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Sonia turned to leave. Ravindra stood frozen, unable to move, unable to comprehend how the life he had built so carefully had collapsed in an instant. From his hiding spot, Vikrant had beenwatching everything. He couldn’t hold back any longer. As soon as he saw his mother walking away, he ran toward her and clung to her waist, crying desperately.

“Mumma, where are you going? Don’t leave me…”

“Just let go of me, Vikrant.”

“No, Mumma, please… Mumma…”

But nothing could stop Sonia that day. With a painful grip, she grabbed Vikrant’s hands from her waist, yanked them off, and pushed him aside.

He jolted back into the present as he opened his eyes. His chest heaved as he gasped for breath, feeling as though his mother had just pushed him away again. He turned off the shower, wrapped a towel around his torso, and stood before the mirror. The steam had blurred the glass. He wiped it with his hand and stared at his reflection.

In the foggy mirror, he didn’t see a grown man. He saw that ten-year-old boy again pleading, broken, desperate for his mother’s love. But he wanted to bury that version of himself, to hide him forever. The world didn’t need to see that, Vikrant. The world needed to see the version of Vikrant that was dangerous, cold, calculating, and untouchable.

The day his mother eloped with another man, she died in a car crash alongside him. But for Vikrant, she had already died the moment she chose to walk away. From that day forward, a deep, indelible hatred for women had taken root in him. A hatred so profound it defied explanation. To the world, Vikrant was a terrifying force. But to deceitful women, he was nothing less than a beast. He closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them again, as if to erase any trace of the boy he had just seen in the mirror.

“Good…”

He muttered under his breath. When he emerged from his closet, now fully dressed, Sharda, his lifelong caregiver, was waiting for him in the room.

Sharda had been with the family since the day he was born. After losing her entire family in a tragic accident, Sharda, his grandmother's best friend, accepted a job offer from Vikrant's grandmother to care for him. Since then, she had been his nanny, his guide. She was the only woman he truly respected. The only person he truly trusted. To the world, Vikrant was terrifying. But to Sharda, whom he called Maa, he was just a boy who still needed love.

“Hey Maa, good morning,” he greeted her, his tone softening.

“Good morning, sweetheart.”

“Please, why do you always call me sweetheart? I’m not a little boy anymore.”

“You’ll always be my sweetheart. Now listen, I’ve arranged a lunch date for you.”

Vikrant looked at her sharply. He knew this was his father’s idea, but Sharda wouldn’t back down. She met his gaze and spoke firmly.

“You always say you never disobey me. I’ve been telling you for days to spend time with your future wife, but you’ve refused. Now that I’ve arranged something, you’re acting like I did something wrong.”

He sighed internally. She knew exactly how to make him comply. Arguing with her wouldn’t achieve anything but further friction. So, while eating his breakfast, he replied calmly.

“Call her and inform her. I’ll be there at 1:00 PM.”

Sharda’s face lit up. She stood there smiling for a long moment, watching him with quiet pride. She knew him better than anyone else.

“Love is a beautiful thing,” she whispered as he left. “And I want you to feel its beauty. You’ve locked yourself inside a prison of your own making. It’s time to come out. Love is waiting for you.”

CHAPTER 3:

THEIR LIFE

Seated in the private dining room of the Venice Hotel, Vikrant waited technically for Sonakshi. But the truth was, he wasn’t waiting for her. He was engrossed in his work. He had clearly said he would be here at 1:00 PM. It was now 1:20. Still no sign of her. Without a word, he looked at his assistant, Akhil, who immediately understood. With just a glance, he arranged Vikrant’s lunch. If Vikrant were here, he would at least eat before leaving.

Akhil called Sonakshi. Meanwhile, the waiter served Vikrant's continental lunch. When Sonakshi finally walked into the restaurant, his expression remained unchanged. He didn’t even glance at her; he just continued eating.

“Hello…” she said softly.

Still, no reaction. She knew him too well. His cold behavior didn’t surprise her. She quietly sat across from him and observed his plate, nothing unusual. He never changed his menu. He was consistent to the point of obsession.

“I’m not feeling well. That’s why I was late,” she said gently. “I’m sorry. I know your time is important. You can ask anyone, I really wasn’t well.”

Vikrant didn’t respond. Instead, he slid the menu card toward her without looking up. It was his way of telling her to order.

“No, thank you. I’m dieting… Just juice for me.”