“How the hell did he find out about our contract marriage?!” Lavanya shouted, her voice trembling as she paced the length of Ayansh’s opulent office, her fingers buried in her thick, black hair. Her usually composed demeanor had shattered into panic, and she looked like a storm ready to break.

Ayansh sat silently behind his massive mahogany desk, the golden crest of the Rajvansh family gleaming behind him on the wall. He looked down, guilt flickering across his face. His voice was barely a whisper. “I don’t know… but Shivam uncle knows. He knows everything.”