Mature content included!
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"Shh darling, don't scream!"

Akshat Raichand's voice was a low murmur against her skin, his lips brushing her nipple that he'd just wetted with his mouth, leaving it glistening and sensitive in the cool night air.

He was hovering over her, shirtless, his broad shoulders blocking out most of the dim light filtering through the silk of the tent. His muscles flexed with every small movement, the ridges of his abdomen pressed against her thighs as he positioned himself above her, completely in control.

And Aashi Grewal was completely naked beneath him.

Her lehenga was discarded somewhere in the corner of the tent, her blouse thrown carelessly over his shoulder hours ago when he'd first pulled her inside this makeshift haven. Her skin was flushed, her chest heaving, and she could feel the heat pooling low in her belly as he looked down at her with those dark, hungry eyes.

"Aksh!" she gasped, her fingers digging into his shoulders. "Y-you're the one making me scream!"

A slow, infuriating smile curved his lips. That smile. The one that made her knees weak even when she was already lying down. He leaned closer, his mouth hovering just above hers, close enough that she could taste his breath.

"But this is not a place to scream, darling," he whispered, his voice silk and sin wrapped together. "Look at where we are..."

Aashi's eyes darted around the tent, the sheer silk walls, the soft cushions they'd piled up, the faint glow of fairy lights from the terrace outside filtering through the fabric. They were on the terrace of the palace. Her family's palace. The same palace where hundreds of guests were currently milling about, where the wedding preparations were in full swing, where her father and her brother were probably wondering where she'd disappeared to.

They were supposed to be getting married tomorrow.

And here she was, completely naked in a tent on the terrace, about to let her fiancé have his way with her for the hundredth time this month. They couldn't keep their hands off each other. It had been like this since the engagement, since the moment he'd slid that ring onto her finger and she'd realized, this man is mine. Forever.

"O-okay, okay, I won't scream!" she breathed, her voice trembling with need.

She tugged at his waistband impatiently. "Now fvck me please...!"

The words tumbled out of her desperate and raw, and she didn't even care how pathetic she sounded. She needed him. She always needed him. Every second of every day, she craved his touch like oxygen.

But Akshat didn't move.

He stayed hovering above her, that infuriating smile still playing on his lips, his eyes glinting with amusement. His thumb traced lazily along her collarbone, featherlight, barely touching, driving her absolutely insane.

"Desperate freak!" he murmured, the words dripping with affection disguised as mockery.

Aashi's eyes widened. Freak?

"Freak!?" she sputtered, pushing herself up on her elbows, glaring at him through the haze of her desire. "Y-You called me a freak!?"

Akshat's smile only widened, completely unrepentant. He looked like the cat that got the cream, and she wanted to wipe that smirk off his face, preferably with her lips.

"I did," he said simply, his voice low and teasing. "What are you going to do about it?"

Aashi's glare intensified. Her fingers tightened on his shoulders, nails digging in just enough to leave marks. "Then a freak's fiancé will also be a freak, Akshat!" she shot back, her voice rising. "So what does that make you, hmm? The king of freaks?"

A laugh rumbled from his chest, low and warm, and despite everything, her heart fluttered. God, she loved his laugh. She loved everything about him. Even when he was being an insufferable, teasing, beautiful bastard.

"Okay, okay," he conceded, his thumb moving to trace her lower lip. "Enough. Let's get back to what we were doing."

Aashi barely had time to nod before his mouth was on her again.

His lips trailed down her neck, across her collarbone, over the swell of her breast. She arched into him, her fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer. He took his time, torturing her slowly, his tongue tracing patterns on her skin that made her gasp and shudder.

And then his mouth found her ribs.

He kissed his way down her stomach, his lips warm and soft against her trembling skin. She could feel every breath he took, every small laugh when she squirmed beneath him. He pressed a kiss to her navel, slow and deliberate, and she felt her hips buck involuntarily.

"Aksh..." she breathed, her voice barely a whisper.

"Patience, darling," he murmured against her skin.

And then he was trailing lower, lower, his mouth moving down to-

A sound came from outside.

A soft ruffle. Footsteps. Voices. People.

SHIT.

They both froze.

Aashi's eyes flew open, her body going rigid beneath him. Akshat's head snapped up, his hand instinctively reaching for the edge of the blanket to cover her. For a moment, neither of them moved, both of them listening intently.

More footsteps. Laughter. The click of a camera.

Guests.

Someone was taking photos on the terrace. And if they opened the tent, if they saw-

Akshat was already moving, his instincts sharp. He grabbed his shirt from where he'd discarded it, yanking it over his head. His hair was mussed, his cheeks flushed, but his expression was calm, the same calm he wore in court when the prosecution was collapsing.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Aashi scrambled up, her heart pounding in her chest. "Aksh! Where's my blouse!? Where did you throw my blouse!?"

"Calm down!" he muttered. "It's here, it's-"

"I am calm!" she hissed, even as she frantically searched the tangled mess of silk and cushions. "I am perfectly calm, just-WHERE IS IT?!"

He found it crumpled in the corner and tossed it to her. She caught it, her fingers fumbling with the fabric as she tried to get it on. Her hands were shaking, her body still buzzing with unfulfilled desire, and she couldn't focus.

"Akshat! Hurry!" she whispered.

"I'm trying, darling, I'm-"

He grabbed her panty from where it had been discarded, handed it to her, and she yanked it on. Then the lehenga, still a mess, but she didn't care about perfect right now. Akshat had already pulled on his shirt, his fingers working the buttons with practiced ease, and he was helping her with the lehenga's waistband, tugging it into place.

"Breathe," he whispered, his hand cupping her cheek for just a second. "It's fine. We're fine."

She nodded, sucking in a shaky breath. Then, together, they crept toward the tent entrance.

Akshat unzipped it slowly, painfully slowly and peeked out. Aashi pressed herself against his back, peering over his shoulder.

A few people were milling about on the terrace. Guests, probably. They were taking photos of the palace lights, laughing, completely unaware that the soon-to-be bride and groom were hiding in a tent just feet away.

Aashi let out a long breath.

They were safe.

For now.

Akshat pulled back, zipping the tent closed again, and turned to face her. His expression was a mix of relief and amusement, and she could see the laughter dancing in his eyes.

"We almost got caught," he said, shaking his head.

Aashi groaned, dropping her forehead against his chest. "Yeah. And then my brother would have called off our wedding!"

She felt him go still for a second. Just a second. But she noticed.

"He still didn't agree?" he asked softly.

Aashi looked up at him, her heart clenching at the vulnerability in his eyes. She hated it. She hated that her family had made him feel like this, like he wasn't good enough, like he was something to be tolerated rather than welcomed.

She leaned into his shoulder, wrapping her arms around him, and he held her back automatically.

"You know na, Aksh..." she murmured against his chest. "Bhaiya and Dad, both of them, they're completely against me getting married to you. I don't know why they hate your family so much..."

She felt him tense beneath her.

"But they're not stopping this," she continued, pulling back to look him in the eyes. "For me. Because I love you. And because I was melting them with my cuteness."

Akshat's lips twitched. A small smile, reluctant but there. He leaned his head against hers, their foreheads touching, and she felt his breath warm against her skin.

"Of course you were," he murmured. "But don't worry," he added, his voice growing more confident, more certain. "They'll accept us once we get married. And once we have kids." He grinned, a flash of mischief. "Or once they see how happy we can be with each other."

Aashi giggled, the tension finally breaking.

"So..." she said, tilting her head up to meet his eyes. "Tomorrow I'll become Mrs. Raichand."

Akshat's smile softened. It wasn't the arrogant smirk he wore in court, not the teasing grin he gave her when he was being insufferable. This was real. This was the man beneath all the layers, the one he only ever showed her.

"Mmhmm," he hummed. "And I will become my darling's husband."

"Awww!" she cooed, reaching up to cup her face. She pressed her hands to her cheeks, feeling them flush. "Seriously! You only speak like this with me! Outside, everyone is scared of you because you're the famous criminal lawyer."

Akshat laughed, the sound low and warm.

"Yes!" she insisted. "They're all terrified of you. 'Akshat Raichand never loses a case.' 'Akshat Raichand will destroy you in court.' 'Akshat Raichand fights for truth and justice and he will-'"

He kissed her to shut her up.

It was a quick kiss, soft and affectionate, and when he pulled back, she was smiling.

"What if I do your makeup tomorrow?" she asked suddenly, her eyes lighting up.

Akshat groaned. "Darling, you're a makeup artist. At least let others do our makeup on our wedding day. Don't take stress."

"I'm not taking stress! I just want to-"

"You're taking stress," he said firmly, though his eyes were warm. "Let the others handle it. You're supposed to be the bride..."

Aashi pouted but eventually smiled. He was right. He was always right. It was infuriating. "Fine," she conceded. "But only because I'm going to be too busy being the most beautiful bride you've ever seen."

Akshat's smile widened. "You already are."

And then-

"BHAI! AKSHAT BHAI!"

The voice was sharp, panicked, and it shattered the moment like glass.

Harsh's voice. Akshat's chacha's son.

Akshat stiffened, immediately moving toward the tent entrance. Aashi stayed where she was, her heart suddenly pounding for an entirely different reason. Something was wrong. She could feel it.

Akshat opened the tent and got out. Aashi hesitated, then followed, stepping out onto the terrace.

Harsh's face was pale, completely drained of color. His eyes were wide with panic, and his hands were shaking. He looked like he'd seen a ghost.

"What happened?" Akshat demanded, his voice clipped. Professional. Lawyer-mode.

Harsh's voice came out in a stammer, the words tumbling over each other. "Bhai! Rajeev uncle is arrested!"

Akshat froze.

The air left Aashi's lungs.

Aashi thought she'd heard wrong. She must have heard wrong. Her father? Arrested? That didn't make sense. He couldn't-

"What?" she breathed, stepping out of the tent. "What are you talking about?"

Harsh's eyes darted to her, and something flickered in them, pity? Sorrow? "Bhabhi," he said, his voice cracking. "Come down. There's a war going on between your brother and badi dad!"

Aashi's mind was blank. Numb. She couldn't process any of it. Her father. Arrested. Her brother. Fighting. What was happening? What was-

"Aashi."

Akshat's voice cut through the chaos. He turned to her, his hand reaching for hers, and she saw the confusion in his eyes. But there was determination there too. The determination that made him the best criminal lawyer in the country. The determination that had won him every case he'd ever taken.

"Let's go down," he said, his voice calm and steady.

・・・・・

The three of them rushed down the stairs like their lives depended on it.

Aashi's heart was pounding so hard she could hear it in her ears, could feel it in her throat, in her temples. Her lehenga was still slightly crooked from the tent, her hair was a mess, and she didn't care. None of that mattered. Nothing mattered except the words that were still echoing in her head.

Rajeev uncle is arrested.

Your brother is fighting with badi dad.

She almost tripped on the last step, and Akshat's hand shot out to steady her, his fingers gripping her elbow. She didn't even register the touch. Her eyes were fixed ahead, scanning the grand foyer of her family's palace, searching for her brother.

The main hall of the palace was chaos.

Family members stood in clusters, their faces masks of shock and confusion. Staff hovered at the edges, whispering. Somewhere, a woman was crying, Aashi couldn't tell who.

And in the center of it all, Abhimanyu Grewal (Aashi's older brother) had his hands wrapped around Pratap Raichand's collar.

"YOU FILTHY BASTARD!" Abhimanyu's voice echoed off the marble walls, raw and furious. His knuckles were white, his jaw clenched so tight Aashi could see the veins in his neck bulging.

"You framed him! You framed my father! You destroyed him!"

His knuckles were white, his face twisted with rage, and he had the older man pressed against the marble pillar with enough force to make his shoulders slam against it. Pratap's face was red, his eyes wide, and he was struggling to breathe.

"MONSTER!" Abhimanyu snarled, his voice raw and shaking. "You think you can just destroy my family and walk away? You think you can frame my father and get away with it!?"

"BHAIYA! Stop!" Aashi screamed.

But he didn't stop.

Akshat's chachi, Gautami, was screaming somewhere in the background. Rithesh, Akshat's chacha, was trying to pull Abhimanyu away but failing miserably. Harsh was frozen at the bottom of the stairs, his face pale, his mouth open.

And then Akshat was moving.

He stepped between them in an instant, his body a shield between Abhimanyu and his father. His hands came up, pressing against Abhimanyu's chest, shoving him back hard enough to break his grip on Pratap's collar.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!?" Akshat shouted, his voice thunderous.

Abhimanyu stumbled back, his chest heaving, his eyes wild. He looked at Akshat like he wanted to kill him too. Like he wanted to kill everyone in this room.

And then he scoffed, a cold, bitter sound that cut through the chaos.

"Wow..." Abhimanyu spat, his voice dripping with venom. "Don't act like this, Akshat! Your dad was involved in money laundering! But he accused my dad! Framed him like he was clean?!"

The words hit Aashi like a physical blow.

Money laundering.

Your dad was involved.

He framed my dad.

She felt the blood drain from her face. Her legs went weak. Her grip on Akshat's arm tightened, and she didn't even realize she was holding onto him until she felt his muscles tense beneath her fingers.

Akshat froze too.

For a long, terrible moment, no one moved. No one spoke. The only sound was the ragged breathing of Abhimanyu and the muffled sobs of Gautami somewhere in the background.

Then Harsh stepped forward, his voice trembling but determined.

Harsh stepped forward, his voice trembling. "Aksh bhai, listen... Rajeev uncle and badi dad both worked on that real estate and infrastructure company. But the investment came from dirty money. Some investor, someone shady put money into the company. They both knew. They both took it."

Pratap Raichand spoke for the first time.

"No, Harsh." His voice was calm. Controlled. Too controlled. "The investment was never the problem. What happened to the investor's money after it got into our hands was the problem."

He looked at Rajeev's family with something that might have been pity. Or contempt. Or both.

"That Rajeev Grewal was too greedy for it. He used the funds. Brought the same money out, laundered it through the company, put it back in. But that money was all black. It didn't come from the right hands. The whole company drowned. I lost whatever shares I had."

Pratap's voice grew colder, harder. "I lost everything because of your father's greed. And now he's facing the consequences."

Aashi's entire body was rigid.

The words were washing over her, drowning her, and she couldn't breathe. Her father. Her father had taken dirty money. Her father had destroyed the company. Her father-

No.

No.

It wasn't true. It couldn't be true.

She instinctively stepped forward, toward her brother, needing him to deny it, needing him to tell her it was all a lie. But before she could open her mouth, Abhimanyu snapped.

"SHUT UP!" he screamed, his voice cracking. "JUST SHUT UP!"

He lunged forward again, but Akshat blocked him, shoving him back.

"Don't you dare speak filth about my dad!" Abhimanyu continued, his eyes blazing with fury. "He told me everything! Everything you did! How you framed him for everything! You think I don't know what kind of man you are? You think I don't know you've been trying to destroy our family for years?!"

He was shaking now, his fists clenched at his sides, his whole body vibrating with rage.

"Enough!" Akshat's voice cut through the chaos, sharp and commanding. For a moment, everyone froze.

Abhimanyu's eyes snapped to him, and Akshat met his gaze without flinching.

"How are you so sure that my dad framed your dad?" Akshat asked, his voice dangerously calm. "You're acting like you have all the proofs. Like you know everything. So tell me, if you have something, anything, then submit it to the police. That's how this works. You don't scream and fight. You go to the authorities."

Abhimanyu opened his mouth to respond, but Akshat wasn't finished.

His gaze shifted briefly to Aashi, just a flicker, just a second and then back to her brother.

"Why is your dad in jail," Akshat continued, his voice hardening, "if he really didn't do anything?"

The question hung in the air like a blade.

Aashi's eyes widened.

"Aksh!" she gasped, stepping forward, her voice rising. "What are you saying!?"

She grabbed his arm, pulling him to face her. Her eyes were burning, her cheeks flushed with disbelief and hurt.

"My dad didn't do anything like that!" she insisted, her voice shaking. "He wasn't that kind of person! He's not a criminal! He would never-"

Akshat stepped closer to her.

His hand came up to her face, his thumb brushing against her cheek. The touch was gentle, familiar, the same way he'd touched her just minutes ago in the tent. But something was different now. Something had shifted.

"That's what I'm saying too, darling," he said softly, his voice still calm, still steady. "My dad isn't that kind of person to frame someone either."

The words were meant to comfort her. She knew that.

But they didn't.

Because suddenly, they were on opposite sides.

Abhimanyu shoved Akshat away.

Hard.

Akshat stumbled back, caught off guard, and Aashi gasped as her brother stepped between them. Abhimanyu's face was a mask of fury, his body rigid with barely contained violence.

"Stay. Away. From. My. Sister."

Each word was a bullet.

Abhimanyu's eyes bore into Akshat's, and there was no room for argument. No room for negotiation. "I already wasn't ready to accept this marriage," Abhimanyu continued, his voice low and dangerous. "But now? After seeing how you people actually are? After seeing what your father did to mine?"

He shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips.

"I won't let this happen anymore."

Aashi's heart stopped.

"Bhaiya, wait!" she cried, stepping forward, grabbing his arm. "Why are you jumping to conclusions? We know Dad is innocent! Let's think about him first! We have to prove that!" She was pleading now, her voice cracking, her eyes filling with tears. "We can't just-we can't give up on him! He's our father! We have to fight for him!"

Abhimanyu looked down at her, and for a moment, the anger in his eyes softened. For a moment, he was just her brother again. The one who had always protected her. The one who had always been there.

But then the anger returned.

Abhimanyu's voice broke. His eyes were red-rimmed, his composure crumbling. "They've already taken him. They're calling him a criminal. A cheater. And you want to defend his family?!"

Her brother's pain hit her like a physical blow. "No! I-I'm not defending anyone. I'm thinking about Dad. He needs us. We have to do something-anythinhfor him-"

"They don't think he's worth fighting for!!" Abhimanyu spat, glaring at Akshat. "They wanted this. They planned this. You really think they'll help us??"

A flicker of movement caught Aashi's eye.

Harsh had turned on the large television mounted on the far wall. The screen flickered to life, and the sound of a news anchor's voice filled the hall.

"-breaking news from Mumbai. Rajeev Grewal, owner of the prominent real estate and infrastructure firm, has been arrested tonight on charges of money laundering, corruption, and financial fraud. The police have currently started investigating the source of the alleged funds, which are estimated to be in the range of one-twenty crores. Despite being in partnership with Pratap Raichand, Grewal appears to have acted independently in the alleged crime-"

Aashi felt her world tilt.

The words were blurring together, dissolving into meaningless noise.

Her father.

Her father.

They were calling him a cheater. A traitor. A criminal.

No.

She shook her head, her vision swimming, her body trembling. The words blurred before her eyes. The anchor kept talking, but she couldn't hear anything. Just the rushing of blood in her ears.

No.

No, no, no.

Her father wasn't-he couldn't be-

She stumbled backward, her hand covering her mouth.

Abhimanyu went still beside her.

His face was pale, his eyes wet, and for the first time since this nightmare began, he looked like he was about to break. He blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the tears, but a few escaped anyway, trailing down his cheeks like silent confession.

"Dad..." he whispered. "Dad wouldn't..."

He pulled out his phone, his fingers moving frantically over the screen. He called the company managers. He called the lawyers. He called every contact he had, anyone who might have answers, anyone who might be able to help.

Aashi did the same. Her fingers shook so badly she dropped her phone twice. She called the company manager. The HR head. Everyone she could think of.

"This is Aashi Grewal. I need to know what happened. Please-I need information-"

Everyone said the same thing.

"I don't know anything, ma'am."

"We're not sure what's happening."

Aashi heard his voice rise and fall, heard the desperation creeping in.

"I don't know-"

"No, I'm asking you-"

"What do you mean you don't know anything!?"

"I'm sorry, Miss Grewal. We'll update you as soon as-"

The calls ended. One by one. Nothing. No answers. Nothing but silence.

Everyone gave the same answer.

We don't know anything.

We're sorry, Ms. Grewal.

And then the police arrived.

The doors swung open, and a group of uniformed officers strode in. Their faces were stern, professional, completely unaffected by the chaos they were walking into.

Aashi's blood ran cold.

The lead officer stepped forward, his gaze sweeping across the room before settling on Abhimanyu.

"Mr. Abhimanyu Grewal," he said, his voice formal and clipped. "We need your statement regarding the investigation. The accused will be taken to the court very soon. We require your cooperation."

Abhimanyu nodded, his jaw tight. "Of course. We'll handle our lawyer. We'll be ready."

The officer nodded and turned to Pratap.

"Mr. Pratap Raichand," he said. "You've filed the case against Rajeev Grewal under Criminal Breach of Trust and Summary Suit. We'll require your presence for any further investigation. You're not supposed to leave the city until the case closes."

Pratap nodded, his face unreadable.

The police left.

・・・・・

An hour passed.

Aashi found herself on the balcony, the night air cold against her tear-streaked face. The palace lights glittered below, indifferent to her pain. Everything was still beautiful. Everything was still gold.

But she was drowning.

Arms wrapped around her from behind. Warm. Familiar. His scent, sandalwood and something distinctly Akshat enveloped her.

"Shhh... Darling, calm down."

She turned in his arms, her body shaking. Her lips trembled. Tears spilled down her cheeks like they would never stop.

"How should I, Aksh?" Her voice cracked, raw and broken. "They're calling my father a cheater. A criminal. They're saying he laundered money. They're saying-"

She couldn't finish. The words choked her.

His hands cupped her face, thumbs brushing away tears that kept coming. His dark eyes searched hers, and she saw something there she didn't recognize.

Something that made her stomach drop.

She grabbed his shoulders, her fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt. Her eyes searched his face, desperate, pleading. "You're believing it too, right?" she asked, her voice small and broken. "Like other people?"

Akshat opened his mouth, but no words came out.

He didn't deny it.

He didn't say, Of course not, darling. I believe you. I believe your father is innocent.

He just... stood there.

And in that moment, Aashi felt something shatter inside her.

She pulled away from him, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. Her movements were hurried, frantic, like she was trying to erase every sign of weakness.

"Bhaiya is alone," she said, her voice flat. Hollow. "I'll need to go."

She turned away from him and walked back inside.

She didn't look back. She couldn't. Because if she looked back, she would break completely.

And she couldn't afford to break. Not now. Not when her father's life was on the line. Not when everything she had ever believed in was crumbling around her.

She walked down the stairs, her footsteps echoing in the empty hallway.

Behind her, Akshat stood on the balcony, alone in the darkness. His hands were clenched at his sides.

His jaw was tight. And his heart, his heart was breaking too.

But he didn't follow her. He couldn't.

Because for the first time in his life, Akshat Raichand didn't know what to do. For the first time in his life, he didn't know who to trust. His father had been his hero. His idol. The man he had looked up to his entire life. The man who had taught him to fight for truth and justice.

And now that man was accusing his fiancée's father of being a criminal.

But Aashi believed in her father.

And Akshat believed in Aashi.

So who was he supposed to trust?

He ran his hand through his hair, his chest tight with a pain he couldn't name. And then he closed his eyes, and he saw her face. The tears in her eyes. The way she had looked at him.

You're believing it too, right? Like other people?

He hadn't answered her. He hadn't said a word. And that silence, that terrible, cowardly silence might have just cost him everything.

・・・・・

The hours that followed were a blur of desperation.

Aashi and Abhimanyu sat in a room of the palace, surrounded by the remnants of what was supposed to be a celebration. The wedding decorations were still up, the flowers, the lights, the delicate silk drapes that had been carefully arranged for tomorrow's ceremony. Everything was still beautiful. Everything was still perfect.

Except nothing was perfect anymore.

Nothing would ever be perfect again.

Abhimanyu was pacing, his fists clenched at his sides, his jaw tight with barely contained fury. He had called every lawyer he knew, every contact in the legal world, anyone who might be able to help their father. But everyone gave the same answer.

I'm sorry, Mr. Grewal. The case is too strong. There's nothing we can do.

Your father is facing serious charges. Money laundering. Corruption. 120 crores. Two sections filed by Pratap Raichand. This isn't something we can fix overnight.

We need time. We need evidence.

Time.

Evidence.

Things they didn't have.

Aashi sat on the couch, her phone pressed to her ear, her voice hoarse from hours of talking. She had called everyone too. Lawyers. Company executives. Friends of her father. Anyone who might have answers.

No one did.

She ended another call and dropped her phone onto the cushion beside her. Her hands were shaking. Her entire body was shaking.

"Nothing," she whispered, more to herself than to anyone else. "No one knows anything. No one can help us."

Abhimanyu stopped pacing.

He turned to look at her, and for the first time in hours, his expression softened. He crossed the room and knelt down in front of her, his hands reaching for hers. His eyes were red-rimmed, exhausted, but there was something else there too. Something that made her stomach twist with unease.

"L-little cat," he said slowly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I need to tell you something."

She looked at him, her eyes hollow. "What?"

He took a breath.

And then he said the words that shattered whatever was left of her world.

"That fvcking fiancé of yours... he's fighting this case against us."

Aashi froze.

For a second, just a second she thought she had heard him wrong. Her brain refused to process the words. They didn't make sense. They couldn't make sense.

"W-What?" she breathed.

Abhimanyu's jaw tightened. "He took up the case, Aashi. Akshat Raichand. He's going to be the one fighting against Dad in court. He's going to be the one trying to put our father behind bars."

The words hit her like a physical blow.

She felt the air leave her lungs. Her vision swam. Her hands, still in her brother's grip, went cold.

No.

No, that couldn't be right.

Akshat wouldn't do that. He wouldn't. He knew her father. He knew her family. He knew that her father was innocent. He knew-

She remembered the look on his face on the balcony. The silence. The way he hadn't denied it when she asked if he believed her father was guilty.

He hadn't denied it. Because he believed it.

He believed her father was a criminal. And he was going to fight against her.

Abhimanyu squeezed her hands, pulling her back to the present. "I've told you a hundred times," he said, his voice hard, bitter. "He's not what you think. He's not the man you should marry. But you still wanted him. You still chose him over us. Over everything we told you. And now..."

He gestured wildly at the chaos around them. "Now, when our family is falling apart, he's already chosen his side. He didn't even hesitate, Aashi. He took up the case within hours. He's going to destroy Dad. He's going to destroy everything we have left."

Aashi looked down at her hand.

At the engagement ring on her finger. The diamond sparkled under the light, beautiful and cold and meaningless.

Tears fell from her eyes.

They landed on the ring, one after another, and she watched them slide down the metal, dripping onto her lap. She didn't wipe them away. She didn't move at all.

And then she stood up.

Her movements were slow, deliberate. Like she was moving through water. Like her body was separate from her mind, going through the motions while her soul stayed frozen somewhere far away.

"Let's go, Bhaiya," she said quietly.

Abhimanyu froze. "What?"

Aashi turned to face him. Her eyes were still wet, still red, but there was something new in them. Something hard. Something cold.

"He chose to stand with his father," she said, her voice flat and emotionless. "And I choose the same."

She stepped closer to her brother, her chin lifted, her shoulders straight.

"Love is not weakness, Bhaiya," she continued, her voice growing stronger with every word. "It's not blind devotion. It's not about sacrificing yourself for someone who wouldn't do the same for you. I loved him. I still love him. But love doesn't mean I have to destroy myself. It doesn't mean I have to abandon my father. It doesn't mean I have to stand here and watch him tear apart my family while I do nothing."

She paused, her voice cracking slightly before she steadied it.

"I chose him over everything. Over you. Over Dad. Over the warnings you gave me. I chose him because I believed in him. I believed he would never hurt me like this. But I was wrong. And that's on me. That's my mistake. But I won't keep making it."

Abhimanyu stared at her.

His little cat.

His baby sister who had always been so soft, so gentle, so quick to forgive. The girl who had cried for days when her first pet died. The girl who had hugged him when he failed his exams. The girl who had always, always taken Akshat's side no matter what.

But this girl standing in front of him now, this girl was different.

This girl was broken.

And she was putting herself back together with steel and fire. "Let's go home," Aashi said quietly. "It's useless to stay here now."

Abhimanyu nodded slowly. He didn't say anything. He didn't argue.

・・・・・

The palace was silent now.

The chaos had subsided hours ago. The guests had been sent home. The decorations still hung, mocking everyone with their faded beauty. The tent on the terrace, the one where Aashi and Akshat had been tangled together just hours before, stood empty and forgotten.

Aashi walked through the hallways alone.

Her brother was in the study, making calls, trying to salvage whatever was left of their family's reputation. Her mother was in her room, sedated by the family doctor, unable to cope with the news of her husband's arrest. The palace that had once been filled with laughter and celebration was now a tomb.

But Aashi wasn't heading to her outside.

She was heading to Akshat's. She reached his door. She didn't knock. She pushed it open.

Akshat was standing by the window, his back to her, his silhouette sharp against the moonlight. He was still wearing the same shirt from earlier, the one she had helped him button in the tent. The sleeves were rolled up, revealing his forearms, and his hair was disheveled from running his fingers through it too many times.

He turned when he heard the door.

And then he saw her.

His expression shifted immediately. The cold, controlled mask he had worn in the foyer crumbled, replaced by something softer. Something almost vulnerable.

"Darling?" he said, his voice low and concerned.

He stepped toward her, his hand reaching out, and that single word, that familiar endearment, broke something inside her.

Aashi glared at him.

Her eyes were wet, her cheeks stained with tears she hadn't bothered to wipe away. But there was fire in her gaze. Fire and fury and a pain so deep it had no name.

"How could you act like this, Akshat?" she demanded, her voice shaking.

Akshat froze. His hand dropped to his side.

"What, Aashi?" he asked carefully.

Aashi stepped into the room, her fists clenched at her sides. The door swung shut behind her, and she didn't care. She was shaking. Her whole body was trembling with the force of everything she was holding inside.

"You decided to fight this case," she said, her voice cracking. "You decided to fight this case and put my father behind the bars!"

Akshat's eyes didn't change. There was no guilt in them. No shame. Just a calm, steady resolve that made her want to scream.

"I decided to fight this case," he said slowly. "That's true, darling. But putting your father behind the bars is not a decision I can make. That's up to the court. That's up to the evidence."

The words burned through her like acid.

Aashi let out a bitter laugh. It was hollow, empty, completely devoid of humor. "Fine," she said, her voice hardening. "Then fight this. I will too. But remember, we're not on the same sides anymore."

Akshat looked at her properly now.

His eyes traveled over her face, taking in the tear tracks, the trembling lips, the way she was holding herself together by sheer force of will. He stepped closer, and before she could stop him, his hands were cupping her face.

His thumbs brushed across her cheeks, wiping away the tears. "When the truth comes out," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "We'll be on the same side again."

Aashi's eyes widened.

Every word he was speaking so calmly, so normally, felt like an indirect attack on her father. He was so sure. So confident. As if he already knew the truth. As if he had already decided that her father was guilty.

She grabbed his wrists. Her fingers tightened around them, gripping him so hard that her knuckles went white. She hled his hands in front of her like a shield.

"Then let's end this here," she said, her voice cold and final. "We'll see after the truth comes out."

Akshat went still.

His expression flickered. Just for a second. Just long enough for her to see the pain beneath the surface.

He had expected this.

Because he knew her. He knew her better than anyone. He knew she would do this. He knew she would walk away.

But the way she was saying it, while clutching his hands so tightly, like she was afraid to let go, like her words weren't real, that was what broke him.

She released his hands and stepped back. Akshat stayed where he was, his arms falling limply to his sides.

"Say it with your heart, Aashi," he said quietly.

She went quiet for a long moment. As if she was steadying herself. Trying to do what he said. Trying to say it with her heart. But her heart knew exactly what she wants.

"I-I'm calling this off!" The words tore out of her, ragged and broken. Her body felt like it was splitting in two. She could actually feel the pain in her chest, sharp and relentless, like someone was carving out her heart with a dull knife. Every breath hurt. Every word hurt. Everything hurt.

Akshat smiled. It wasn't a nice smile.

It was bitter and mocking and self-deprecating. "It's impossible for you, Darling," he said, his voice low. "It's impossible for you to say that with your heart."

Aashi looked at him through blurry, tear-blocked eyes.

"It's also impossible for me to stay with you, Akshat." she said, her voice so quiet she barely heard it herself.

He flinched. Just slightly. Just enough for her to notice.

But she kept going. "I'm not blaming you for not standing with me," she continued, her voice steadying. "He's your father. I'd choose him if I were in your place. But-"

She stopped. Took a breath.

"Not like this. Not by taking up the case to fight against my dad. If you really felt like I didn't matter when it comes to your father who lost his shares... the least you could do was call off our wedding and support your father mentally. But no. You chose to bring my family down. You chose to destroy everything I have left."

Akshat stepped closer.

"Aashi," he said softly. "Fighting the case doesn't mean I'm against you."

"But I only feel like it, Akshat." Her voice was broken now. Completely, utterly broken. "I only feel like you're against me. And I didn't major in law or justice to understand things logically or practically. So I just think about what I see. I see you deciding to pick sides when our families are against each other."

She paused, her gaze meeting his.

"So why shouldn't I choose too? I'm picking a side, Akshat. Your opposite side. Where you and I will not be holding hands like this anymore."

Akshat's eyes went cold. Unreadable.

But she saw it. The hurt. The devastation. The way his hands clenched at his sides, fighting the urge to reach for her. "Fine," he said, his voice flat and empty. "Fine, Aashi Grewal. We're both alike now. Because two years of love means nothing to us when circumstances turn like this."

Aashi looked down at her hands.

Akshat shook his head. "But we can't pretend to hate each other-"

"I hate you."

The words slipped out before she could stop them.

I hate you.

Akshat froze. He genuinely thought he heard it wrong.

"What?" he breathed.

Aashi looked up at him, her eyes wild with pain. "I don't know, Akshat," she said, her voice trembling. "I can't feel anything except this disgusting thought of you standing in the court and tearing my dad apart. And I hate it. I hate everything. I hate you."

Akshat stared at her.

And then, slowly, he smiled. It was a cold smile. A dangerous smile. The kind of smile he wore in court when he was about to destroy a witness.

"Keep hating me," he said softly. "Keep fighting. Keep waiting until you see the truth."

Aashi nodded, not trusting herself to speak. "I will," she finally said. "We're leaving tonight. My chachi is not feeling well. She's been worried sick."

She turned.

She took a step toward the door.

And then she felt a force stopping her.

Her heart leaped into her throat. She expected it to be Akshat. She expected him to grab her wrist, to spin her around, to say Don't leave, Aashi. She expected him to fight for her. To do something, anything to make her stay.

But when she turned back, it wasn't his hand.

It was her dupatta.

It had gotten caught on Akshat's watch. The fabric was tangled around the metal, holding her in place while he just stood there, looking down at it.

His hands were at his sides.

He wasn't even touching her.

And that hurt more than anything else.

Aashi's body went still.

She looked at the dupatta. At the way it was wrapped around his wrist. At the way he was just standing there, making no move to free her.

She could have waited for him to untangle it. She could have reached down and done it herself.

But she didn't.

Instead, in a burst of high-end fury and pain that made her chest ache, she grabbed the fabric and tore it.

The sound of ripping silk echoed through the room.

Aashi held the torn dupatta in her hands for a moment, staring at the frayed edges. And then she turned and walked out of the room without looking back.

The door slammed shut behind her.

Akshat stood alone in the moonlit room, his eyes fixed on the small piece of fabric still caught on his watch.

It was just a scrap now. A torn piece of silk that had been part of her outfit. But it was hers. And it was still tangled around his wrist.

He slowly raised his hand.

His fingers brushed against the fabric, soft and delicate.

He thought about the tent. About the way she had felt in his arms. About the way she had laughed when he kissed her neck. About the way she had said I'll become Mrs. Raichand with such joy in her eyes.

And now.

Now it was gone.

He shook his head slowly.

"It's not over, Aashi."

He lifted the fabric to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against the silk.

"How could you think this man will leave you? I'm just letting you walk away now. But you will be back to me very soon, darling."
_______________________________________________

How's the prologue?? It's too long ofc... But the chapters will be half this length!

The continuation of this book completely depends on votes and comments.