CHAPTER 27 #2
For the first time since his childhood had been torn apart, Karan felt close to satisfied and a dark sense of rightness settled in his chest. He could already picture it, walking back into that prison, standing in front of Dilip Goel again, reminding him of the promise he had made six months ago.
The promise to meet him again when he had ruined his children.
In the last fifteen years, every decision he had taken, every sacrifice, every ruthless choice, that had led him here, should have felt complete and victorious.
But it did not.
The memories he had forced himself to relive tonight had cracked his heart again.
His mother’s voice. His father’s presence.
The warmth of a home that had once been whole, his safe haven, untouched by betrayal and bloodshed.
The family he had lost before he had even understood its value…
these thoughts only made the ache in his chest heavier.
Karan poured himself another drink, his grip tightening around the glass as if he could crush the past out of it, and downed it again without pause.
That was when he sensed movement behind him. The front door had opened. Karan turned slightly, just enough to see Mishti step inside. She had taken a cab back. Of course, she had. He had not waited for her, not even looked back.
Karan froze mid-motion, the glass suspended in his hand as he reached for another drink, seeing Mishti standing there for a moment.
Her shoulders slumped, her face drained of colour, exhaustion and guilt were written into every line of her body.
When her eyes met his, they immediately dropped away, as if she could not bear the heaviness of what lay between them.
There were tears in her eyes, unshed but trembling, the kind that demanded forgiveness and thick with guilt. Guilt for a father she had never truly known. Guilt for a past she had never been allowed to understand. Guilt for a pain that was never hers, yet now wrapped itself around her like a curse.
His mind dragged him back to that very morning, when Mishti’s voice was bright with excitement. The way her eyes had lit up at the news of Divya’s pregnancy. How she had spoken about meeting her brother and sister-in-law, about celebrating this good news with them.
And now she stood here like this.
All that joy reduced to silence, shame, and grief in the span of a single day.
He felt a flicker of pain for her before he could stop it. But it was gone just as quickly.
Her tears cannot erase fifteen years of his loss. Her guilt could not undo the nights he had spent reliving his mother’s death. Nothing she felt, nothing she could ever do, would soften what he had lived with, what he had carried, what had shaped him into the man standing here now.
His face hardened again as he brought the glass to his lips, finished the drink in one final swallow, and set it down with force. Then, without a word, without a glance in her direction, he turned and headed for the staircase.
Mishti took a step forward, to speak. But the strength left her before the words could form. She stopped, standing there, watching him take the stairs two at a time.
Within seconds, he disappeared into his bedroom on the upper floor while she remained where she was.
Her throat burned, her chest ached, but she had no energy left to chase him, to explain, to ask for anything.
She simply stood there, absorbing his retreat, wondering how to bridge that gap between them again.
The moment Karan stepped into his bedroom, he stopped short.
His room was dark, but not empty. Soft fairy lights glowed along the walls.
Flowers were placed with quiet care here and there.
At the centre of the room stood a small table, draped neatly with candles flickering around it.
And resting there, on it was a home-baked cake.
Karan stared at it, struggling to register what his eyes were seeing.
What the hell was this?
The rage and grief he had brought into the room collided with something entirely unexpected. Slowly, he walked toward the table, the candlelight reflected faintly in his eyes as he leaned closer and read the words written on top of the cake.
I love you, Karan.
His heart slammed violently against his ribs. He knew, instantly, who had done this, and he didn’t like it. Anger flared through him, again, feeding on everything that was already broken inside him.
Without thinking, he strode back to the door, yanked it open, and stormed out.
Mishti had just climbed the stairs and was moving slowly toward her room. The moment she saw him come out, she barely had time to react.
Karan crossed the distance in seconds. His hand closed around her wrist tightly, and he dragged her with him, back toward the room. She stumbled, startled, unable to even speak before she was pulled inside.
The door shut behind them.
It was only then, standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by the fairy lights, the flowers, the candles she had asked Maria to arrange before they could arrive home tonight, that Mishti understood why he was angry again.
Fresh tears filled her eyes, blurring her vision.
How could she have forgotten this? She had planned tonight so carefully.
She had wanted to tell him how she felt.
She had wanted to confess the emotions she had tried to deny for weeks, believing, foolishly, that there might be space for them in this marriage.
Instead, he had shattered her world entirely today. Karan had torn away every illusion she had built, exposing the real reason behind their marriage, revealing a truth so bitter it had broken her heart into pieces she did not know how to gather.
Mishti stood there, unable to find her voice as Karan’s anger exploded.
“What the f*ck is this?” he barked.
Mishti tried to speak, but nothing came out. Her silence only fed his fury.
He grabbed her arms and pulled her toward him. His eyes blazed as they searched her face.
“Are you out of your mind, Mishti?” he demanded. “What the hell is this supposed to mean?”
Mishti’s tear-filled eyes lifted to his, meeting the blaze of fury burning there. She had no courage left inside her to speak. Not a single word rose to defend her heart. She knew, with a painful clarity, that everything she had felt was wrong.
Wrong to want him. Wrong to hope. Wrong to believe that love could ever grow between them.
Her father had killed his mother. That truth alone was enough to crush every emotion before it was even born. Any man standing where Karan stood would never offer mercy, never offer tenderness, to the daughter of the man who had destroyed his family.
If only she had known this before.
If only she had known who her father really was, what he had done, she would never have dared to hope that their marriage could become something real. Never have trusted that it was anything more than his way of completing a revenge that had begun long before she entered his life.
But now it was too late.
She did not need to confess anything. Karan could see it all. In her face, in the trembling of her lips, in the way she looked at him. He read the truth in her tears, and it only pushed his rage higher.
He shook her hard.
“How dare you think I would fall for this?” he shouted. “That I would fall for you, Mishti?”
Mishti swallowed. He was right. He would never fall for her.
“Iss janam toh kya,” he went on, “agle saat janam mein bhi main tumse pyar nahi kar sakta. Because every time I look at you, I remember what your father did.”
He shoved her away roughly. Mishti stumbled back a step, barely managing to keep herself upright.
There was no strength left in her body to respond, no fight left to offer.
She only stood there, tears slipping down her face, staring at him in stunned silence.
Everything inside her felt hollow. There was no anger left, no defence, only pain.
Karan turned away from her, pacing the room like a caged animal, his hands pressing into his temples as if trying to restrain the storm inside his head. He stopped abruptly and faced her again.
“You didn’t know it before,” he said harshly. “But now you do. This marriage started as revenge, and it will end with it. There cannot be anything more between us.”
He looked at her as though forcing the words into her very bones.
“I might have shown concern at times. We might have been pulled toward each other a few times. But that’s all it was. That’s all it will ever be. I will never let it become anything more, Mishti. Get that into your head.”
He stepped closer, his gaze locked onto hers again as he delivered the final blow.
“Karan Wadhwa nafrat karta hai tumhare baap se. Tumhare naam se. Tumse. Aur yeh nafrat main kabhi kam hone nahi dunga. Chahe tum kitni bhi koshish kar lo.” (Karan Wadhwa hates your father. His name. His children. You. And I’ll never let this hatred go away, no matter how much you try.)
His words echoed in the room, leaving her breathless and shattered. Suddenly, her eyes fluttered shut.
It happened so suddenly that even she did not understand what was happening to her body. The room seemed to tilt, the floor slipping away beneath her feet, and before she could steady herself, her strength gave up entirely. She swayed once and began to collapse.
Karan noticed it in that very heartbeat and moved instinctively, catching her before she could hit the floor.
Her body fell into his arms, weightless and limp, her head resting against his chest, her limbs slack as if all life had drained out of her in a single breath.
He tightened his hold around her, locking her against him, feeling how frighteningly still she was.
She had fainted.
Everything that had happened that day, the confrontation, the truths laid bare, the venom he had poured out on her, it had all finally broken her.
For a long moment, he only stood there, holding her, staring down at her face as if trying to understand how they had reached this point.
How had things gone so wrong, so fast? How had she ever believed she could feel something for him, or worse, that she could confess it to him this way?
How had he allowed the situation to reach a place where her heart had dared to hope?
His heart ached now as he looked at her, so fragile, so defenceless in his arms.
Maybe she did not deserve this. Yes, she truly had not known any of it. Yes, she had walked into this marriage blind, carrying her own innocence and ignorance like a curse.
But none of that changed what she was in his eyes.
She was Dilip Goel’s daughter.
And that was reason enough.
He hardened his resolve again, even as he held her close. She could remain his wife. She could live under his roof. But his heart would remain locked away from her forever. He would never allow it to soften, never allow it to reach for her. Never.
With careful steps, Karan lifted her properly into his arms and carried her to his bed. He lay her down gently, adjusting her position, making sure she was comfortable. For a second longer than necessary, his gaze lingered on her face, then he straightened and turned away.
As he stepped out of the room, Maria was already near the staircase, worrying. She had clearly heard enough to know something was wrong. She rushed toward him, questions trembling on her lips.
“Stay with her.” That’s all Karan said flatly without slowing down and walked out of the house. He could not stay there tonight. Not in that house. Not near her. Not with the past clawing at his mind and her silent confession echoing in his chest.
He needed distance from the memories, rage and from the woman who had fallen in love with him without ever saying the words. Staying away was the only way he knew to survive this night.
He stepped into his car, slammed the door shut, and drove away, leaving the Wadhwa mansion behind him, carrying his anger, his grief, and steeling his heart once again.