Author's Pov

The cool night air brushed against the balcony as Janisha gently swayed in the hanging chair Dev had sent her, her gaze lost among the constellation lit sky. Dev finished settling Mitthu in his enclosure and stepped outside, pulling up a seat beside her.

"What happened?" he asked softly.

"Nothing, just thinking," Janisha murmured, her voice drifting. "Sitaro ki duniya kitni door hogi? Aur wahan ke logo ke paas kabhi dukh nahi aate honge na!" (How far away must the world of the stars be? And the people there never have sorrows, do they?)

Dev looked up at the quiet expanse of the night, then back at her.

"They must have their home there. Meri tarah nahi honge!" she whispered.

Dev's brows furrowed. "Matlab?" (What do you mean?) he asked gently.

"Matlab yeh ki mere parents ne mujhe choose nahi kiya. They thought of me as a liability. Us din dulha bhaag gaya toh aapko pakad kar aapse shaadi karwa di. What if there's someone else who would have used me, exploited me... then I had no one, no home, nothing." Her voice trembled on the edge of the old, unhealed wound.

Before she could finish"Agar main sitara ban jaun toh..." (If I become a star...)Dev closed the distance, pulling her firmly against his chest.

"Shh... You're already my star. My Pole star. The one that showed me direction when I was lost," he murmured, pressing a tender kiss to the crown of her head.

Janisha looked up, her eyes swimming with unshed tears.

"You know you're the most beautiful and strongest for me. You're my home, Janu," Dev said, holding her gaze with fierce sincerity. "Never say that you have nothing, you always have me, and my everything is already yours, even me."

A hard swallow rattled her throat. "I feel useless!"

Without a second thought, Dev shifted, lifting her right onto his lap and wrapping his arms around her like a sheltering shield.

"Your existence is the most important thing for my living. I can't be alive without you. There's no existence of mine without you. There's no Dev without his Jaan! You're the only one keeping me breathing!" he confessed, raw and unfiltered but she was still staring at him with wide teary eyes.

"Kuch nahi hua hai meri jaan, kuch nahi hoga aage bhi, main hoon na, main sab sambhal lunga! Mai kabhi kuch nahi hone dunga aapko." (Nothing has happened, my love, and nothing will happen in the future either. I'm here, I'll handle everything!)

Janisha let her head rest directly against the steady, heavy thrum of his heart. In that slow, rhythmic beat, the sharp edges of her fear finally softened. So this was the peace, the warmth, the home that she had been missing and searching for all these years.

With a long, shuddering exhale, she closed her eyes, finally letting herself rest. But the sleep was so far. After a while she opened her eyes again.

"Dev ji!" Her soft voice came and he hummed. "Neend nahi aa rahi!" (I am not able to sleep!) She complained like a child and a softness came to his face.

The cool night breeze swept across the balcony, carrying the low, grounding hum of Dev's voice against her ear.

"Suno na sangmarmar ki ye minare,

Kuch bhi nahi hai aage tumhare!

Aaj se dil pe mere raaj tumhara, taaj tumhara!"

His fingers traced slow, soothing paths through her hair while she rested against his steady chest, absorbing the rhythm of his heart.

"Bin tere maddham-maddham

Bhi chal rahi thi dhadkan,

Jab se mile tum hume, aanchal se tere bandhe dil ud raha hai..."

He rubbed her arms, erasing the lingering chill of the night, tucking stray strands behind her ear. She didn't move a muscle, completely surrendering to the safety of the moment.

His gaze flicked up to the sprawling canopy above.

"Suno na aasmano ke ye sitare,

Kuch bhi nahi hai aage tumhare."

The stars burned bright, yet to Dev, they looked pale and ordinary compared to the fragile universe cradled against his heart. He wasn't singing, he was announcing to the stars, to the sky, to the moon, that the star in his arms, is the most beautiful and precious for him.

"Ye dekho sapne mere, neendo se hoke tere,

Raaton se kehte hain lo,

Hum to sawere hain wo sach ho gaye jo!"

A soft kiss brushed the crown of her head by him. Janisha's eyes squeezed shut, a quiet rush of healing washing over her, fingers bunching tighter into the cotton of his shirt as hot, silent moisture tracked her lower lashes.

"Suno na do jahano ke ye nazare,

Kuch bhi nahi hai aage tumhare,

Aaj se dil pe mere raaj tumhara, taaj tumhara!"

Lifting her effortlessly in his arms like a child, Dev stood up and paced slowly across the balcony floor. He adjusted her weight so her head rested right against his shoulder, holding her gaze as he finished the melody right into her eyes. A tender kiss pressed to her forehead anchored her completely.

He didn't stop walking, rocking and swaying her through the quiet night air until the tension bled out of her frame, her breathing softening into deep, even recovery, and her tight fist slowly unfurling from his shirt. She was finally asleep.

A fond, spellbound smile touched his lips. Carrying her inside, he laid her gently down onto the mattress, pulling the warm duvet up to her chin. He brushed a final lock of hair from her cheek, leaning down to plant a soft, lingering kiss on the bridge of her nose.

He wanted to sit and memorize every shadow of her face, yet knew the trap of it, he would never have enough. The deeper he looked, the more insatiable the hunger burned in his soul, never over her, always craving more of the light she brought back into his world, always craving for her, for her presence.

Sunlight filtered through the curtains as Janisha's eyes fluttered open, wrapped snugly in the duvet. Reaching over, she found the other side of the mattress empty. Frowning, she looked around and caught sight of Dev curled on the hard floor right beside the edge of the bed, his head resting near her feet.

Sitting up, she scrambled off the bed, kneeling and tapping his shoulder. Dev's eyes flickered open, blinking heavy sleep away. "Dev ji, aap yahan kyun so rahe hain?" (Why are you sleeping here?) she asked, confused.

"Uh... woh aap so gayi thi na!" (Well... you had fallen asleep!) he mumbled.

"Toh bed par jagah toh thi dusre side!" (There was space on the other side of the bed!) she pointed out.

"Haan, par maine aapse poochha nahi tha na. Earlier I was hurt, that's why you allowed me to sleep on the same bed. But now I don't want to make you uncomfortable," Dev said softly.

Janisha's heart melted right there in her chest.

"Achha, aap ab uthiye aur upar so jaiye!" (Okay, now get up and sleep up here!) she urged. Dev shifted onto the mattress, his shoulders stiff and aching from the cramped, awkward floor angle.

Janisha grabbed her fresh clothes and slipped into the bathroom. When she walked back out, Dev was dead to the world, breathing deeply in post exhaustion sleep. Instead of waking him, she carefully drew the heavy curtains to block the glaring morning light.

Heading over to the cage, she greeted the green and red splash of color. "So? Hungry?" she murmured, scooping Mitthu onto her palm.

"Bhook lagi, bhook lagi, zoron ki bhook lagi!" Mitthu squawked back, making her chuckle as she fetched a bit of bread for him.

After feeding the bird, Janisha whipped up a to prepare poha and tea for herself, then marched down towards Achint's room. Pulling the deadweight up by her shoulder, she hissed, "Achint, uth na yaar! Aaj court jaana hai yaad hai na? Late nahi ho sakte!" (Wake up, yaar! We have to go to court today, remember? We can't be late!)

Achint sat up groggily, hair cascading ghost like over her face with a pathetic whine. Following a sharp mini lecture from Janisha, she dragged herself toward the shower.

Janisha set the breakfast table, then tiptoed back into her bedroom. Dev was still fast asleep. Smiling gently, she scribbled a quick note and leaned down to place it on the side table. As she hovered over him, the morning light caught his relaxed features soft, unguarded, boyish, a stray lock falling over his brow. Without thinking, her hand moved, brushing the hair back from his forehead as a tender, unconscious smile touched her lips.

"Janu!" Achint's voice echoed from the hall.

Janisha snapped upright like she'd been caught, cast one last lingering look at Dev, and hurried out.

"Yeh naya mehmaan kaun hai?" (Who's this new guest?) Achint gasped, staring wide eyed at Mitthu, who tilted his head.

"Main hoon Mitthu, main hoon Mitthu!" the parrot repeated.

Achint's jaw dropped. "Wow, yeh baat karta hai?"

Janisha sat down with a quiet smile, sipping her tea. Mitthu flapped over to land right on the dining edge. "Hello, hello!" he chirped.

Achint giggled. "Hello Mitthu, main hoon Achint!"

"Achhinttttt!" the parrot shrieked in pitch perfect high register imitation.

"Yeh aaya kahan se?" Achint asked between bites of poha.

"Dev ji lekar aaye hain," Janisha replied simply.

"Aww, so cute of him!" Achint cooed.

Mitthu stared hungrily at their bowls, and Achint slid a tiny mound of poha onto the table edge, which the bird immediately dove into.

After breakfast, Janisha and Achint headed out toward the court complex. Outside the towering gates, Abhishek was waiting for them, and together, the three of them walked inside.

The courtroom proceedings wrapped up, and the students spilled out into the corridor. Rishabh gathered them, instructing everyone to dissect the arguments and submit a summary of key points by tomorrow's class. Throughout the entire session, Achint had sat in total, quiet focus, zero sarcasm, zero interruptions. It grated on Rishabh's nerves in a way he couldn't quite name or shake.

Boarding a crowded public bus, Janisha and Achint claimed a bench together, while Abhishek dropped into the seat directly behind them. Achint leaned her head back, eyes shut against the pounding head, while Janisha stared past the smudged glass at the bustling city blur.

Her mind drifted straight to Dev.

Guilt settled heavy in her chest. His relentless gentleness, the way he anticipated quiet needs, the flowers, the hot meals, the talking parrot, the care and every fragile plea for just be beside her and she hadn't truly acknowledged any of it.

Weighing it against the rest of her world, the contrast stung. Her parents hadn't even bothered calling at first, when they finally did, she ignored it, bitter over their settled life abroad while her brother remained too absorbed to check in. The one person who genuinely cared was her bhabhi, who coincidentally is Dev's sister.

And Dev... forced into a sudden, chaotic marriage without knowing the whole truth of her past, yet he had never once made her skin crawl or crossed a line. His past anger hadn't been malice; it was the raw reaction of a man feeling played, and coming clean with her own confession made that fire look fair. Even if tables had turned and Dev had messed up, she wouldn't have bothered apologizing, leave the care. And yet here he was, anchoring her storms and tracking every shadow on her face, asking for apologies and a chance.

A warm moisture blurred her lower lashes. She breathed out a slow, trembling sigh.

She might not know how to run toward him yet, shell shocked by the past, but she wouldn't retreat into the cold either. She would open her eyes, notice his care, and let herself meet him halfway. If she can't take a step forward towards him then she won't back down also.

I am going to give this marriage a chance.

Janisha stepped into the quiet apartment, watching Achint head off toward Abhishek's place instead. Frowning at the empty silence, she walked to her room, only to find Dev missing there, too. With a tired sigh, she slipped into the washroom to clean up, changing into a simple shirt and trousers.

Returning to the hall, she found Dev sitting comfortably on the sofa. His face lit up. "How's your day?"

"It's fine! Aap kahin gaye the?" (It's fine! Did you go somewhere?) she asked.

"Hmm, ek kaam tha! Aur aapse bhi ek kaam hai!" (Hmm, had some work! And I have some work with you too!) Dev replied softly, patting the spot beside him as she walked over and sat down.

He flipped open a leather folder, turning a page and handing her a pen. "Sign here."

"Yeh kya hai?" (What is this?) she frowned.

"Aapse contract karwa raha hoon ki ab aap har janam ke liye mujhse bandh gayi hain aur mujhe chhor nahi sakti aap!" (I'm making you sign a contract that you're bound to me for every birth now and you can't leave me!) he teased, leaning dangerously close.

Janisha's breath hitched. She averted her gaze, her eyes dipping down to read the fine print.

"Aap sign nahi karna chahti ispar? Mujhse chhutkara chahti hain aap?" (You don't want to sign this? Do you want to get rid of me?) Dev narrowed his eyes in mock grievance.

With a soft sigh at his dramatics, she took the pen and signed the bottom line. Then, curiosity poking at her, she flipped back to look at the front title page. Her brows jammed together, lips parting in stunned silence as realization hit.

She looked up at him. Calm, unbothered, smiling him.

"Yeh toh..." (This is...) She couldn't finish.

"Property papers. Meri saari property ab aapke naam hai," (Property papers. All my property is in your name now,) Dev said softly. "Mere paas ghar toh nahi hai apna. Ranawat mansion Nia ka hai, aur maine kabhi family ke alag ghar socha hi nahi tha. Par main aapke liye ghar banana chahta hoon, Jaan. Main chahta hoon ki woh ghar aapke hisaab se bane, chhota, bada, simple, extravagant, multicolour, whatever you want. Aur phir main aapke saath, aapke ghar mein rahunga!" (I don't have a house of my own. Ranawat mansion belongs to Nia, and I never thought of a separate house from my family. But I want to build a house for you, Jaan. I want that house built your way, small, big, simple, extravagant, multicolour, whatever you want. And then I will live with you, in your house!)

A single tear spilled over Janisha's lashes, tracking warm down her cheek. "Aa... aap yeh... zaroorat nahi thi!" (Aa... you... this wasn't necessary!)

Dev reached out, thumb brushing the tear away before pressing a soft, reverent kiss to her forehead. Eyes closed, she absorbed the warmth.

"Zaroorat nahi, chahat hai meri ki main aapko aapka ghar bana kar doon," (Not a necessity, it's my desire that I build your house for you, he whispered, cupping her face.

Janisha looked at him, chest tight, tumbling over the edges of a love too vast to measure. A man who signed away his empire just because she felt small and untethered last night. Why?

"Why are you like this?" she breathed.

"Because I LOVE you," he answered simply, shattering every remaining wall around her heart.

"Why? I didn't do anything to make you love me."

"There's everything in you that makes me fall harder and harder. Everything about you is so, so important for my life. Your existence is necessary to keep me breathing. You make me feel alive, Jaan! You make me feel like I really belong somewhere, to someone. So how can I not love you, hmm?" A soft, genuine smile touched his lips. "I can't do anything. You're my love, and I love even the air you breathe."

His expression softened with plea. "Don't cry. I have already made you cry so much, so now don't. I can't bear your tears... they make me feel breathless."

A broken sob slipped past her lips. Without another thought, Janisha launched herself forward, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. Dev caught her flush against his chest, arms locking tight as he rubbed soothing circles into her back.

Flutter, flutter.

Mitthu zipped from his cage, landing right on the arm of the sofa, head cocked sideways.

"Romance, romance, romance!" the parrot shrieked in high pitched imitation. Dev and Janisha both broke into a startled chuckle against each other's shoulders.

Janisha pulled back just enough to narrow her eyes at the bird. "Yeh sab kahan se sikha hai tumne?" (Where did you learn all this?)

Mitthu bobbed his head, let out a mimic laugh, and crowed, "Ladki sharma gayi!" (The girl got shy!)

Janisha buried her face back in Dev's chest, shoulders shaking with a bright, release filled laugh while Dev wrapped her closer, home finally secured.

Dev's shoulders were stiff. Janisha walked out of the room, having changed into a simple t shirt and shorts. She looked at Dev, who was sitting at the edge of the bed awkwardly rubbing his shoulder.

"Dev ji?" she called out, walking over.

He looked back. "Is there any pain in your shoulders?" she asked.

"No, just a little, maybe I slept awkwardly!" he said, keeping his face neutral.

She examined his expression, then pressed down slightly on his shoulder. Dev immediately hissed, squeezing his eyes shut. She pulled her hand back and glared at him.

"Aapko pain hai toh batana chahiye na!" (If you're in pain, you should tell me!) she scolded, walking over to the drawer to fetch a pain relief ointment.

"Jaan, it's nothing, till morning it will be fine!" he tried to wave it off, ignoring her protests.

Instead, she sat right behind him. "Take off your shirt!" she commanded.

"But..." he hesitated.

"Dev ji, do it!" she said firmly.

He sighed, pulling his shirt off. His bare, broad shoulders and toned back came into view. Janisha felt a hot flush creep up her neck. Squeezing a dab of ointment onto her palm, she began working it into his sore muscle.

"Uh... I think you should lie down on your stomach!" she mumbled.

He flipped over onto his front. As she shifted closer to knead the stiffness out of his shoulders, her stomach did a nervous, fluttering flip. She pressed her lips together, fighting the sudden rush of heat. When he shifted slightly and his back muscles flexed, her fingers paused, gripping a little tighter. She pressed her legs tightly. Slowly, steadily, she massaged the tight knots, watching his eyes drift shut in deep relief.

After a few minutes, she stepped away to wash the ointment off her hands, even splashing cool water onto her face to steady her erratic pulse.

Returning to the room, she found him still lying face down in the exact same position. Spotting a loose pillow, she reached over to slide it comfortably beneath his head.

Before she could shift the pillow, his eyes snapped open and he rolled sharply onto his back. The sudden movement threw her off balance, tumbling her right down on top of him.

Janisha's eyes went wide as saucers, sprawled flat against his warm, bare chest. His hand automatically locked around the curve of her waist to steady her. Heat flooded her face, she hadn't worn innerwear under the loose t-shirt, and every inch of her soft front pressed flush against his hard torso.

He could feel the intimate contact instantly, his grip tightening imperceptibly. He reached up, tucking a stray lock behind her ear as she swallowed hard, her heart hammering like a trapped bird.

"Uh... woh!" she choked out, her brain completely short circuiting.

Dev rubbed his thumb softly along the edge of her waist. "Shh... calm down!" he murmured, his gaze tracing her crimson cheeks. "Are you feeling uncomfortable?"

She shook her head against his collarbone.

"Dar lag raha hai?" (Are you scared?) A tiny, affectionate smile touched his lips.

She gulped hard, unable to meet his eyes, keeping her lashes lowered. Dev shifted slightly upward, planting a tender, lingering kiss on each of her closed eyelids, followed by a long, grounding pressure against her forehead.

Her rigid muscles melted. "Calm down. I won't do anything without your consent," he promised softly.

Taking a slow breath, he loosened his fingers from her waist. Janisha scrambled back like a startled rabbit, diving onto her side of the mattress and pulling the blanket tight to her chin with eyes squeezed shut.

A fond, helpless smile curved Dev's lips in the dim room as he settled back beside her, home quiet and safe in the dark.

For the past few days, Achint hadn't just stopped troubling Rishabh, she had deployed a cold, deliberate radio silence. No smart remarks in the hallway, no dramatic eye rolls across the lecture hall, and a few times, she had even visibly twisted her mouth in mild disgust when her path crossed his but now nothing.

Rishabh had spent continuous days frowning at his own reflection. What did he do? Worse, he realized with a jolt of unwanted self awareness that he had actually gotten habitual of her sharp tongue, finding the sudden vacuum jarringly quiet. And when she doesn't do it, he felt like something was empty, unfilled.

Today was no different. Standing at the front of the lecture hall, digital pen ghosting his fingers, his eyes drifted repeatedly to her row. She was sitting upright, pen moving steadily across paper, looking like the picture of an exemplary, hyper focused law intern.

For a while, he continued his lecture. But then he noticed, he wasn't teaching that much, the way she's writing.

Suspicious of the piety, Rishabh walked down the aisle, his leather soled shoes muting against the floorboards. He stopped beside her desk and looked down. She wasn't charting creatures. She was deep in focus to draw cartoon creatures. Rishabh crossed his arms, a warm, dangerous glint sparking in his dark eyes. Instead of being furious, a strange, helpless amusement tickled his ribs.

He reached down and plucked the spiral notebook right off her desk.

Achint's head snapped up. Her coffee brown eyes dilated in sheer, unadulterated terror. Rishabh flipped the page. There, rendered in aggressive blue ink, was a massive, bulbous eyed cartoon face glaring daggers with oversized, cartoonish pupils, captioned in bold letters: "Khadoos aankh dikha raha hai!"

He flipped another page. Two stick figures: one glaring furiously while the other smugly shoveled a food delivery parcel into its mouth, labeled: "Ye gaya khana mere pet me!"

Rishabh lifted his gaze from the sketchpad to Achint. She offered him a wide teeth clenching, smile.

"Toh ye case study ke notes bana rahi thi aap, Miss Sharma?" Rishabh asked, his voice slightly amused.

Achint slowly stood up, smoothing her Kurti front with shaking fingers. "Nahi sir, wo toh mai pehle hi bana chuki hu, ye toh bas... side hobbies hain!" she piped up, flashing a confident, high wire grin that made his chest loosen in a way that terrified his logic center.

To his own shock, he didn't feel an ounce of professional outrage. If anything, he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep a straight face. "Achha? Toh ye side hobbies aapko lectures me hi yaad aati hain?"

"Nahi sir, yaad toh pehle bhi aati thi, lekin aapko dekh kar ye hobbies zinda ho gayi!" she shot back with a reckless, cheeky recovery.

Rishabh narrowed his eyes, fighting a losing battle against his own lips. "Mujhe dekh kar aap cartoon banati hain?"

"Sir, accha banta hai!" she defended proudly.

Before Rishabh could deliver a dry reprimand, a sharp, metallic voice fractured the air from the doorway.

"So you were here to learn cartooning, Miss Sharma?"

The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees. Everyone spun around. Standing in the threshold was the Institute Controller, face carved in stone, eyes cold as winter slate.

Rishabh froze, the notebook still in his hand. The Controller strode down the aisle, plucked the incriminating sketchpad straight from Rishabh's fingers, flipped the page, and stared at the caricature of the glaring 'Khadoos'.

He looked up at Achint, whose defiant color had completely drained into ash.

"Come to my office right now. I have had enough of your theatrical defiance, Miss Sharma. I am calling your father today."

Achint's breath hitched. Panic, raw, jagged, and suffocating flashed across her features. She looked past the Controller, her gaze locking onto Rishabh with a desperate, breaking plea. "Sir... maine aapko koi pareshan nahi kiya is baar, please don't call my father!"

Rishabh fingers curled tightly until his knuckles went white. He had zero intention of seeing her broken over a doodle, and worse, the mention of that cold, ghost like father of hers made his stomach churn with protective wrath.

Abhishek and Janisha bolted out of their seats. "Sir, please! Don't call her father! Please!" Janisha pleaded, hands pressed together.

Achint turned sharply and walked out of the room under the Controller's heavy watch, her shoulders rigid, fighting tears she refused to let drop.

Rishabh looked from her retreating back to Janisha and Abhishek.

"Sir, she's a brilliant student. Her case briefs are better than half this batch, you can test her. Just... do not call her father. She won't be able to handle that," Janisha urged, voice trembling with real fear.

Rishabh's jaw set hard. He dropped his gaze, swallowed the tight knot in his throat, and gave a sharp nod. "I'll try."

He dismissed the remaining class with a curt wave, zipped his laptop inside his leather bag with vicious efficiency, and stalked down the corridor toward the administrative wing.

The air in the Controller's office was thick with stale paper, impending judgment, and the sharp bite of impending doom. Achint stood rigid in front of the desk, hands clasped loosely in front of her kurti, eyes locked stubbornly on the scuffed floorboards while the Controller's voice lashed out like a whip.

"I have had enough of you, Achint Sharma. Getting this internship doesn't mean you own the institution! I saw your online classes mischief too, what was that filth you muttered on an unmuted mic? Do you treat your trainers like a joke? Calling him names, drawing grotesque caricatures, and then defending it to his face?!"

"Sir, I'm sorry, I had no intentions of hurting Rishabh sir," Achint murmured, her voice stripped of its usual bravado, flat and gray.

Rishabh stepped half a pace forward, his hand raised in a pacifying gesture. "Sir, let it be. It's a minor lapse in focus, no disciplinary action is..."

The heavy mahogany door clicked open.

"Hello, sir," the Controller greeted smoothly, standing up to shake hands with the tall, sharply tailored figure stepping inside.

Ashwin Sharma. Cold eyed, impeccably groomed, radiating the expensive, hollow authority of a man who viewed human relationships as transactional ledgers. Achint's throat constricted. She didn't look up, refusing to offer him even the dignity of her gaze, though her jaw locked so hard a muscle twitched in her cheek.

The Controller motioned Ashwin over, briefing him in a clipped, aggrieved summary of cartoon doodles, classroom insubordination, and past gala few more mischief of her class bunk.

Ashwin's expression darkened into ugly, public embarrassment. Without a word of warning to the room, he strode across the Persian rug, closed the distance to Achint, and lashed out.

Slap.

The dry, cracking sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed off the drywall. Achint's head snapped violently to the side, a crimson welt blooming instantly across her dark cheek.

Rishabh's world narrowed to a pinprick of white hot fury. Before his brain even processed the physics of movement, he had crossed the gap, caught Ashwin's forearm in a bruising grip, and shoved him back a full step, planting his broad frame squarely between Ashwin and Achint.

Ashwin staggered, his eyes flaring with aristocratic shock. "Mr, move aside. I need to talk to my daughter!"

"It's not the way to talk, Mr. Ashwin Sharma," Rishabh's voice dropped into an icy, deadly register. "You do not touch her. Not here, and certainly not when I am standing in the room."

"Why?!" Ashwin spat, chest heaving. "She disrespected your authority, didn't she? She made a mock of you!"

"Whatever she did belongs in an academic review, between US," Rishabh countered sharply, throwing a protective shadow over Achint.

The room went dead silent. Everyone, including the Controller, stared at Rishabh, sensing a line being crossed from faculty duty into something raw, fierce, and terrifyingly personal.

"Sir, I think this is going far beyond professional bounds," the Controller frowned, adjusting his glasses.

Rishabh didn't flinch. "And slapping his own daughter is professional behavior, Director?"

"She is always like this!" Ashwin cut in, his voice rising, venomous and cornered. "You don't know how reckless, how ungrateful she is! You saw how she humiliated me in front of the judiciary panel at the gala! She was born just to tear down what I built!"

Achint's head lifted slowly. Her eyes, bright, wet with unfallen tears, burning with a fire that had survived twenty three years of frost, locked onto her father.

"Then you should have killed me the day I was born," Achint said, her voice terrifyingly steady. "Because from childhood to today, you've done nothing for me. And I don't regret a single second of embarrassing you. You earned every drop of it."

"You're crossing limits!" Ashwin snarled.

"So let's end it!" She exploded, stepping out from behind Rishabh's shoulder, confronting the man with total, blazing liberation. "End this relationship. From today, you are no one to me. Because you were never my father when I was drowning!"

Ashwin sneered, a cruel, mocking curve of the lip. "You wouldn't survive twenty four hours without my name, Achint. Every meal, every roof, every thread on your back is funded by my checkbook."

"I DESPISE YOU AND YOUR MONEY. I DON'T NEED IT. AND FROM TODAY, YOU ARE A GHOST TO ME!" she shouted right into his face, chest heaving, tears finally spilling hot and fast down her stained cheeks.

The Controller slammed a palm on the desk. "You can be expelled out!"

Achint didn't blink. She wiped her cheek raw with the heel of her palm, her chin high. "Then do it."

Without another glance at the men in the room, she spun on her heel and walked out the door, her shoulders locked rigid.

Outside in the corridor, Janisha and Abhishek froze mid stride, having caught the tail end of the shouting match through the frosted glass. Their blood ran cold.

"Achint!" Janisha cried out, rushing forward. Achint didn't stop, didn't turn her head, her pace turning into a blind, desperate flight toward the front gates. She bolted past the security desk, flagged down an auto rickshaw idling by the curb, and shoved herself inside just as the driver dropped gear.

"Bhaiya, jaldi chalo!"

By the time Janisha and Abhishek burst through the glass doors, breathless and shouting her name, the auto was already merging into the afternoon traffic blur, swallowing her away.

Janisha grabbed Abhishek's arm, knuckles white. "Chal! We need to follow her!"

Abhishek didn't hesitate, flagging down the next available auto within seconds. "Bhai, uss auto ke peeche chalo!"

Inside the quiet vacuum of the

Controller's office, Rishabh stood frozen. His hand was still half clenched from where he had shoved Ashwin, his heart hammering against his ribs in a sickening, heavy squeeze. He looked at the empty doorway she had vanished through, and for the first time in 31 years, the iron walls he had built around his own ghost town heart felt completely, irrecoverably breached.