⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓𝟎˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆
"I fucking love you, damn it!"
The words tore out of me like something that had been chained for too long.
For a second, the air between us went still — no sound, no breath, just silence heavy enough to crush bones.
Ritvika froze. Her trembling lips parted, eyes wide, the tears on her cheeks glistening under the dim bedside lamp.
She looked at me like she didn't know whether to believe me or run away.
Her throat worked as she tried to speak, her voice barely holding itself together.
"Y-you..." she whispered. "You love me?"
Her tone wasn't soft. It was disbelief, fear, confusion — all tangled into one.
I didn't answer. I couldn't. My lungs felt tight, and my pulse was loud enough to drown every thought in my head.
She blinked, the tears falling faster now, one after another. "No..." she said quietly, shaking her head as if trying to shake away my words. "No, you can't... you don't... not me..."
"Ritvika—"
She took a step back, her voice trembling. "You yell at me, you ignore me— and now you say you love me? What kind of love is that?"
Her words hit like glass shattering in slow motion. But I deserved every one of them.
I ran a hand through my hair, trying to steady the chaos in my chest. "It's the only way I knew to keep you safe," I said hoarsely.
"Safe?" she echoed, almost laughing through her tears. "From what, Vidyut? From yourself?"
I swallowed hard. My fists clenched at my sides. She doesn't know. She shouldn't know.
Her breathing was uneven; her eyes were searching my face for something, anything that made sense. "You're lying," she said after a moment, voice breaking. "You're saying this because I'm falling apart, because you pity me—"
"Don't," I interrupted sharply, my tone low but trembling. "Don't call what I feel pity."
She looked at me, startled by the quiet fire in my voice.
I took a step closer, my words slow and raw. "I tried to stay away. I tried to be the cold bastard you thought I was. But every time you smiled... every damn time you looked at me like I was human — it got harder."
Her eyes flickered, confusion softening into something else. Something fragile.
"I don't understand..." she whispered. "You love me, but you don't trust me enough to tell me the truth?"
I exhaled shakily, guilt pressing against my ribs. "Because the truth destroys everything it touches, Ritvika."
Her tears stopped — but her silence was worse. She just stood there, staring at me with a kind of quiet heartbreak that burned deeper than any scream.
I reached out slowly, my fingers almost brushing hers before I stopped myself. "You think I hate you," I murmured. "But I've spent months hating myself for ever letting you near me."
"Then why?" she whispered again. "Why love me at all?"
My throat closed up, but I forced the words out anyway — raw, trembling, helpless.
"Because I can't not."
For a moment, neither of us moved. The air felt alive — heavy with everything unspoken.
And then I said it again, quieter this time, more like a confession than an outburst.
"I love you, Ritvi. I've loved you since the day you walked into my chaos and somehow made it look like peace."
Her mind was spinning — words, faces, names — everything crashing into one another.
"I'm not understanding anything," she choked out, her breath coming in sharp bursts.
"How... how is Divya connected to Roohi?
Who is Siya? And why don't I know anything about her?
How are they all connected, Vidyut?" Her voice trembled as if her world was splitting apart.
"Please tell me, na... Divya told me so many terrible things about you.
.. I'm not understanding anything, please—please tell me! "
Her voice cracked on the last word, and the sight of her — trembling, broken, gasping for air — tore something inside him.
Vidyut's chest tightened painfully as he stepped forward. Without thinking, he pulled her into his arms.
This time... she didn't resist.
Her fists clutched his shirt weakly as sobs wracked through her small frame. Her tears seeped into his chest, burning against his skin like guilt itself.
He shut his eyes, holding her tighter, his heart thundering. "Shhh..." he whispered against her hair, his voice rough, low, desperate. "Don't cry... please, don't cry."
Her shaking didn't stop.
He cupped the back of her head gently. "Okay, listen," he breathed, his tone trembling between control and emotion. "You want to know everything, right?"
She nodded, her breath hitching.
"Shh..." he murmured again, pressing her closer, his heart heavy as he whispered —
"I'll tell you everything... but just... stop crying, okay?"
The silence that followed his words felt heavy enough to crush the air between them.
Ritvika didn't move. Her face was pale, eyes swollen from crying, her breathing uneven. Vidyut still had his hand on her arm — firm, steady, but trembling faintly beneath the surface.
"Please..." he whispered, his voice rough. "Let me tell you everything. Just... let me explain."
Ritvika nodded — barely — the motion so fragile it could've been mistaken for a shiver.
Vidyut exhaled deeply, as though preparing to reopen a wound that had never really healed. His gaze dropped to the floor, and for a long moment, he said nothing. Only the faint ticking of the wall clock filled the silence.
Then, finally, he spoke.
"She was just nineteen," he began softly. "Siya. That was her name."
The way he said it — quiet, hesitant, almost reverent — made Ritvika's throat tighten.
"She was studying at one of the colleges papa's company funded through the Rajvansh Trust. A bright girl. Soft-spoken. The kind that teachers always praised. She used to volunteer at every small event, every charity drive. I remember her because she once helped at an orphanage event I attended."
He paused, as if replaying the image in his mind. "She was shy, but kind. Always smiling. I didn't even know her well. Just saw her, once or twice. That's it."
Ritvika's heartbeat slowed, her eyes fixed on him.
"But then one night..." His voice wavered, a subtle tremor of memory and rage. "One night changed everything."
He looked away, the muscles in his jaw tightening.
"It was late — around midnight. I got a call from one of the security officers at the college.
He said a girl had been found unconscious near the old campus ground, and that the police hadn't arrived yet.
There was no ID, nothing. Just a broken phone, torn clothes, and blood. "
Ritvika's breath hitched.
"I reached there before anyone else," he continued, his voice low but steady now. "I didn't know who she was at first. But when I saw her face..." He closed his eyes, exhaling shakily. "It was her. Siya. The same girl from the orphanage event."
He paused, as though the memory itself was cutting through him. "She was half-conscious, trying to speak, but nothing made sense. She was terrified. She just kept saying one thing — 'Don't let them find me again.' That's all."
Ritvika's lips trembled, tears threatening again.
"I took her to CityCare Hospital," Vidyut went on. "Signed the papers myself. They said it was... an assault case. That she'd been violated, brutally. And that she might not survive the night."
He clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white. "She was just a kid, Ritvika. Just nineteen."
Ritvika covered her mouth, a muffled sob escaping her.
"I stayed there all night," he continued, his tone softer now, breaking in places. "The police came, asked questions, took her clothes for evidence. But Siya... she wasn't in a state to talk. She was trembling even in her sleep. She'd flinch at every sound, every shadow. They sedated her."
He looked up, eyes distant — lost in that night. "I remember sitting outside her room. There was this light... flickering above the corridor. It felt like the world itself was holding its breath."
Ritvika wiped her tears silently, watching him. For once, his voice wasn't laced with his usual composure or arrogance. It was raw — stripped bare.
"By morning," he said, "she was stable. The doctors said she'd live, but her condition is not good at all. Trauma."
He swallowed hard. "I stayed a few more hours. Then I left. I thought... once she recovered, I'd visit again. Maybe the trust could help her education, her therapy — something. But that never happened. Because the very next day..."
He stopped, the words hanging midair, unfinished.
"The next day what?" Ritvika whispered, her voice barely audible.
He didn't answer immediately. He just looked at her — his expression unreadable.
"She vanished," he said finally. "She was moved to another hospital. No one told me where. The staff refused to say anything. They said the family took her."
Ritvika frowned slightly, confusion flickering through the pain. "Family?"
"Yes," he replied quietly. "Her mother had arrived that morning. I didn't meet her. Didn't get the chance. By the time I came back the next day, Siya was gone."
He rubbed his temples, exhaling slowly. "I didn't think much then. I assumed they wanted privacy — to heal in peace. I understood. So I didn't push."
He leaned back against the wall, his voice trembling now. "But something about that night never left me. Her face, the fear in her eyes... it haunted me. Every time I closed my eyes, I could hear her whisper again — 'Don't let them find me.'"
Ritvika stared at him, her pulse uneven. She had seen Vidyut angry, seen him cold, furious, cruel — but never like this. Never this quiet, this broken.
He ran a hand through his hair, his voice barely a whisper. "You know what's the worst part? When I found out later that she was one of the trust's scholars — that she comes from a middle class family so I thought maybe I could help her for her medical things but her family refused."
He laughed softly — bitter, hollow. "I thought maybe they just wanted to forget. But no one really forgets, do they?"
Ritvika shook her head faintly, her chest tightening painfully.
"I remember the way she smiled at that orphanage event," Vidyut said, his voice softer now — almost fragile. "She was carrying those donation boxes, remember? I'd gone there for a quick inspection. She accidentally bumped into me and spilled files all over. She apologized a hundred times."
He smiled faintly — a sad, distant curve of his lips. "She was so nervous. Her hands were shaking, but she still made sure every kid in that orphanage had food before she even sat down to eat herself. That's who Siya was."
Ritvika's tears finally fell freely. Her voice trembled. "And... after that night... did you never see her again?"
His expression hardened. "I tried to. I really did. But somehow, she disappeared from every contact point. College records, trust details — wiped."
He looked down, his voice dropping. "And for years, I kept wondering why. Why she wouldn't let me help. Why her mother never reached out. Why her name would suddenly come up whenever someone wanted to hurt me."
He exhaled slowly, almost defeated. "But I didn't know then what I know now. That her pain... her suffering... was about to become my curse too."
Ritvika blinked through her tears, confusion clouding her eyes. "What do you mean?"
Vidyut met her gaze, the darkness in his eyes soft but deep. "You'll understand, Ritvika. I promise I'll tell you everything. But this— this is where it started. With a girl named Siya, who trusted the wrong people. And a man who tried to save her... and failed."
He stepped closer to her, his voice low, trembling with truth and exhaustion.
"I couldn't save her that night, Ritvika. I still see her eyes in my dreams sometimes. I hear her screaming. I remember her blood on my hands when I lifted her into the car."
Ritvika's hand went to her mouth again as she choked back a sob.
Vidyut's eyes glistened, his words a whisper. "She was just a girl. And the world broke her in ways no one should ever be broken."
Silence. Just the sound of both their uneven breathing — hers fragile, his heavy.
Ritvika finally spoke, her voice trembling. "You said she was nineteen... and that she vanished. Did you— ever find out what happened to her after that?"
His eyes met hers — a look that said too much and not enough. "Yes," he whispered. "But that part of the story... is worse."
And before Ritvika could ask more, he said softly, "That's what I'll tell you next."
He turned away slightly, his shoulders tense, his breath unsteady — and Ritvika knew whatever came next wasn't going to be easy to hear.
Ritvika's fingers trembled against the edge of the sofa. Her throat felt dry, her heart pounding against her ribs as though trying to break free.
"What... what do you mean worse?" she whispered.
Vidyut's gaze stayed fixed on the floor for a long moment. His jaw was tight, his breathing uneven—like he was gathering the strength to tear open a wound that had never healed.
Then, without looking at her, he spoke.
"The next morning... everything changed."
He leaned back slightly, his hand brushing across his face, as though trying to wipe away something that wasn't just sweat—but shame, frustration, exhaustion.
"I got a call from the hospital's administrator," he said, his voice gravelly.
"He said the police had arrived again. This time, with a different tone.
They weren't there to question—they were there to accuse. "
Ritvika's breath caught. "Accuse?"
He nodded faintly. "They said the girl had taken my name."
Ritvika's face drained of colour. "What...?"
He finally looked up at her—his eyes hollow but steady. "They said Siya had told them one of the men who hurt her was me—Vidyut Rajvansh."
The words dropped like shards of glass between them. Ritvika froze, the sound of her pulse roaring in her ears.
Vidyut's lips curved in something between disbelief and bitterness.
"I didn't even know how to react at first. I thought they were joking.
That it was some kind of misunderstanding.
But when I reached the station..."
He paused, exhaling harshly.
"...it wasn't a misunderstanding. It was already all over the news. "
Ritvika's eyes widened. He continued, his tone bitter, trembling slightly.
"Local reporters had camped outside the hospital. Flashing cameras, microphones, chaos. They were screaming—'Businessman lakshay Rajvansh's son accused in student rape case.'"
His voice cracked at the last words, and Ritvika flinched.
"I was stunned. I kept saying there must be some mistake—that I was the one who saved her, took her there.
But they wouldn't listen."
He raked his fingers through his hair, eyes wild with the memory.
"They already had a statement—apparently from her family.
They said Siya told them before she was sedated that one of the men called himself Vidyut.
And since I was the one who brought her in, they connected the dots. "
Ritvika's lips trembled. "But... you didn't even know her personally."
"Exactly." His tone was sharp, almost desperate. "But that didn't matter. People don't wait for proof when it comes to headlines."
He let out a shaky breath. "They painted me like a monster overnight. 'Heir to Rajvansh Enterprises accused in brutal assault.' My father's company name was dragged through the mud. He was a respected businessman, and I was just trying to build my own path—but one lie destroyed everything."
Ritvika's hands pressed against her mouth. Her tears slipped silently now. "What did you do?"
He gave a short, humourless laugh. "What could I do? I kept saying I was innocent. My lawyers tried to get CCTV footage, but the cameras near the old campus had been tampered with. Every single piece of evidence that could've cleared my name—gone."
He paused, eyes darkening. "And then came the police reports. They had my car's registration number."
Ritvika frowned, confused. "How?"
"Because someone used my number plate. My car had been in the garage that night—I wasn't even driving it. But whoever those men were, they'd cloned my plate. The footage that surfaced later showed the same number on a black SUV. Same model as mine."
He clenched his jaw. "You see how perfectly it was planned, Ritvika? Someone wanted me destroyed."
Ritvika blinked rapidly, the truth and lies tangled in her mind. "Then... Siya really thought it was you?"
Vidyut closed his eyes for a moment, his voice quieter now.
"She was in shock. She wasn't lying—she was just terrified.
She remembered a name. Maybe one of them said my name to scare her, maybe she overheard it—I don't know.
But in her condition, everything blurred together.
And the people around her... they wanted someone to blame. "
He looked at her again, his eyes glistening. "So they picked me."
A tear slipped down Ritvika's cheek. "Vidyut..."
He exhaled shakily, his shoulders falling. "I was interrogated, dragged through courtrooms, shamed in public. You have no idea what it's like, Ritvika, to be looked at like that—like filth. Like you're the monster everyone should fear."
He swallowed hard. "But my family... they stood by me. My father fought every headline, every slanderous word. My mother faced reporters with her head high. They never once doubted me. They knew the kind of man I was."
Ritvika's tears blurred her vision. "Then how did it end? How did you prove—"
He interrupted softly, almost in disbelief.
"Medical reports. DNA results. They finally came back weeks later.
Not a single trace matched me. Every test proved I had nothing to do with it.
"
He let out a breath that sounded more like a sob.
"The truth finally surfaced—but it came too late.
By then, people had already moved on. The headlines changed, the noise faded, but the stain remained. "
Ritvika pressed her hand to her mouth, tears spilling. "You were innocent all along..."
He nodded slowly. "But innocence doesn't erase the scars. The world loves a villain more than a cleared man. Even when the real culprits were caught later, even when Siya's second statement confirmed she never saw my face clearly, the damage had been done."
His tone softened—tired, broken. "I kept waiting. Waiting for peace, for the noise to stop. But before I could even try to rebuild properly... Siya was shifted again. This time, to a private mental health facility."
Ritvika's head snapped up. "What?"
"Yes," he said quietly. "They said she'd stopped responding to therapy, that she had severe PTSD and panic disorder. Her mother admitted her to another hospital. After that, she vanished from public view entirely."
He rubbed his temples, voice trembling. "And I was left behind—with a cleared record but a ruined name."
Ritvika's breath hitched painfully. "You could've rebuilt everything—you had your father's company—"
He shook his head. "I didn't want to hide behind his empire. I wanted to stand on my own, rebuild what I lost by myself. And I did, eventually. But not before I lost faith in almost everything."
He looked away, eyes glassy. "For months, I didn't sleep. Every night, I heard her voice—'Don't let them find me again.' I didn't even know what she meant then. Now I think... maybe she meant those men, or maybe she meant everyone who destroyed her after that."
He turned his gaze back to Ritvika—a storm of pain and pleading.
"Please trust me," he whispered. "I didn't do it. I never touched her. I didn't even know her beyond those two encounters. I just tried to help. But somehow, helping her became my biggest sin."
Ritvika pressed her palm to her chest, trying to steady her breathing. She could see it—the sincerity in his eyes, the raw hurt. It wasn't the kind of story someone could fabricate.
Vidyut leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his head hanging low. His voice dropped to a whisper.
"I thought that chapter of my life was over. But then..."
He lifted his gaze, meeting hers—and in that look was something darker, deeper, unfinished.
"...then Divya entered my life."
Ritvika blinked, her breath catching again. Vidyut's lips curved in a faint, tired smile—one that didn't reach his eyes.
"And that's where you'll understand how everything connects. How Siya's past didn't just end—it came back wearing a different face."
He exhaled, voice trembling. "But before that, I just need you to believe me, Ritvika. Please... I didn't hurt her. I didn't hurt anyone. I swear on everything I've ever loved—I'm not that man they said I was."
Ritvika didn't speak for a long moment. Her breath trembled in her chest, her fingers cold against her lap. Everything Vidyut had told her so far had already shaken the ground under her feet.
But the way his eyes suddenly changed—darkened, tightened—made her chest squeeze painfully.
He inhaled slowly.
"There's... more," he whispered.
"More?" Ritvika's voice was barely audible.
He nodded. "The part you need to know. The part I've never said aloud to anyone."
Ritvika blinked rapidly, her heart thudding. She felt like every muscle in her body was pulled tight.
Vidyut leaned back slightly, not relaxed—just exhausted. "You asked who Siya is. You asked how Divya is involved."
He paused, looking at her with a heaviness that made her throat close.
"They're connected, Ritvika. More than you think."
Her eyebrows knitted. "Connected how?"
Vidyut swallowed. His jaw clenched once. Then he said the words that split the air like lightning—
Ritvika's mouth fell open.
Her body went completely still.
"What...?" she whispered, voice cracking.
"No..."
Her hand flew to her mouth. "No—no, Vidyut... what are you saying?"
He sighed deeply. "Exactly what I said. Divya is Siya's elder sister. Same parents. Same home. Same blood."
Ritvika felt the world shifting violently. She felt dizzy, lightheaded, her pulse rushing in her ears.
"She... she's her sister?" she repeated, choking on the word like it was too heavy.
"Yes."
"AND SHE—she's getting married into your family?" Ritvika's voice rose in disbelief and horror. "She is STILL in your house—near you—while thinking you ruined her sister's life?!"
Vidyut winced at her tone, but he nodded. "Yes."
Ritvika shook her head again and again. "This—this doesn't make sense, Vidyut. Why would she—why would she come CLOSE to your family if she hates you? Why would she act normal? Why would she pretend?"
His voice dropped to a dark whisper. "Because revenge works best when you're close."
Ritvika felt her breath leave her body.
Vidyut looked away for a second, his eyes burning with a mix of guilt and helplessness. "My innocence was legally proven, Ritvika. The medical reports, DNA, police investigations—everything cleared me."
She nodded shakily. "Then why..."
"Because some wounds don't care about facts." His voice cracked. "Siya's mother... and Divya... they lost a part of that girl that night. And even if I wasn't the reason, they needed someone to blame. Someone to hate."
Ritvika felt tears swell in her eyes again. "But if the proof—"
"No proof matters," Vidyut cut in softly, painfully. "Not to a grieving mother. Not to a sister whose whole world collapsed."
He took a deep breath, eyes glistening.
"But back then... they didn't say anything directly to us. They didn't show their anger. They didn't cause any scene. The case ended. The culprits were punished. Siya was treated."
He shook his head slowly.
"And then... silence.
Two years of silence.
No complaints.
No confrontation.
Nothing."
Ritvika frowned through her tears. "Then...?"
"Then she came," he whispered. "Divya."
Ritvika stiffened.
"She entered our lives two years later... not with anger... not with accusations... but with a smile. A sweet, innocent, polite smile."
His voice trembled. "My family had no idea who she was. My father kept everything quiet back then so the media wouldn't swarm our home."
Ritvika swallowed hard. "So... they had no idea Divya was related to her."
"None," Vidyut confirmed.
Her breathing grew uneven.
"She came into our lives as a business intern initially. Hardworking, charming, polite. Everyone loved her. She blended into the house as though she belonged."
A dark laugh escaped him. "She knew exactly how to do that."
Ritvika said nothing—she couldn't.
"And then... slowly... she got close to Hridhaan."
Ritvika flinched. "So... she didn't love him?"
"Love?" Vidyut scoffed softly, sadness twisting the sound. "No. She chose him. Carefully. Intentionally. Because he is the simplest, softest, kindest heart in our house."
He looked up at Ritvika with devastated honesty.
"She wanted to hurt me. And for that... she needed to break someone I loved."
Ritvika pressed her fingers tighter against her knees, chest aching.
"My family still thinks her love story with Hridhaan is sweet... normal... godsent."
His voice thickened with bitterness. "Why would they ever imagine something so cruel? Why would they think a girl like Divya... who acts so perfect... would be planning something like this?"
Ritvika felt goosebumps all over her skin. "Then... how did YOU find out?"
He looked at her, eyes cold, haunted.
"A year ago."
Ritvika froze.
"I saw her meeting someone... secretly. Someone she shouldn't have met. And that conversation—those words—made everything click."
His hands curled into fists.
"I confronted her, Ritvika."
His jaw clenched hard.
"I confronted her, and she didn't deny it. Not even for a second."
Ritvika's breath hitched violently.
"She told me she would destroy me. That she doesn't care if the world thinks I'm innocent. In her eyes, I will always be the reason her sister isn't normal anymore. She said she will break everything I ever touch. And she chose Hridhaan because she knew... if she hurts him... she hurts me."
A tear slipped down Ritvika's cheek. "Vidyut..."
"My family still has no idea," he whispered.
"No one knows what she really is."
"No one knows she hates me."
"No one knows she's Siya's sister."
"No one knows the engagement is built on revenge."
Ritvika covered her mouth, horrified. "This is—this is insane..."
"Yes," Vidyut said quietly. "It is."
She shook her head slowly, tears falling helplessly.
"And you've been carrying all of this alone?"
He didn't answer. His silence was enough.
Ritvika's nails dug into her palms.
Then, in a breathless whisper full of disbelief and anger and heartbreak, she finally asked—
And the moment that question left her lips, Vidyut's breath stopped.
The question hit him like a blade.
Vidyut didn't look up at first. His chest rose and fell in one long, shaky breath, his fingers curling against his knees.
When he finally lifted his eyes to hers.
.. there was something raw inside them. Something that wasn't anger.
.. wasn't fear... but a kind of burden that had been crushing him for too long.
"Ritvika..."
He paused, voice strained.
"It's not that I want Hridhaan to marry her."
She frowned through her tears. "Then why?"
His jaw tightened. "Because stopping this marriage... would destroy someone I can't afford to hurt."
Ritvika blinked, confused.
"Who?"
He inhaled deeply... painfully.
"My father."
Ritvika's eyes widened.
Vidyut leaned forward, elbows on his knees, voice low and exhausted.
"My father is the reason I'm standing today. The reason the world didn't swallow me when the case happened. The reason reporters didn't camp at our gates, the reason the media didn't drag our family's name into hell."
His eyes softened, full of gratitude and ache.
"He fought for me when even the law was confused. He used every connection, every ounce of influence, every thread of respect he had built in his whole life... to protect me."
He swallowed hard.
"He nearly ruined his career defending me, Ritvika. He took the blow of the world so I wouldn't."
A tremor ran through his voice.
"And when the truth finally came out... he broke down. I had never seen my father cry. But that day... he did. He said he couldn't bear to lose me."
Ritvika felt her heart squeeze painfully.
"So when Divya entered our life two years later... smiling, behaving normal... acting like she didn't even remember the past..."
Vidyut's voice weakened.
"My father was relieved. He thought life was finally giving us peace again. He thought maybe God was letting our family move forward."
He closed his eyes.
"The day Hridhaan told him he wanted to marry her... my father was the happiest. He said our house needed a girl like her. Kind, disciplined, sincere."
Ritvika watched a tear slip from the corner of his eye — the silent kind that hurts more than loud sobs.
"If I tell him the truth now — that the girl he accepted so wholeheartedly is the same girl whose family once wanted me jailed... the same girl who still hates me... the same girl planning revenge—"
He exhaled sharply.
"It will break him."
Ritvika covered her mouth, trembling.
"He has health issues, Ritvika," Vidyut whispered. "He hides it from everyone, but I know. Stress isn't allowed for him. And this... this is not stress. This is destruction."
Vidyut's voice cracked, the sound barely holding together.
"If he finds out that the girl he blessed... the girl whose wedding he is planning... wants to destroy his son..."
His breathing staggered.
"It will kill him."
Ritvika stared at him with wide, shattered eyes.
"I can't let that happen," he said, voice barely audible. "I won't let anyone touch my father's health... not even the truth."
He wiped a hand across his face, his pain finally spilling over.
"So yes... I'm letting this marriage happen."
His tone deepened with a quiet, tortured strength.
"Not because I'm weak. Not because I'm afraid."
"But what about Hridhaan bhaiya?" Ritvika asked
"I had planned something already"
He looked straight into her soul.
"protecting my family is more important than protecting myself."
Ritvika felt something inside her collapse entirely — not from fear, but from the weight of what he had been carrying.
"Vidyut..." she whispered, voice breaking. "Why didn't you tell anyone? Why didn't you ask for help?"
He gave a small, defeated smile.
"Who should I tell? Hridhaan? Who's in love with her? My mother? Who already fears losing Dad? My father? Who trusts her more than anyone?"
He shook his head.
"This burden was mine... so I kept it."
Silence wrapped around them — heavy, suffocating, heartbreaking.
Ritvika stared at him, her chest tight, vision blurry.
The man she thought was cruel... complicated... angry...
Was actually bleeding for his family in a way no one ever saw.
A tear slipped from her chin.