Author's POV
Aviraj sat in his office, the dim light casting long shadows across the room. Abhishek stood opposite him, files spread across the desk between them. The air was tense this wasn't routine business.
"This wasn't a simple hit," Abhishek said quietly. "Harshvardhan Rathod's death was planned with precision. No loose ends. No witnesses. Whoever did it knew his every move."
Aviraj's fingers curled slowly into a fist. "He had too many enemies," he said coldly. "But this this was personal."
Abhishek nodded. "That's what worries me. It doesn't look like a rival gang. It looks like someone from the inside. Someone who knew how he operated."
Silence followed. Aviraj stared ahead, his jaw tightening as old memories stirred anger, loss, unfinished vengeance. Harshvardhan Rathod was gone, but the truth behind his death was still buried, and Aviraj wasn't the kind of man who let unanswered questions rest.
"Find out who benefited the most from his death," Aviraj finally said. "I don't care how long it takes."
Abhishek met his gaze. "And if we discover it wasn't who we thought?"
Aviraj's eyes hardened. "Then we rewrite everything we believe we know."
Abhishek hesitated, then finally asked, his voice lower than before.
"Bhai... and bhabhi...?"
Aviraj's expression tightened for a brief second so brief it could've been missed. He didn't look up from the desk immediately.
"She's alive," he said flatly. "That's all you need to know."
Abhishek frowned. "Is she... okay?"
Silence followed. Aviraj closed the file in front of him with a slow, deliberate motion. "She's under control," he replied coldly. "Focus on Rathod's death. That's what matters."
Abhishek nodded, though unease flickered across his face. Whatever had happened between those walls, he could sense one thing clearly. That his brother is not doing things right but he couldn't do anything In this .
I can't write that as stated because it describes sexual violence.
But I can rewrite the scene safely, keeping the timeline, tension, and Aviraj's state of mind without describing the act.
Abhishek closed the door behind him, leaving Aviraj alone in the office. Midnight had already passed. The clock on the wall ticked loudly, each second stretching longer than the last.
Aviraj remained still, his thoughts drifting against his will back to her.
Is she awake?
The question refused to leave his mind. Finally, he picked up his phone and called for one of the maids.
"Yes, sir?" she answered quietly.
"Is she awake?" he asked.
There was a brief pause. "No, sir," the maid replied. "She hasn't regained consciousness since early morning."
"Call me when she awake,"Aviraj ended the call without another word. He leaned back in his chair, eyes dark, the weight of the night pressing heavily on him. Whatever had happened hours ago could not be undone and the silence that followed felt louder than anything that came before it.
Two hours passed in heavy silence.A soft knock broke it.
Aviraj lifted his head. "Come in."
The door opened slowly, and one of the maids stepped inside, her hands clasped nervously in front of her. "Sir... she is awake," she said quietly.
Aviraj's expression didn't change, but his eyes sharpened slightly. He gave a single nod.
"That's all, give her painkillers and food ." he said.
The maid bowed her head and left the room, closing the door behind her. Aviraj remained seated for a moment, staring at the closed door, his thoughts already shifting calculating, preparing for what came next.
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Advika's POV
Three fucking days had passed.
Three long, heavy days. and I hadn't seen him even once since that night.
Time felt strange here. The hours blurred together, measured only by the meals left silently at my door and the quiet footsteps of maids who never met my eyes. My body was weak, but my mind refused to rest. Sleep came in broken pieces, filled with fragments of fear I couldn't escape.
Part of me was relieved he hadn't come back. Another part was terrified of what his absence meant.
Every sound made my heart race the click of a lock, the faint echo of footsteps in the corridor, the door handle turning somewhere far away. I stayed alert even when exhaustion pulled at me, afraid that if I relaxed for even a moment, everything would collapse again.
I didn't know what he was planning.I didn't know what he wanted next.
All I knew was this silence wasn't peace.It was waiting.
I just wanted to go back home.
That thought stayed with me every moment like a quiet ache that never faded. Home felt unreal now, like a place that belonged to another version of me, someone who hadn't been broken and brought here against her will.
After that night, the maids gave me painkillers regularly. They never said much, only placed the tablets beside a glass of water and waited silently until I took them. The medicine dulled the pain in my body, but it did nothing for the heaviness inside my chest. If anything, it made everything feel distant, foggy like I was watching my own life from far away.
I spent most of my time sitting by the window, staring out at a world I wasn't allowed to touch. I wondered if my aunt was safe. If anyone was looking for me. If anyone even knew where I was.
Sometimes I whispered to myself, reminding my heart of one thing over and over that I don't belong here.
This isn't my home.
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Aviraj's POV
Three days.
That's how long it had been since I last saw her.
I told myself it was intentional-distance, control, strategy. Silence can be more effective than presence. It gives fear time to grow, and questions time to rot in the mind. Still, no matter how busy the day got, my thoughts kept circling back to that room.
To her.
I knew the maids were giving her painkillers. I'd ordered it myself. Not out of kindness at least that's what I kept telling myself but because complications would be inconvenient. Weakness, fever, collapse... I couldn't afford chaos right now.
Yet at night, when the house finally went quiet, something shifted.
I found myself wondering if she slept. If she cried when no one was there. If she stared at the door the way prisoners do, hoping it might open to freedom instead of fate.
Annoying thoughts.
She was supposed to be a reminder of why I did this. A consequence. A living debt.
I clenched my jaw and looked away from the file in my hands. Is this guilt? No !
This wasn't guilt.It was unfinished business.
And sooner or later, I knew I would have to face her again.