I stilled, trying to recognise the voice.
“She said he forced himself on her when she refused to sleep with him. That’s why this marriage happened. But I knew who forced who…”
My spine locked, every muscle going rigid like I’d been hit with cold water and then another amusing voice replied, “Money and power can make people do anything, Pa. It was her perfect idea.She always dreamed of a big house, luxury, everything Saurav Chauhan can give her. That’s why she falsely accused him.”
His brother. My jaw clenched so tight pain shot up into my temples. It was the accusation I had fought, denied, drowned in evidence and still never fully escaped. It crawled back under my skin now like poison.
I should have walked away. I knew I should have. But my feet moved on their own, silent on the carpet as I edged closer to the partially closed lounge door ahead. The light inside spilled into the hallway in a thin golden line, like a warning I ignored.
Inside, I heard Kavya’s father.
“We did well,” the older man said, his voice low and satisfied. “Marrying her to him secured everything. Chauhan money doesn’t end in one generation. She just has to play smart. She has always been a sin to our family, but this time she proved she was our greatest blessing”
Her brother gave a soft chuckle. “Kav always said rich men are easiest to trap if you attack their reputation. One accusation and they panic. This one was perfect as he has a uniform job, public image, and family name. He would never risk scandal, would he?”
Then her father spoke again, colder this time. “And now? She’ll slowly get access to his property, accounts, and influence. The more time passes, the harder it will be for him to cut her off.”
My hands curled into fists as my vision blurred at the edges, red bleeding into everything.
“She planned this from the beginning,” her brother said. “Targeted him, trapped him and then flipped the story. That’s a classic.”
Classic? Like my life was some case study or some business strategy.
“Just make sure she remembers,” her father said, voice turning ice-cold, “we didn’t raise her to think small.”
And there was something inside me snapped. It was not loud, just a quiet, final break. I stepped back silently, chest heaving, air burning in my lungs like I’d run for miles. My heart wasn’t racing anymore. It was heavily pounding.
A dark, furious weight settled deep in my bones. It was cold, controlled, and lethal. Not the wild rage of a wounded man. The calm fury of someone who had just learned the truth he was never meant to hear.
I turned, walking away from the door, each step measured, deliberate. This luxury hotel felt different. It felt smaller and suffocating. Like every wall was watching me.
I didn’t see the way the lounge door shifted slightly behind me and didn’t see the thin shadow that slipped into the corridor a second later. And I didn’t hear the soft whisper that followed me down the hallway.
“He knows.”
_________
It was one in the morning, and I was still pacing back and forth along the hotel corridor. I was too angry to walk into that room. Too angry to look at her and to tell her what a vile woman she was.
She had staged all that drama just to get access to my money. The thought tasted bitter. How disgusting. How could I even look at her without feeling hatred crawl under my skin, knowing what I knew? Knowing the “truth” everyone else believed so easily?
“Dammit!”
My fist slammed into the wall beside me as pain shot up my knuckles, but it barely registered. I gritted my teeth, breath coming out in harsh bursts.
“It was all my fault,” I muttered hoarsely. “I was the idiot who invited her into my house. I was the stupid one who trusted her. How could I be this blind?”
The corridor was empty, but the whispers from earlier still rang in my ears.
I glanced toward the door of my suite, the door behind which she had been waiting for me. My wife. Did she really win? The word wife felt foreign.
I ran a trembling hand through my hair. I wasn’t just angry. I was furious in a way I had never been before. It wasn’t loud rage, but it was darker. It sat in my chest like something poisonous. The kind of fury that made a man capable of things he never imagined.
“Are you not going inside?” I stiffened at the sound of my father’s voice. His footsteps approached. Why did he always have to interfere? “It’s your first wedding night,” he added calmly like it was some sort of business deal.
“Can you please stop talking about this?” I spat, turning to glare at him.
He stopped a few feet away from me. Under the dim corridor lights, I noticed something I rarely saw on his face had a small, almost satisfied smile.