The warm ambient lighting of the luxury hotel suite cast a golden glow across the plush carpet. Arnav locked the door behind them, his eyes fixed on Khushi as she untied the delicate dori of her dupatta and let it drape over the back of the sofa.
The lingering tension from earlier seemed to dissolve as Arnav stepped closer, his gaze darkening with a familiar, searing intensity. He reached out, his long fingers trailing lightly along the side of her neck, tucking a loose lock of dark hair behind her ear.
Khushi’s breath hitched. Her pulse raced, a betraying blush creeping up her cheeks as she looked into his molten hazel eyes.
"Arnavji..." she whispered, her hands coming up to rest tentatively against his chest.
"Khushi," he murmured, his voice a low, velvet hum. He leaned down, brushing his lips softly against her temple, then down the curve of her cheek, making her shiver in anticipation. His hands moved to her waist, pulling her flush against his body.
Every barrier they had built over months of misunderstandings seemed to melt into the heat between them. Khushi closed her eyes, tilting her head back, offering him full access to the column of her neck. Arnav leaned in closer, his breath warm against her sensitive skin, his lips hovering mere millimeters from hers......
The harsh, loud chime of her phone shattered the silence.
Both of them froze. Arnav closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against hers with a heavy, frustrated sigh, his grip on her waist tightening for a brief second before loosening. Khushi blinked, her heart pounding in her chest as she stepped back and pulled her phone from her purse on the console table.
An unknown number flashed on the screen. Knowing the last caller from an unknown line had been Shyam, Khushi’s expression instantly turned cold. Without hesitation, she tapped the record button and switched the call to speaker.
"How are you, Khushiji?"
Arnav, who had been watching her facial expression shift, instantly tensed at the sound of Shyam’s sickeningly sweet voice. His jaw clenched so tight a muscle ticked in his cheek.
"Why are you calling me?" Khushi asked coolly.
"Arrey, I miss you, Khushiji... I just wanted to hear your voice."
Arnav closed his eyes in sheer frustration, his hands curling into tight fists as he prepared to snap, but Khushi swiftly caught his hand, squeezing it and gesturing for him to stay silent.
"If you called just to remind me of your creepy behavior, I’m hanging up. I have better things to do."
"Arrey, it's just that I’m feeling hopeful and happy today. When I’m happy, I want to hear your voice. Why are you angry? Are Arnav and his sister still troubling you? They are selfish people."
"You don't need to worry about me," Khushi replied firmly, her voice unshakeable. "I have my family to look out for me- that includes my husband and my sister-in-law."
"Really, Khushiji? Ask yourself... what if you hadn't revealed everything about me that day? Arnav would still be making your life miserable in the name of protecting his sister, while she lived in a fool's paradise. You would be suffering for no fault of your own. I am the only one who loved you unconditionally. Even your foster family expects you to constantly repay them for adopting you. But me? I loved you for who you are. I called to remind you that once this divorce drama is over, I will win the case. I’ll ruin the Raizadas, and then we can start fresh. Think about it. You don't deserve to suffer with Arnav. He isn't capable of love."
The line went dead with a harsh click.
Khushi lowered the phone, looking over at Arnav, who seemed momentarily frozen in place. The atmosphere in the room had shifted entirely—the passion from moments ago replaced by a heavy, suffocating quiet.
"Khushi..." Arnav’s voice was barely a whisper.
"Ji, Arnavji?"
"Are you okay?"
"I’m fine, Arnavji. I’m just wondering... why is Shyam so confident about winning? What does he actually have on us?"
Arnav hadn't been thinking about strategy; he was reeling from the venom Shyam had spewed. Every word had sliced through him like a blade, awakening the dormant, ugly guilt he tried so hard to bury. Shyam wasn't entirely wrong—people had taken advantage of Khushi's pure, selfless nature, and worst of all, he had been the leader of that pack. Caught up in bitter remorse, Arnav hadn't read between the lines of Shyam's legal threat.
Khushi, however, remained practical. She was focused on the immediate threat: had Shyam uncovered something to leverage in court?
Noticing his deep distraction, Khushi stepped closer and squeezed his hand reassurely.
"Arnavji, don't take his words to heart. We just need to figure out what he might use against Di in court. Once we clear that, we can close Shyam's chapter forever."
Arnav shook his head gently, looking into her innocent eyes. "No, Khushi. That’s not what I’m going to focus on right now."
Khushi looked at him in surprise.
"Di told me she wants to handle the legal battle herself," Arnav explained softly, his thumb lightly brushing the back of her hand. "I’m going to stand by her and let her fight it. Ever since you came into my life, family issues have constantly gotten between us. I won't let that happen anymore. You and our relationship are my priority now. We came here to spend time together, and that’s exactly what we’re going to do."
Khushi looked at him with warm affection, her eyes softening as she leaned into his side. He was right. They needed to protect their bond above everything else.
Even if their mood is ruined he still wants to make her day end with a happy note.
"There's a local chaat shop on the next street," Arnav offered with a slight, reassuring smile. "Shall we go? You'll love their golgappas."
"Of course! Let's go."
Though the unsettling call had disrupted their evening and stalled their intimacy, Khushi felt a deeper sense of closeness between them than ever before.
Later that night, after returning from the chaat shop, they lay down on the large bed in their suite and slept. It had been an exhausting day, and tomorrow they had to return to Delhi.
The next morning, they went down for breakfast in the hotel restaurant, enjoying a quiet meal together. Afterward, they spent their time until 11:30 walking through the hotel garden holding hands and shopping for gifts for their family and friends at a local market.
On the surface, everything looked serene. He held her hand, carried her bags, and answered her with gentle nods. But beneath his calm exterior, Shyam's poisonous words were gnawing at Arnav's soul, forcing him to back off completely from physically getting intimate with her.
What if I’m just taking advantage of her good heart again by making her forgive me? the thought tormented him. What if she forgave me and agreed to start fresh only because it was convenient? Because it keeps both families happy? No... I can't let that happen. I won't use her forgiveness to satisfy my own desires.
Beside him, Khushi smiled as she picked out a pair of traditional bangles, completely unaware of the dark, chaotic storm raging inside her husband's mind.
------------------------------------------
Midday sunlight spilled through the double-height glass windows of the Kapadia mansion as the front doors swung open. GK Kaka led the way, carrying small bags of prasadam, followed closely by Mukku, who was still bubbling with energy despite the long journey back from Tirupati. Behind them walked Arvind and Mansi Kapadia. Though they divided most of their time between their quiet estate in Lucknow and their place in the US, they come to check on Anuj. Earlier Mukku was staying with them but as she was determined to study in India they got plenty of time to roam around the world as a couple.
Anuj stepped into the living room to greet them, wrapping his mother in a warm hug before pulling his father and Mukku into embrace.
Mansi pulled back slightly, her sharp eyes scanning her son’s face. There was a lightness in his demeanor, an undeniable, radiant flush of joy that he hadn't worn in months. Anuj was always polite and warm, but today he looked downright happy.
"The darshan was so peaceful, Anuj," GK Kaka said, placing the sweet box on the dining table. "Mukku barely let us rest, but it was worth every step."
"I told you Kaka, standard queue is always faster if you know which line to pick," Mukku teased, collapsing onto the sofa.
While Arvind joined GK Kaka near the dining area to unpack the temple offerings, Mansi walked slowly toward the living room seating area. She had never been an overbearing mother; she and Arvind had raised Anuj and Mukku with trust, boundaries, and freedom. But a mother’s intuition rarely misses its mark.
As she leaned down near the corner sofa to place her handbag, something caught her eye, glinting subtly against the dark mahogany baseboards in the tight crevice behind the cushions.
She reached down casually and pulled out a delicate gold chain featuring a small, ornate Krishna pendant.
Mansi looked at it thoughtfully. Anuj gave his entire household staff the day off as soon as Mukku left for Tirumala, meaning standard deep vacuuming hadn't happened this morning. Someone had been here very recently. And given the delicate, personal nature of the piece, it wasn't just a casual visitor.
Mansi was far too tactful to demand answers or invade her son’s space. With a faint, knowing tilt of her head, she lightly placed the chain onto the corner of the polished glass coffee table and strolled toward the kitchen, acting entirely unbothered.
A few minutes later, Anuj walked into the living room to grab his phone. His eyes swept across the coffee table, and he froze for a fraction of a second. His hand moved swiftly, snatching the necklace off the glass and slipping it deep into his trousers pocket. He glanced around quickly to see if anyone had noticed. Satisfied that the room was seemingly unobservant, he let out a quiet breath.
From the kitchen doorway, Mansi caught the entire silent maneuver. She hid a soft smile behind her tea cup. This is going to be very interesting, she thought.
Upstairs in his master bedroom, Anuj pulled out his phone. A notification was already waiting for him from Anjali:
Did you happen to find my chain anywhere around the house? I think the clasp came loose. I didn't notice it was missing.
Anuj typed back immediately, a smile tugging at his lips: Got it safe in my pocket. I’ll keep it until I see you next.
Anjali spent the remainder of her afternoon surrounded by her family. By the time evening rolled around, the household had quieted down. She took a long, hot shower, letting the warm water wash away the exhaustion of a demanding week.
Her life lately had been a whirlwind—demanding, tiring, and constantly moving. Yet, beneath the physical strain, there was a profound happiness she hadn't felt in years.
Standing in front of her vanity after changing into her nightwear, her thoughts shifted, bringing a familiar prick of anxiety and guilt.
She needed to resolve the legal binding of her marriage. The guilt of keeping Anuj in the dark about her marital status weighed heavily on her chest every time she looked into his clear, honest eyes. It wasn't that she had actively lied; the topic had simply never surfaced in their conversations. But now that they were involved like this, he deserved the truth.
Yet, fear kept her tongue tied.
That night at the hotel was supposed to be a one-time encounter—a fleeting moment of stolen passion to last a lifetime. But she had grown greedy. She wanted more of him. Anuj was the man she had been hopelessly, helplessly in love with since the very moment she understood what love meant.
Deep down, though, she convinced herself she wasn't a match for him. Anuj Kapadia deserved perfection, someone unburdened by a past. To protect him—and perhaps to protect her own fragile heart—she believed keeping this strictly as an affair was for the best. That way, he would never feel the heavy obligation of commitment or a formal relationship. He could walk away freely whenever he chose.
She had tried to state those terms clearly to him before, but the intense, unyielding look in his eyes whenever she brought it up left her utterly unable to decipher what he was really feeling.
Anjali shook her head, running a brush through her damp hair. She couldn't overthink this tonight; she just needed to go with the flow. But resisting him was becoming an impossible battle. She was growing completely, wildly crazy for him.
Reaching into her drawer, she pulled out a delicate piece of silk lingerie Anuj had gifted her. She undressed and slipped into the fiery red fabric, standing before the full-length mirror.
She had never done anything like this before—never admired her own body simply to please a man. For years, she had viewed herself through a lens of duty, reserve, and quiet restraint, treating her own form as secondary to everything else in her life. But the way Anuj looked at her changed everything. The raw, reverent adoration in his eyes had slowly reshaped how she saw herself, teaching her to love her own skin. He made her feel wanted in a way she had never thought possible—treasured, desired, and fiercely alive.
Adjusting the delicate ribbons along the sides, she drew them snug, letting the sheer, radiant fabric frame her curves and highlight her full bust. She picked up a matching shade of blood-red lipstick, carefully tracing her lips before untying her hair and letting the dark, lush waves fall over her shoulders. She wanted to look nothing short of breathtaking for him tonight—not just for his pleasure, also because he had guided her to choose the freedom to embrace her own passion without shame.
Her body was still slightly sore from their repeated encounters at his place yesterday, but the ache only stoked her desire. Was he feeling this same insatiable pull?
A mischievous smile danced on her lips. She grabbed her phone, angled it for a half-profile selfie that captured just enough to stir the imagination, and hit send.
Ready for you, she captioned it.
Not even three seconds passed before her phone began ringing. She answered, bringing the receiver to her ear with a soft chuckle.
"Are you planning to kill me?" Anuj’s voice came through the speaker, tight and breathless.
"Am I?" Anjali murmured teasingly. "I just thought I’d try it on."
"Oh god, Anjali... you look ravishing. I wish I could see you right now."
"Then come over."
There was a sudden pause on the line. "What? You said we will meet after court hearing only. Are you serious?"
"Yes," she whispered, her tone dropping into a low, heat-laced murmur. "You can enter through the back gate, come past the poolside, and enter straight into my bedroom. There are no security cameras in that zone."
"You’re really serious..." Anuj breathed out, his composure visibly unspooling. "I thought you were just teasing me."
"I’m not teasing you, Anuj, Also chote and Khushiji will reach early morning, we have few hours." she said softly, her voice thick with passion. "Think about it... if we were lovers back in college and I invited you over to my house at night, wouldn't you have come if I told you I am alone in the house and waiting for you like this?"
That single sentence shattered whatever restraint he had left.
"I'm coming," he said raspy, before ending the call.
Downstairs in the Kapadia mansion, the house was quiet. Anuj grabbed his car keys, slipped down the rear staircase, and exited through the side glass doors into the courtyard, moving with practiced stealth.
Up on the second-floor balcony, Mansi stood in the shadows, holding a warm glass of water. She watched her son’s tall frame slip into his car and quietly reverse down the driveway without turning the headlights on until he hit the main road.
She set her glass down, her brows furrowed in gentle concern.
Arvind and she had never been strict parents. They had given Anuj and Mukku complete freedom growing up, choosing to be their confidants and friends rather than authoritative figures. Anuj had always been completely open about the women he had dated in the past—there had never been a reason for secrets in their family.
So why the hidden smiles? Why the secret pendant slipped into pockets? And why was he sneaking out of his own home in the middle of the night like a teenager?
Mansi crossed her arms, looking out at the empty driveway. Whoever this woman was, she had turned her usually composure-bound son upside down—and Mansi was determined to find out who she was.
Back in Shantivan, Anjali quickly wrapped her normal robe over the revealing lingerie, tying the belt loosely around her waist before slipping down the quiet corridors to unlock the back entrance for him.
Anuj, meanwhile, was treating the entire excursion like a high-stakes covert operation. He drove his car straight to his office parking garage to avoid leaving any direct trail, then booked an Uber from there. The sheer thrill of it made his blood rush—it felt forbidden, electric, and utterly intoxicating.
While in the backseat of the ride, he quickly texted her: Do I need to stop and grab protection on the way?
Her response came back within seconds: I bought almost all flavors today so we can try different ones.
Anuj’s heart slammed against his ribs, a helpless, breathless smile breaking across his face as he stared at his phone screen.
To ensure maximum discretion, he deliberately set his drop-off point at a coffee shop roughly 500 meters away from Shantivan. Stepping out into the cool night air, he noticed the Uber driver hadn't pulled away yet. Not wanting to look suspicious standing on a quiet curb at this hour, he popped inside the shop, bought a warm chocolate lava cake, and waited until the car drove off.
Cake box in hand, he walked the rest of the way to Shantivan’s back entrance. True to her word, the gate was unlocked. He slipped inside, pulled it shut with a quiet click, and carefully navigated the path through the poolside toward her bedroom wing.
Standing before her bedroom door, he bypassed knocking and simply dialed her phone. A second later, the door swung silently inward.
Anuj’s breath caught in his throat.
Anjali stood right in front of him, framed by the dim hallway light in the barely-there red lingerie he had bought her. Her hair fell down her back in dark, lush waves, completely free of any jewelry, and her eyes burned with an invitation that made his knees weak. As she began stepping backward into the room, he followed her inside, closing the door behind him and turning the lock.
His gaze swept over her from head to toe. The striking blood-red silk complemented her buttery skin exquisitely, and the rhythmic heave of her chest betrayed that she was dripping with desire every bit as much as he was.
It was only as she took another step back that she noticed the small bakery box in his hand.
"What is that?" she asked, her voice low and velvet.
"Oh, this?" Anuj chuckled, his voice thick with heat. "It’s a chocolate lava cake. I bought it on impulse... but now I’m having some very detailed ideas about eating it off you."
A dangerous, sultry spark lit up her eyes. "Acha? Then remove whatever you’re wearing right now Mr. Kapadia. I feel like you are overdressed."
With that, she let her robe slide down her shoulders and spread herself languidly across the mattress.
Anuj set the cake box on the bedside table and immediately pulled his t-shirt over his head.
Lifting herself slightly on her elbows, Anjali watched him without breaking eye contact. Every rational thought seemed to evaporate whenever she was near this man.
Just yesterday, she had told him they shouldn't meet again until her court hearing was settled—yet here she was, having him to sneak into her family home, lying semi-naked on her bed, offering herself up to him completely.
Anuj looked down at her, his eyes shining with pure devotion, as if she were the most magnificent, breathtaking sight on the planet.
"So... what do you want me to do in this dress?" she asked softly.
"What about a dance?" he murmured with a smile.
Anjali blinked, caught off guard. "Haa?"
"Is that too much?"
"No... I mean, if I play something out loud, someone in the house might hear it and come to my room."
Anuj paused, then reached into his pocket. "What if we use a pair of wireless earbuds? One for you, one for me, and we sync the track. Would that work?"
"That... that would be okay, I guess," she admitted, a sudden wave of shyness sweeping over her despite her bold outfit.
Noticing her hesitation, he softened instantly. "Anjali... if you're not comfortable, you don't have to."
"No... no, I want to do it," she said quickly, her gaze locking back onto his. "Shall I dance for Namak Ishq Ka?"
Anuj gave her a warm thumbs-up, connecting the earbuds to his phone and handing one side to her.
Anjali slipped the earbud in, walked over to the wall, switched off the bright overhead lighting, and turned on the soft, warm glow of the night lamp. As the heavy bass and playful beat of the song began echoing directly into her ear, the shyness melted away. She began to sway, her hips moving seamlessly to the music, casting long, hypnotic shadows across the room.
Anuj sat back against the headboard, watching her in absolute awe, his hands gripping the sheets tight as the torture of watching her move proved almost too much to endure.
Unable to stay still a second longer, he rose from the bed and stepped directly into her space.
Slowly, deliberately, his fingers found the side ties of her outer garment, pulling them loose. The sheer lace fell away to the floor, leaving her in her briefs. His palms skimmed over every inch of her exposed skin, pulling her flushed body flush against his before his mouth captured hers in a deep, bruising kiss.
"Anjali Raizada..." he growled against her lips, his breath ragged. "You are hot as hell. You make me lose my mind."
In response, Anjali wrapped her arms around his neck, using her weight to push him backward onto the mattress and climbing smoothly on top of him.
Looking down at him with a wicked, playful grin, she whispered, "Now... shall I make you eat that chocolate lava cake off me?"
"Yes, please," he groaned.
Over the next few hours, wrapped in the warm darkness of the room with the quiet shadows dancing against the walls, they lost themselves completely in each other—turning the night into the wilder, sweeter, and most intense lovemaking they had ever shared.
---------------------------------------------------
Shyam stared at the glaring screen of his phone, a sinister, calculating grin twisting his features as he ended the call with Khushi. His mind was already spinning with intricate, devious schemes, piecing together his next move.
If he could just uncover the identity of the man Anjali was secretly seeing, everything would fall into place.
It was the ultimate leverage. Shyam knew the Raizada pride all too well. If he managed to gather concrete evidence—photographs, hotel receipts, or call logs proving that Anjali had been carrying on a secret affair while they were still legally married—he could completely flip the legal battle in his favor. He could drag the sacred Raizada name through the dirt, accuse her of infidelity, and force them into a massive, multi-crore settlement just to keep their precious reputation intact. He would walk away rich, bleeding Arnav Singh Raizada dry.
And then there was Khushi.
Shyam convinced himself that her sharp tone on the phone was merely a temporary shield. In his twisted reality, Khushi was still the same sweet, naive girl who was simply being manipulated by the Raizadas. She was angry right now, but that was only because Arnav had poisoned her mind against him. Deep down, he believed he was the only one who truly understood her, the only one capable of offering her unconditional love. Arnav was a cold, arrogant brute who had forced her into a contract marriage—he could never be a good husband to her.
Once he destroyed the Raizadas in court and secured their fortune, Khushi would finally see the light. She would realize that he was her true savior. They would start a fresh, lavish life together—funded by the Raizada wealth, with his beloved Khushiji right where she belonged: by his side.
First things first, Shyam thought, his eyes narrowing maliciously. He needed proof of Anjali's secret lover, and he needed it fast.
He pulled up his contact list and selected the name of the court clerk he had secretly put on his payroll—the man handling the scheduling and paperwork for Anjali's legal proceedings.
"Track every move she makes," Shyam muttered to himself, his fingers dialing the number. "Find out where she goes, who she meets, and who this ghost is. Once I have his name, the game is mine."
Love,
ST
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