The mansion didn't explode the way I expected it to.
There were no screaming matches.
No dramatic exits.
No shattered glass.
Instead… there was silence.
A heavy, watchful silence that settled over the Malhotra house like a held breath.
Riyan walked me back to our floor himself.
Two guards stood at the corridor now—his order, carried out without question. Servants bowed lower than usual. No one met my eyes.
Fear had changed the air.
When we reached my door, Riyan stopped.
"You lock this," he said quietly. "And you don't open it for anyone except me."
"I know," I replied.
He hesitated, then added, "If anything feels even slightly wrong… call me. Immediately."
I nodded.
He turned to leave, then paused.
"Aarvi."
I looked up.
"This won't end quietly," he said. "My mother doesn't lose. She retreats."
A chill slid down my spine.
"I'm ready," I said, even though my hands trembled.
He studied my face for a long second, then nodded once and walked away.
---
Elsewhere in the mansion…
Riyan's mother sat alone in her private sitting room.
The lights were low.
The doors locked.
Her face was calm again.
Too calm.
She poured herself a cup of tea with steady hands, as if nothing humiliating had happened in front of the family just an hour earlier.
"Ungrateful," she murmured softly.
"Both of them."
She lifted her phone and dialed a number saved without a name.
It rang once.
Twice.
Then—
"Yes," a man's voice answered.
Her lips curved faintly.
"He's turned against us," she said. "Faster than I expected."
A pause.
"No," she continued, eyes darkening, "not because of the file. Because of the girl."
She listened for a moment, then smiled.
"Yes. Aarvi."
Her fingers tightened around the phone.
"She's the weakness," she said calmly. "And weaknesses are removable."
Another pause.
Her smile vanished.
"No," she said sharply. "Not permanent. Not yet. I don't want blood."
She leaned back, eyes cold.
"I want doubt."
Silence.
Then—
"Yes," she continued, voice smooth as poison. "Make it look accidental. Make Riyan question her. Make her question herself."
She ended the call.
The tea sat untouched.
Because revenge required a clear head.
---
Back in my room…
I was brushing my hair when the lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then stabilized.
My heart skipped.
The phone on my bedside table buzzed.
Unknown number.
My breath caught.
I stared at it for several seconds before answering.
"Hello?"
Static crackled.
Then—
A woman's voice.
Soft.
Shaky.
Barely holding together.
"Aarvi?" she whispered. "Please… don't hang up."
"Who is this?" I asked, dread creeping up my spine.
"I—I worked at the hospital," she said. "The night Arjun Malhotra was declared dead."
My knees went weak.
"I can't talk long," she rushed. "They're watching. They always watch."
My heart pounded violently.
"What do you know?" I whispered.
Her breath trembled.
"I saw the transfer papers," she said. "I saw who signed the order."
"Who?" I demanded.
She hesitated.
Then whispered a name that made my blood run cold.
"Riyan Malhotra."
The world shattered.
"That's impossible," I breathed. "He would never—"
"I know," she sobbed softly. "That's why they chose it. They needed his signature. They needed his authority."
My chest burned.
"How?" I whispered.
"They drugged him," she said. "Sedated. He signed without knowing. They used his own hand against him."
Tears spilled down my face.
"They planned it perfectly," she whispered. "So if the truth ever came out… he would blame himself."
The line crackled violently.
"I shouldn't have called," she panicked. "They'll trace—"
"Wait!" I cried. "Please—"
The call cut off.
I stood frozen, phone slipping from my fingers.
Riyan's name echoed in my head.
His signature.
His hand.
His guilt.
This wasn't just a crime.
It was psychological murder.
And his mother had designed it so her son would be destroyed no matter what.
A soft knock sounded at my door.
My heart jumped into my throat.
"Aarvi," Riyan's voice called gently. "It's me."
I rushed to the door and opened it.
He looked tired. Angry. Protective.
"What's wrong?" he asked instantly. "Your face—"
I stared at him, tears streaming freely now.
I had a choice.
Protect him…
or tell him the truth that could shatter him forever.
Because now I knew:
The final blow wasn't just meant to kill Arjun.
It was meant to destroy Riyan.