Riva sat in her office, wrapped in a navy-blue cropped cardigan made of ribbed knit fabric with long sleeves. Underneath, she wore a cream, sleeveless ribbed crop top with a crew neckline. She paired them with a navy-blue high-waisted skirt adorned with gold buttons.
The skirt had a slightly flared, structured silhouette.

Her white knee-high boots clanked softly against the floor as she tapped them in rhythm every time she turned a page in the file she was holding. Her eyes moved between the pages and the clock hanging on the wall.

She set the file down. “He should be here soon,” she murmured.

Almost on cue, Vidharth entered the room and settled into the seat opposite hers. His gaze shifted to her—he was looking at her intently. His eyes scanned her face, pausing when they reached a small cut near her eye. It hadn’t been there the last time they met.

“What happened to your eye?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

Riva paused. She hadn’t expected him to notice. No one else had—it was a tiny cut caused by her own carelessness. But he did.

“It’s nothing. Just a minor cut,” she said, brushing it off.

Vidharth nodded and handed her the documents. She took them and began reading.

“Vidharth! Are you sure about this?” Riva asked, twirling the pen in her hand as her eyes shifted between the paper in front of her and Vidharth.

“I’m more than sure, Riva. It’s just a year. So please,” he whispered, his voice low, hands clasped tightly under the table.

“Yes, Vidharth—it’s a whole damn year! And why are you being so stubborn when this could all be resolved just by telling your parents the truth?” Riva pushed, but Vidharth didn’t budge.

“Are you going to sign them or not?” he asked through clenched teeth.

Riva sighed but signed the documents anyway.

Her phone rang.

She glanced at the screen—Vidharth’s eyes also flicked toward the glowing display. It was Shubhra.

“Hello?” Riva answered, holding the phone to her ear with her usual greeting.

Vidharth leaned in slightly, trying to listen. Riva immediately shoved him back, causing him to stumble in his seat. She shot him a glare. He sulked, mouth twitching in irritation, and slumped back into his chair.

“Are you sure?”

“Will it be okay?”

“Alright. I get it. I’ll arrange everything.”

The call ended with that last sentence.

Vidharth stared at her, brows furrowed in suspicion.

“What?” Riva asked, rolling her eyes.

“What did she say?” he asked, folding his arms and leaning forward, elbows resting on the glass table.

“Why should I tell you?” she shot back, mimicking his posture and placing her hands on the table as well.

“Well… uhmm,” Vidharth hesitated, clearly lost in thought. “For Adwait. You know he’s really upset about everything that’s happened.”

“Hmm… I know,” she acknowledged, about to continue when she paused again and added, “It’s nothing special. Just business stuff.”

Vidharth gave a slow nod, though it was clear he remained unconvinced.

“So, when should I pick you up for shopping?” he chimed in, smoothly changing the subject.

“The day after tomorrow,” she responded, exhaling sharply.

“Alright, then it’s settled.”
He walked out of her cabin, and she sank back into her chair.

“Uff… what’s going to happen now?” she whispered to herself.

Spinning the bottle of beer in my hands, I tried to stop the flood of thoughts—thoughts about everything I’ve been doing wrong.

I was happy. Really happy, just a few months ago. But then Adwait got married to Ava… no, not Ava—but Shubhra. The real Shubhra.

If I said I recognized her the first time we met—as if I knew who she was—that would be a lie.

Because, truth be told, she had some faint awareness of what was going on in her life. But me?

No. I was clueless. Completely clueless—until I saw that photo in her penthouse in Milan.

A picture of her parents. People I had known a long time ago.
A haunting memory that continues to torment me.
A reminder of my own wrecked life.

When I showed the photo to my parents, they confirmed it:
She is Shubhra.
Shubhra—Serenity Aunty and Girish Uncle’s daughter.

I never questioned the name. I didn’t even try to connect the dots. I believed them, just like I always had.
But there was more to it.
Maybe, deep down, I always knew—but never allowed myself to acknowledge it.

And then I met Atulya.

A woman who carries a web of secrets. Supposedly working for Shubhra, but in truth, she never was.
All she ever wanted was to harm her.

My grip on the bottle tightened, jaw clenched, as I thought about all the pain she must have caused over the years—years I knew nothing about.

Shubhra had helped her—pulled her out of the hell she called life, given her so much. Yet some people just remain snakes.

It was around that time I realized there was a new player in the game.

Vihaan.
This man had handed a bunch of documents to Shubhra.

Why? No one really knew. But it never sat right with me.

I didn’t want to pry into her life, but I was worried about Adwait. Something about it all just didn’t sit well—something had been bothering me even before they got married.

Back when Adwait asked me to look into her.

I didn’t find much. But there was one thing that caught my attention.

A photo.

I wasn’t sure if it meant anything at the time.

It was an old picture—Shubhra and Vihaan, both in school uniforms.
It wasn’t recent, but I could tell it was her. She hadn’t changed much over the years.

Yes, the 14-year-old Shubhra was different from the woman she is now, but the emptiness in her eyes was unmistakable. That hollow gaze—it’s still the same.

I pulled myself out of the memory and took a long swig, letting the cold, malty liquid burn down my throat.

Vihaan told me that the real Shubhra had died in the fire.

And if she was dead… then who was this woman?

There were more questions than answers.

I didn’t push Adwait for any explanations, but I didn’t distance myself from Shubhra either. And through it all, one thing became clear to me:

Her life is deeply entangled with mine.

There were things I never realized were wrong—until I stepped into her world.

It was Vihaan who introduced me to Rudra.
Rudra Malhotra.
I’d always known him as Sanya’s brother. What I hadn’t expected was for him to say he was a Basu.

Seriously?

Him?
Shubhra’s brother?

How?

Everything was tangled beyond comprehension, and just thinking about it left me frustrated. But at that moment, above all the confusion, I felt something else—genuine sympathy for her.

Why did she have to go through all this?

Something else that bothered me was my parents' reaction.

They said they knew her parents.
And I didn’t doubt them—not even for a moment.

I’ve always believed in them.

Why wouldn’t I?
They’re the ones who took me in after my own parents abandoned me. I placed my faith in them. I treated them like gods.

But recent events have shattered that image.

They no longer seem like angels to me.

They claimed the Rajvanshs and the Basus were enemies—but in reality, it was the opposite. I don’t know what they’re trying to gain from all this, but their intentions… they aren’t good. And I see that now.

I didn’t think any of it would affect me.
But after they tried to marry me off to Riva’s sister, it became clear—I’m under their control.

That marriage proposal wasn’t about parental concern.
It was about power. About control.

And oddly enough, I’m thankful to Riva’s cousin for shifting the pressure onto Riva instead.

It’s better to have her on my side.

With Riva, I can kill two birds with one stone.
She isn’t someone they can manipulate.
She’s fiercely loyal to Shubhra.
And through her, I might finally understand who Shubhra really is.

I don’t think my parents have realized yet that Riva isn’t someone they can control the way they try to control me.
And honestly, I’m glad they haven’t.
Because if they did, they’d stop trying—and that would make things harder for me.

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