she wanted to say something. And then, gone. Vanished like smoke. Just a ghost of a memory.

He screamed. Loud. Raw.

Inside the sealed silence of the car, his voice cracked the air.

"ISHA!"

He hit the steering with the palm of his hand again and again, until it hurt. Until his knuckles went red. Until his breath came in pants.

All the voices from the house echoed in his ears.

"You broke her."

"You destroyed this family."

"You didn't just lose her-you pushed her away."

"We lost Meher because of you. And now Isha too."

His father's voice. His mother's sobs. Dhruv's rage. Aviyansh's truth. His family disappointment. Her parents. Her Friends tears.

All of it was now a chorus of grief inside his mind. But what killed him the most-was that Isha hadn't said anything. Not a word.

She hadn't defended him.

She hadn't looked back.

She had disappeared just like Meher. Quietly. Without noise. Without explanation.

His foot pressed the accelerator again-harder, more desperate.

The city lights outside blurred. Roads twisted, but he didn't care. He didn't know where he was going. He just needed to get away from everything. From everyone. From himself.

"I wish I could reverse everything. Just one chance. One day. Even one minute... before everything went wrong."

He could still hear her voice faintly in his ears. That soft whisper she had once said when things were calm.

"You're safe, Shivansh. You're not as broken as you think you are."

And now?

Now she is gone.

And he had never felt more shattered in his entire life.

The city was vanishing behind him.

One turn after another, he pushed the car harder - streets turned to curves, curves into empty stretches of cracked roads and half-faded streetlights. Buildings disappeared. The honks, the buzzing, the sound of life - all faded. Now, all that remained was the wild growl of the engine and the rhythm of his own ragged breathing.

His eyes were locked ahead, but his mind wasn't here.

He didn't even know where "here" was.

It was an isolated road now - barren, dead silent, lined with distant trees that flickered past like shadows of regret. The sky above was dark, moonless, haunting, and yet, none of it scared him. The only fear clawing inside him was the silence she left behind.

And that's when it hit him.

That memory.

Out of nowhere, like a soft perfume lingering from a past life, like a song played too suddenly on a radio - it returned.

The last time they were together. Truly together.

They were on his bed.

His room bathed in soft yellow light, the curtains fluttering, the city noises faint outside. Isha was lying beside him - hair messy, one hand draped lazily over his chest, her face tucked against the crook of his shoulder. Her bare legs tangled with his, the sheet loosely thrown over them.

She had been talking nonsense.

"You snore," she mumbled into his skin, pretending to be annoyed.

He laughed, brushing his fingers through her hair. "I do not."

"Yes, you do, Mr. Cold monster. Loud enough to wake the ancestors from their graves."

He had turned to look at her, pretending to be offended. "Then why are you still here, huh?"

She smirked - that mischievous, untamable smirk - and bit his shoulder playfully.

"Because someone holds me like a lost puppy every time I try to leave."

He pulled her closer immediately, possessively, his arms tight around her bare waist. "Damn right I do."

Her laughter. Her warmth. Her skin against his. It wasn't about the heat of passion - it was that peace, the kind only she gave him. That quiet space between their laughter where he felt human. Not a king. Not an heir. Just a man. Her man.

She ran her fingers up his chest and tapped his nose.

"When did you become this soft, huh?"

He smiled, eyes closed. "When you stopped hating me."

"I never did," she whispered softly. "I just didn't know how to love someone like you..."

"...someone who carries the weight of the whole damn world."

He had kissed her forehead then - slow, full of meaning. She had closed her eyes, letting herself melt into him, like she belonged nowhere else.

"I'd give up that whole damn world for this," he had whispered, lips pressed against her hair.

And for a moment, in that bed, under that golden light, time had frozen.

They didn't need promises. I didn't need it forever. That night was their forever.

Now.

Shivansh's hands tightened around the steering wheel as the tears returned.

Hot. Raw. Silent.

The car's speed was merciless - but his mind was already breaking. Each thought was a blade. That flashback now clung to his chest like a shackle.

How did we get here?

How did she slip away?

She laughed with him. Touched him. Breathed against him.

And now she had vanished into the kind of silence that could tear through bones.

He could still feel the warmth of her breath on his neck. The way she giggled when he tickled her sides. How she used to complain and blush whenever he told her she looked like a storm and a sunrise all at once.

And now?

Now the only storm left was inside him.

The road curved again - trees arched overhead, forming a tunnel of branches. He didn't notice. He didn't care. The isolation around him echoed the void inside.

"I thought we had more time."

"I thought I could fix it."

"I thought she'd stay."

He slammed the brakes suddenly - the car screeched to a halt in the middle of nowhere, dust rising around the tires. His body was shaking.

He threw open the door and stumbled out into the night.

The cold hit him like a slap, but it didn't matter.

He screamed.

Not words. Just pain. Just loss.

His voice echoed against the trees, the empty fields, the sky.

He bent forward, hands on his knees, breath heaving. His body was fighting against the pressure inside - like his lungs wanted to give up. Like his heart couldn't keep beating under the weight of memories.

His knees buckled, and he dropped to the ground. On the hard earth. Alone. Scared. Ruined.

And still - in the black silence of that road - he could see her.

Waving at him like a child. In that yellow sundress. Laughing like she used to when she danced around him, mocking his seriousness.

"Loosen up, Your Highness. It's not illegal to smile, is it?"

And now?

He had forgotten how to smile.

He had forgotten how to breathe.

Because loving her was the easiest thing he'd ever done.

And losing her - was going to be the hardest thing he would ever survive.

He dropped.

Literally, his knees hit the gravelled ground like dead weight, and for a second, even the air stopped moving. The engine of his car kept humming behind him, but it might as well have been a world away.

The wind wasn't cold. It was cruel.

And he - he was done.

His chest was rising and falling so hard, it felt like he was trying to breathe through drowning. Like every breath was a fight. Like every beat of his heart was screaming her name.

He didn't even realise when the tears started again. He wasn't even aware of his voice.

Until it broke.

"I'm sorry!"

The scream ripped out of him like a wound finally opening. His head dropped forward. His fists slammed the ground.

"I'm sorry, Isha! I'm sorry!"

Over and over.

Louder. Rawer. Like he was trying to force the universe to rewind time through pain alone.

His voice echoed in the emptiness. No one heard him.

And that's what shattered him more.

There was no one there to hear him fall apart. Not even her.

Because she had always been the one who saw through him. Always been the one who sat with him when no one dared. Who held his hand under the table when he was anxious. Who made fun of his seriousness but kissed his forehead like he was fragile.

And now...

Now she wasn't here.

"I didn't mean to hurt you..."

He whispered it this time. His body trembling. The gravel under his knees digging into his skin. But he didn't feel any of it. His pain had numbed everything else.

He looked up at the sky - the wide, suffocating sky - and his throat cracked again.

"I DIDN'T MEAN TO LOSE YOU!"

His sobs came now - ugly, violent, soul-deep sobs that didn't care for silence, didn't care for pride, or the weight of his surname, or the title of King of Jaipur. That didn't mean anything anymore.

"Where are you...?"

"Where did you go...?"

"Why did I let you go...?"

His hands reached for nothing. Just thin air. Like she'd been standing there a moment ago, just beyond reach, and now she was gone.

And he had pushed her away.

He remembered the last thing she said before leaving. That quiet look of defeat in her eyes. The way her shoulders had dropped as if she had carried too much weight for too long - weight that was never hers to bear.

"I kept waiting for you to choose me."

"But you always chose your ego first."

And now, on this empty stretch of road, surrounded by trees that didn't care and stars that refused to shine - Shivansh finally understood.

He had broken her.

He hadn't just lost her.

He shattered the one person who would've given him the world for nothing in return.

He screamed again - louder this time. So loud that even the birds in the trees flew away. His fingers clawed the dirt. His nails split. His voice cracked.

And then - he laughed.

Brokenly. Hopelessly.

A cracked, half-crazed laugh that only comes from the kind of heartbreak you don't survive.

"Look at me now, Isha... look at me..."

"The great Shivansh Raghuvanshu future King, perfect businessman... lying in the dirt for you."

His voice trembled. His lips quivered. The tears didn't stop.

"You said I was heartless."

"But you were wrong..."

"I had one... and you were in it."

He couldn't stop the memories now. They flooded him like a storm, drowning everything else.

Her voice calling his name from across the kitchen.

Her stubbornness.

The way she'd walk out of rooms just to see if he'd come after her.

Her smile when she won an argument.

The way she'd curl into him at night and whisper, "Don't ever leave me."

And he didn't even answer back then.

Because he thought she'd always be there.

But she wasn't.

Not anymore.

"Please..."

"Please come back..."

"I'll do anything..."

His hands clasped together, as if praying.

To God.

To the sky.

To the stars.

To the ghost of her that still lingered in his soul.

He was begging now. And he didn't care who saw. He didn't care if anyone took a photo, if it made headlines, if it ruined his name.

None of that mattered now.

Because his name meant nothing without her attached to it.

And in that moment - with dirt on his knees, tears on his cheeks, and blood on his knuckles - Shivansh broke into a thousand pieces.

There was no crown here. No pride. No arrogance.

Just a man.

Crying for the woman he couldn't stop loving.

The car was quiet now. The storm inside him wasn't.

Shivansh didn't know where he was driving anymore. He had no destination, no plan. Only a numb grip on the steering wheel and a head full of chaos. His eyes were red, face stained with dried tears, and his throat was sore from the screams that never reached anyone but the trees.

He just drove.

The sun had almost set, bleeding red across the dusty sky, and the air around the outskirts of Jaipur had grown still. The usual humming of traffic had long faded behind him. There was only silence now - and the dull sound of gravel cracking beneath his tyres.

That's when he saw it.

On the side of the empty, unpaved road - almost hidden behind tall trees and wild grass - was an old, weather-worn stone arch. And beyond it... a small, abandoned-looking temple, painted in faded red and gold. The kind of temple that the world had forgotten. No signboard. No name. No queue. No flowers. No people.

It stood alone - just like him.

Without thinking, Shivansh slammed the brakes. The car screeched slightly on the gravel, and before the dust could settle, he was out. His steps were unsteady. His head still heavy from the emotional collapse earlier.

But something about this place - something about its stillness - pulled him in.

The air changed as he walked through the broken arch.

The sound of birds returned, faintly. A gentle breeze moved through the trees, whispering prayers only the earth could understand.

He stepped inside.

The cool stone floor of the temple met his feet, and the moment he crossed into the mandir, it was like the weight of the world slid off his shoulders just a little.

And then he saw him.

Sitting cross-legged near the dimly flickering oil lamp was an old pujari ji- skin wrinkled like parchment, a forehead smeared with sandalwood, and eyes that looked older than time. He wasn't chanting. Just silently watching the aarti flame sway gently.

There was no one else.

No crowd. No noise. No judgement.

Just faith.

Shivansh hesitated. His throat tightened again. His heart, still crushed and bleeding, didn't know what it was searching for - only that it was here.

He didn't even realize when his knees gave way again. He knelt - right there - in front of the idol of Lord Shiva, his forehead lowering to the ground.

And then...

He cried.

Not the angry, loud cries from before. These were soft. Defeated. The kind of tears that come when you've reached the end of everything - and all you want is to be seen, to be heard... to be held.

His whisper broke the silence.

"I've lost her..."

He looked up slowly. Tears streaked down his face. His voice cracked with every word.

"I don't know how to bring her back..."

The old pujari had now turned toward him. Not with shock. Not with sympathy. But with a kind of calm that made it clear - he'd seen broken men like this before.

"When the world becomes too loud..." the pujari said gently, "and your heart too heavy... God calls you to silence."

Shivansh blinked at him, as if unsure whether he imagined it.

"Why here...?" he whispered. "Why now?"

The old man smiled faintly, lifting a hand to the sky.

"Because even the mightiest must bow down when their soul aches. You're not here by accident, beta. You were brought here."

Shivansh's gaze dropped again to the floor. His hands fisted in his lap.

"I've ruined everything. I let my mind destroy the one thing that mattered. She... she loved me. And I... I pushed her away."

"I never said what I was supposed to say. I never held her when she was crying for me."

"Now she's gone. And I don't know if she'll come back. Or if I even deserve her to."

The pujari ji didn't interrupt. Just listened.

And then slowly, he got up, came forward, and placed a trembling, weathered hand on Shivansh's head.

"Beta," he said quietly. "There are some questions no human can answer. Not even she... not even you."

"But when you no longer understand your path... when everything becomes dark... only one light remains."

He turned and pointed toward the idol of Lord Shiva glowing softly in the dim corner.

"That light. The divine one. Go ask Him."

Shivansh stared.

He slowly stood up, walked toward the deity - and fell to his knees again, hands folded. His breath stuttered. His entire body was trembling.

"Why...?" he whispered.

"Why now... when I started to understand her... you took her away...?"

His voice cracked again.

"She asked me so many times if I loved her. Why didn't I say it yesterday?"

"She waited... and I kept hurting her. I thought she'd never leave."

"But she did..."

And then - he folded forward again. His forehead touched the ground.

"Please bring her back. Not to me. Not just for me. But because the world doesn't deserve to lose a girl like her."

"She loved like fire. She fought like a storm. And she... she forgave like God himself."

His chest heaved again. His tears dripped onto the stone floor.

"I know I don't deserve her. I know. But if she ever comes back... this time, I'll be the one waiting."

He whispered again.

"I won't run. I won't choose pride. I won't hurt her."

Silence settled again.

And then - the faintest breeze blew through the open doors. The oil lamp's flame flickered wildly... and then stilled.

As if someone had heard.

The pujari ji smiled from behind him.

"He listens," he said. "Even when you speak through tears."

"You came here looking for answers, didn't you?"

Shivansh slowly turned.

"Yes..."

The old man nodded once.

"Then go back. The answer isn't written in stone or sky. It's within you. Go live it."

Shivansh stood there for a long time. Just... breathing. Letting the weight of everything settle.

He wasn't okay. Not yet.

But something had shifted.

And maybe, just maybe... that was enough.

He turned back, walked toward his car, eyes still heavy - but no longer blind.

The road was still empty.

But now, he wasn't driving to run.

He was driving to return.

The grand palace lay cloaked in midnight silence.

Not a single soul stirred in the corridors. The chandeliers had been dimmed. Even the guards at the gate didn't question his presence — they knew his walk too well, his silhouette too painfully familiar.

Shivansh stepped across the marble floor, his footsteps echoing like whispers of a life once full.

He paused at the hallway — the one that led to her room. Their room.

But he didn't turn that way.

He couldn't.

That room had stopped being the day she left.

He headed instead to a big chamber enough to sorrow him— one that had once been his childhood retreat, now a storehouse of things untouched and forgotten. It was distant from the main palace quarters, far from the laughter of cousins or the weight of royal traditions.

He opened the door slowly.

The scent inside was different — dry, faintly metallic. But then his eyes fell on a small chest tucked beneath the carved wooden cabinet. He knelt and opened it.

And there it was…

Her dupatta — that soft yellow one she used to throw carelessly around her shoulder, the same one she once used to tie around his wrist in jest.

A letter she had written on his birthday, in her messy, rushed handwriting.

A bracelet he once gifted her — she had returned it, but not before wearing it for a whole month.

A handkerchief she always carried — stitched with tiny little stars in the corner.

And a pair of his own clothes — a plain black kurta and a hoodie. Clothes he had worn often, but they had slowly started smelling like her. Because she stole them. And claimed them. Without ever saying a word.

Shivansh stared at these objects for a long moment.

Then he pulled out a medium-sized fruit crate from the corner — an empty wooden box used by the kitchen staff to carry deliveries. He gently placed her belongings inside, one by one. With each fold, each touch, it felt like he was preserving a piece of her.

"This room isn't mine anymore," he whispered to himself.

He stood up, lifted the crate in his arms, and without a backward glance, walked out of the chamber — and out of the palace.

No one stopped him.

Even the guards saw the hollow in his eyes and didn't question. Maybe they knew. Maybe they'd seen love break before.

The car glided along the dark roads of Jaipur. Headlights barely cutting into the thick fog of early dawn.

He didn't tell anyone where he was going. He didn't leave a note. Didn't send a message.

His family didn't need to see him break.

Not again.

Not after everything.

He had one place no one knew about — a small penthouse, far on the edge of the city. Tucked above an old building, partially abandoned. The world didn't know he owned it. It wasn't luxurious. Just... quiet.

And right now, that's all he needed.

The sky was turning a muted blue as he parked the car, stepped out with the crate in hand, and walked up the lonely stairwell. The walls echoed with nothing but his own breath.

No voices.

No footsteps.

Just silence.

Perfect silence.

He opened the rusted metal door and stepped into the penthouse.

It was empty. Still. And clean. The kind of place no one ever disturbed.

He placed the crate down by the wall, sat on the floor beside it, and finally let out a long breath — like he'd been holding it for years.

The wind howled faintly outside. The curtains swayed.

And there, in that little forgotten space — Shivansh broke down again.

No grand gestures.

No dramatic screams.

Just quiet sobs.

The kind of sobs that come when there's no one left to pretend for.

He picked up the dupatta and pressed it to his face. Still soft. Still warm with her presence, even if it was just imagination.

"I'm sorry, Isha," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I couldn't be what you needed."

His voice disappeared into the empty corners of the room.

"But you were everything. You still are."

As the sky outside lit up with the first rays of dawn, he remained curled on the floor — surrounded by the last things she left behind.

And somewhere, deep in his broken heart, he silently made a vow:

He would carry her love.

Her memory.

Even if it destroyed him.

Because some people don't move on.

They simply survive.

And wait.

For that person to come in her life.

Again.

Maybe.

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

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Aage kya hoga? Hmm?

This was the last chapter of phase 2.

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