The moment Ishan left Naina at her home, he knew his next move. The very next day, he boarded a private jet to Cremia. He had waited long enough, and now was the perfect time to remind Nikolai Volkov of his true place. Staying away from Naina was the only way he could execute his plan without distractions.

Meanwhile, back at home, a full day had passed since Naina's return. She sat quietly by the window of her room, curled up with her knees drawn to her chest, arms wrapped around them, and her face resting on her folded arms. The cool evening breeze brushed against her skin, but she barely felt it. Beside her, her cat, Gem, lay peacefully, its soft fur brushing against her fingers.

Naina absentmindedly stroked Gem's head and whispered, "Did you miss me?" Her voice was low, almost hesitant, as if she feared the answer.

Gem, of course, couldn't understand her words, but emotions-those, he could feel. He purred softly, pressing his small body closer to her. He was just a tiny creature, incapable of changing her world, but he could stay beside her, offering silent comfort.

Naina sighed, her fingers running through his fur. "I'm sorry... I should have taken you with me." Her voice trembled, regret lacing every word.

Just then, a soft knock echoed through the room. Naina turned her head toward the door, her eyes wary. Standing there, in the dim light of the hallway, was Shalini. She didn't say a word, just watched Naina with quiet concern.

Naina straightened her back and forced a small smile. Shalini walked in slowly and sat beside her on the bed. Without speaking, she reached out and gently ran her fingers through Naina's hair-a motherly gesture, warm and soothing.

Naina said nothing. She only held on to that empty, faint smile.

Shalini's voice broke the silence, low and filled with unspoken sorrow. "My child has suffered so much..."

Naina lowered her gaze, resting her cheek back on her arm, watching Shalini with tired, unreadable eyes.

Shalini kept stroking her hair, as if trying to erase the pain woven into every strand. "There is no one like you, Naina. You are so brave."

Naina looked at her, and for the first time, she noticed the unshed tears in Shalini's eyes, hanging by a thread, waiting to fall.

Shalini reached for Naina's hands, prying them from her knees and enclosing them in her own, holding them protectively in her lap. Her voice, filled with quiet determination, broke the heaviness in the room.

"Enough now, Naina. No more suffering."

Naina stared at her, her throat tightening, a lump forming that she couldn't swallow. A tear slipped down her cheek, but her voice remained eerily calm, almost detached. "Maybe this is what was written for me... Maybe I was meant to suffer. Until I completely break."

Each word she spoke felt like a blade, piercing deeper, not just in her own heart but in Shalini's as well.

Tears finally escaped Shalini's eyes, rolling down her cheeks. She reached forward and cupped Naina's face, forcing her to look at her. "Naina... you are special. So, so special."

Naina let out a bitter, painful smile. "I wish I wasn't. I wish..."

She didn't finish her sentence.

Without another word, Shalini pulled her into a tight embrace, wrapping her arms fully around Naina's waist, holding her as if she could shield her from everything.

And then, after a long pause, she whispered the words that would change everything.

"Karan and I have made a decision..."

Naina's body stiffened. She pulled back slightly, looking at Shalini with cautious, questioning eyes.

Shalini took a deep breath and finally said it.

"We will file for your divorce. We will free you from his cage."

A Decision That Cannot Be Undone

Naina's voice was barely above a whisper as she rested her forehead against Shalini's shoulder, her words trembling with exhaustion.

"He is mad, Maa..."

Shalini felt her daughter's pain, felt the weight of the words pressing against her. She knew exactly what Naina meant. Ishan's obsession had trapped her, bound her so tightly that even the thought of escaping felt impossible. But Shalini wasn't going to step back-not now.

She gently pulled Naina away, holding her by the shoulders, her grip firm yet comforting.

"Naina, his madness cannot imprison you forever. This is wrong. He has controlled you enough-too much. But no more."

Naina stared at her, silent. There was something in her eyes-something that told Shalini she wasn't convinced, that she didn't believe in this fight.

Because she had seen Ishan up close.

She had seen the fire in his eyes, the way his obsession consumed him. She knew exactly how far he could go-how far he already had gone.

And then, the memory hit her. That night. The night he had touched her. A cold shiver ran down her spine, her breath hitching for just a second. She had let him cross a line-a line that should never have been crossed. And now, there was no turning back.

Because Ishan was no longer just obsessed. He was completely, irreversibly consumed. And running away from him? That was nearly impossible. But when Naina looked up, Shalini's eyes held something else entirely.

Not fear. Not hesitation. Only determination. And a single word-divorce.

A Silent Promise, Naina gently ran her fingers over Shalini's hand, her touch light yet filled with meaning. There was no hesitation in her voice, only quiet acceptance as she whispered, "Whatever you say will happen, Maa..."

A soft smile graced Shalini's lips-one of relief, of hope. Without a second thought, she pulled Naina into another embrace, holding her tightly, as if shielding her from all the pain she had endured. This time, she would not let her suffer alone.

🥀

Meanwhile, in Cremia, Ishan arrived at the Volkov Art Museum-an establishment that, at first glance, seemed nothing more than a lavish collection of historical artifacts. But those who knew better understood that behind the grand exhibitions and delicate sculptures, this was neutral ground for the most dangerous figures in the underworld.

Tonight, he wasn't here for art.

One of his agent working in Cremia had called for a discussion-a rare occurrence, considering the Russian mafia boss preferred to keep his hands clean. Ishan's arrival was calculated, his steps slow and deliberate as he entered the museum's grand hall. His black coat swayed slightly with each step, and his bodyguards followed closely behind, their hands resting near their weapons. The chandeliers above cast a golden glow over the marbled floors, but the atmosphere was anything but warm.

At the far end of the hall, Senior chief of agents stood waiting, His icy eyes met Ishan's with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. "You're early Mr. Ishan Mehra ," he say , his Russian accent thick but refined.

Ishan smirked. "I like to pick my seat before the show starts."

Before that Senior chief could respond, the room went eerily silent. And then-

BANG!

The first shot shattered the glass display behind them, sending fragments flying. Screams erupted as chaos took over the museum. More gunshots followed in rapid succession.

An ambush.

Ishan's instincts kicked in immediately. He ducked behind a marble column as his bodyguards drew their weapons. The air filled with the deafening sounds of bullets ricocheting off ancient sculptures.

Through the smoke and flashing gunfire, he spotted masked men flooding into the hall from all sides.

Well-played, Nikolo Volkov, Ishan thought, his smirk returning. A test or a betrayal? Let's find out.

With one swift motion, he pulled out his gun and fired, taking down the first man who aimed at him. His bodyguards engaged, covering him as they pushed forward.

Chief agent, too, had drawn his weapon, shouting orders to his men.

Ishan wasted no time. He maneuvered through the chaos, using the museum's grand pillars as cover, his shots precise, deadly. The smell of gunpowder filled the air as bodies dropped one by one.

A masked attacker lunged at him with a knife, but Ishan twisted his arm and slammed him into a glass case, shattering centuries-old artifacts in the process. No time for apologies.

Another assailant fired from above, but before the bullet could reach him, Ishan's right-hand man, Faris, took the shot first, eliminating the sniper with a single, clean headshot.

Within minutes, the room was filled with nothing but the groans of the wounded and the silence of the dead. The last masked man tried to crawl away, but Ishan stepped forward and pressed his gun to his forehead.

"Who sent you?" he asked, his voice calm, almost lazy.

The man whimpered, unable to form a coherent response before a shot rang out-this time, not from Ishan.

Senior chief had pulled the trigger.

He exhaled and placed his gun back in his holster. "I think we have a lot to discuss, my friend."

Ishan simply rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck. "We do." Ishan dusted off his coat and stepped over the bodies, his mind already calculating his next move. If they thought this night was over, they were sorely mistaken.

🥀

Three days had passed since Naina had returned home, yet there was no word from Ishan. She had no idea where he was or what he was doing, and for the first time in a long while, he hadn't tried to contact her.

That night, after taking a hot shower, she changed into her nightdress and sat on her bed, running a towel through her damp hair. Just then, her phone chimed with a notification. She hesitated for a moment before reaching for it from the bedside table. As she lit up the screen, her breath hitched-

A message from Ishan.

"Did you miss me?"

She stared at the words on her lock screen, her fingers hovering over the screen, but she didn't open the message. In fact, she didn't even want to. Swallowing hard, she placed the phone aside and let her eyes wander to the file on the table. Her fingers slowly traced its surface before she picked it up.

Divorce papers.

Karan had given them to her earlier that day, and Shalini had placed a pen inside, as if already knowing what Naina's decision should be.

She opened the file, her eyes scanning the legal jargon that outlined the end of her forced marriage. The words blurred in front of her as a flood of emotions surged through her. Should she sign them? Should she finally take this step?

She had never loved Ishan. Not once. All she had ever felt for him was fear-deep, paralyzing fear. He was a man so powerful, so relentless, that escaping him felt almost impossible. But this... this was her chance. A real chance to break free from his grip.

Her grip on the file tightened as she weighed the possibilities, lost in her thoughts, when her phone chimed again.

Another message.

"I'm thinking about you... a lot."

Her eyes flickered toward the device resting beside her on the bed. She pressed her lips together, inhaling sharply before letting out a slow breath. Looking away, she turned her gaze toward the window. The night outside was calm, but inside her, a storm raged.

Memories she had buried deep clawed their way back-losing her entire family in the blink of an eye, being taken in by strangers, and then, as if fate had not already been cruel enough, becoming the obsession of a man she barely understood.

Her body sank back into the bed, her head resting against the soft mattress as she stared at the chandelier above, the dim light refracting into tiny golden sparkles. A single tear slipped from the corner of her eye, tracing down her temple. She squeezed her eyes shut, curling into herself like a child, wrapping her arms around her knees.

And then, she wept.

It started as a quiet sob, but soon, her grief overtook her entirely. Her cries filled the empty room, raw and unfiltered, as she let out all the pain she had carried for so long. The burden, the helplessness, the suffocating weight of being trapped in a life she never chose.

~~~×~~~

Somewhere across the city, Ishan stood on the balcony of his hotel room, exhaling a long stream of smoke from his cigarette. He knew Naina hadn't replied to his messages. He also knew she had seen them.

A small smirk tugged at his lips before fading just as quickly. His jaw clenched slightly as he ran a hand through his hair, lost in thought. Just then, his phone rang. He glanced at the screen before answering.

His mother.

He lifted the phone to his ear. "Hello."

A gentle yet heavy voice spoke from the other end. "How are you?"

Ishan took another drag from his cigarette, tilting his head up to look at the night sky. "I'm good," he exhaled, but there was an emptiness in his voice.

Savitri remained silent for a moment. She knew. She had always known. The weight he carried, the choices he had made. And most of all, the reason behind them.

Finally, she spoke, her voice filled with quiet pain. "What wrong had I done, Ishan, that you had to do something so terrible to that poor girl?"

Ishan closed his eyes briefly, pressing his lips together before looking down at the city lights. "I love her, Maa," he said, his voice raw. "I love her........so much"

Savitri felt a deep ache in her chest. She understood his pain, but she also knew what he had done was beyond justification.

"You should have told me, Ishan," she whispered. "I would have spoken to Shalini myself. Why did you have to force her? Why did you have to take her like that?"

Ishan inhaled deeply, gripping the railing in front of him.

"She's my wife now, Maa," he murmured. "I wanted her... I needed her. And back then, I thought this was the only way."

There was a long pause. Then, Savitri's voice, thick with emotion, came through.

"She's innocent, Ishan... so innocent," she said. "Don't hurt her. If you truly love her, respect her."

Ishan let out a slow breath, flicking away the cigarette as he looked up at the sky again.

"Always..... Maa," he promised.

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