Morning arrived without softness.
Aarohi woke to quiet movement and light slipping through the curtains. The house felt different in daylight—less secret, more watchful.
A knock came.
Mrs. Iyer stood outside. "Your schedule begins today."
"My schedule?" Aarohi asked.
"Your new life," the woman replied, then stepped aside.
Two women waited behind her. Stylists. One held a garment cover. The other carried a makeup case.
Aarohi looked past them. "Kabir arranged this?"
"Yes."
She exhaled slowly. "Then let's begin."
They dressed her in soft colors. Simple. Elegant. Clothes meant to say future without shouting it.
While one worked on her hair, the other spoke.
"Today's event is a medical innovation launch. Mr. Raichand will introduce you publicly."
"So today," Aarohi said, "I become real."
The woman smiled politely. "Today you become seen."
The hall was already full when they arrived.
Glass walls. White lights. Media. Doctors. Investors. Screens looping the Raichand Health Network logo.
Kabir waited near the stage.
In public, he looked different.
The dangerous stillness was hidden behind calm confidence. The quiet weight replaced with effortless charm. People leaned toward him when he spoke.
When he saw her, his gaze paused.
Just once.
Then he stepped forward.
"You're late," he said lightly.
"I'm here," she replied.
His hand came to rest at the small of her back.
The cameras noticed.
"Stay close," he said under his breath. "Today is theatre."
They walked together into the noise.
Questions came. Smiles followed. Congratulations layered over curiosity.
Kabir answered smoothly.
Then he took the mic.
"My work has always been my public face," he said. "But today, I want to acknowledge the person who will now stand beside me."
He turned to her.
Aarohi felt every eye shift.
"This is Aarohi," he said. "And she is not part of my success. She is my future."
Applause rose.
Cameras flashed.
His fingers tightened slightly at her back.
She smiled.
And the room accepted her.
After the speeches, after the handshakes, after the staged warmth, someone stepped into their space.
A woman.
Tall. Perfectly dressed. Calm smile. Eyes sharp.
"Kabir," she said. "You didn't tell me you were engaged."
He looked at her. "You didn't ask."
The woman's gaze moved to Aarohi.
"I'm Riya Malhotra," she said, offering her hand. "Chairwoman of Malhotra Biotech."
Her grip was firm.
Her smile was not.
"I've heard so much about you," Riya continued. "Though strangely, never your name."
Aarohi returned the smile. "Some lives stay quiet until they don't."
Riya studied her.
Then she laughed softly. "You're interesting."
Kabir's jaw tightened a fraction.
Riya leaned closer. "Do you know," she said to Aarohi, "that Kabir and I were supposed to announce something today too?"
Kabir's hand moved.
"Riya," he said.
"Relax," she replied. "I mean business. Always business."
Her eyes returned to Aarohi.
"Be careful," she added gently. "Men like him don't marry without strategy."
Then she walked away.
Aarohi felt the space she left behind.
"What was that?" she asked quietly.
"A complication," Kabir replied.
"Your complication?"
"Everyone's," he said.
They were leaving when Kabir's phone buzzed.
He checked it.
The shift was instant.
He turned to her. "We're going."
"Where?"
"Now."
The drive was fast. Silent.
Kabir didn't explain.
When the car stopped, they were not at the house.
They were at a private hospital wing.
Security stood alert.
Kabir was already out.
Inside, the smell of disinfectant filled the air.
A doctor approached. "Mr. Raichand, there was an issue with the new medication trial. We caught it early."
"Where is she?" Kabir asked.
"Room seven."
They walked quickly.
Aarohi's heart pounded.
The door opened.
Her mother lay on the bed. Awake. Pale. Breathing steadily.
But wires surrounded her.
"What happened?" Aarohi asked.
"Minor reaction," the doctor said. "She's stable."
Kabir nodded. "Leave us."
The doctor hesitated, then did.
Aarohi moved to the bed, taking her mother's hand.
"I'm here, Aai," she whispered.
Her mother's eyes opened slowly. "You look… different," she murmured.
Aarohi smiled. "I am."
Her mother's fingers tightened.
"Be careful," she said weakly. "Powerful people don't help without reason."
Aarohi's throat closed.
Kabir stood a few steps away.
Watching.
Guarding.
Something in his phone vibrated.
He looked down.
Read.
Then his expression hardened.
He stepped toward her.
"The reaction," he said quietly, "wasn't natural."
Aarohi looked up.
"What do you mean?"
Kabir's voice lowered.
"Someone tried to interfere with her treatment."
The room seemed to shrink.
"Who?" Aarohi asked.
Kabir's gaze went to the door.
"Someone," he said, "who already knows exactly where to hurt me."