The city woke up to Rohini Kothari's downfall, but by nightfall, a different storm was brewing.
The penthouse was quiet except for the faint hum of the city below. Rohini sat on the edge of the couch, still in the same steel-grey dress she'd worn to the boardroom earlier. Her phone lay silent now—no calls of support, only vultures circling. Her empire, her name, her dignity—they were all under siege.
Shivansh entered, loosening his tie, his face unreadable. He had been gone all day, speaking to lawyers, tech analysts, and people whose names never appeared in newspapers but could end careers with a single move.
"They've buried me," she said flatly, her voice void of emotion. "In less than twelve hours, they've destroyed everything I've worked for."
He placed a thick folder on the coffee table. "No. They've only lit the fire. Now we burn them back."
She looked up sharply. "What is this?"
"Proof," he replied simply. "Of Vikrant's financial manipulations, bribery, offshore accounts. Enough to get him investigated and possibly imprisoned. And Kanika—" His eyes hardened. "—is about to regret ever stepping back into my life."
Rohini stared at him. "How?"
Shivansh sat opposite her, leaning forward. "She planted the device that recorded us. The tech team traced it back to her apartment. She handed Vikrant the weapon he used against you."
Rohini's lips curved into something between a smirk and a snarl. "Then we use her to destroy him."
The PlanOver the next hour, Shivansh laid it out. They wouldn't simply defend themselves—they would attack. A quiet leak to the right journalist about Vikrant's shell companies. A forged "anonymous tip" to the anti-corruption bureau. And the pièce de résistance: a private dinner with Kanika, where she'd unknowingly incriminate herself on tape.
As the pieces clicked into place, Rohini felt something she hadn't in days—control. And she realized something else too: she wasn't just fighting to save her empire anymore. She was fighting with him.
When the meeting ended, silence stretched between them. Not uncomfortable—charged.
"You didn't have to do this," she said softly.
Shivansh's gaze locked on hers. "Yes, I did."
Her throat tightened. "Why?"
For a moment, he didn't answer. Then, slowly, he stood, crossing the small space between them until he was right in front of her. "Because I've lost everything once. I won't lose what matters again."
His words sank into her like an arrow. She didn't want to ask what mattered, didn't want to hope—but her chest ached all the same.
She stood too, almost without thinking. "Shivansh…"
The moment cracked open between them—raw, unguarded. She saw the man who had been abandoned, who had clawed his way back from ruin. And he saw the woman who had built walls so high no one had dared scale them—until him.
When he cupped her face, she didn't stop him. When his lips met hers, it wasn't gentle—it was fierce, consuming, a collision of pain and defiance and something terrifyingly real. She clutched his shirt like he was the only solid thing in a world of shifting ground.
When they finally broke apart, breathless, she rested her forehead against his chest, feeling his heartbeat steady and strong.
"We end him," she whispered.
His arms tightened around her. "We will."
The SetupTwo nights later, Kanika arrived at an exclusive rooftop restaurant, unaware that every word she spoke was being recorded. Shivansh sat across from her, cool and detached, as she poured herself a glass of wine.
"You deserve better than her," Kanika purred. "She's using you as much as you're using her. We could fix everything together—get Vikrant out of the way, take back what was yours."
"And how do you propose we do that?" Shivansh asked, voice carefully neutral.
Kanika smiled, leaning in. "I already gave Vikrant the leverage to ruin her once. I can do it again. This time, permanently."
Perfect. Caught in crystal clarity.
The next morning, the recording—and Vikrant's financial crimes—hit the news like a bomb.
By noon, law enforcement raided Vikrant's offices.
By evening, Kanika's name was dragged through every media outlet as the woman who conspired to topple Rohini Kothari.
And by night, Rohini walked into the boardroom with Shivansh at her side, head high, as every single director stood to applaud her survival.
Later, in the quiet of their penthouse, she turned to him.
"You saved me," she said.
He shook his head. "No. We saved you."
She stepped closer, her eyes softer now. "And what if I don't want to go back to pretending this marriage is just business?"
His smile was slow, dangerous, and full of promise. "Then we stop pretending."
And when he kissed her this time, there was no pretense at all—only fire, fury, and the beginning of something unstoppable.