The sound of breaking glass was like a gunshot in the silence. It stopped me cold.I turned sharply, my breath hitching in my throat as my eyes landed on the scattered shards at her feet. The frame.
His frame.
My grandfather’s photograph lay shattered on the floor, his kind eyes now fractured into a hundred pieces. The weight of it slammed into my chest like a blow, knocking the air from my lungs.
For a moment, the world around me blurred. The rich scent of old books, the warmth of a wrinkled hand ruffling my hair, the deep, rumbling laughter echoed in my ears—it all came back in a cruel rush.
The guilt I carried for him, the weight of the past I could never erase, pressed down on me like a vice.
I lifted my gaze to her, my pulse a deafening roar in my ears. She was standing there, unbothered, unaffected—as if she hadn’t just stomped on the only thing that still held meaning for me.Rage ignited like fire in my veins.My patience snapped, my control disintegrating.The roar of blood in my ears drowned out everything else. I moved without thinking, closing the distance between us in two furious strides.
Her lips parted, eyes blown wide—caught between shock and the sting of guilt. Before a single word could leave her mouth, my hand snapped forward, closing around her arm with a grip that brokered no mercy.
She gasped, the heat of her skin searing against my palm, her body jolting as I yanked her out of the closet and into the open.
She staggered, crashing against the edge of the bed, her fingers clawing for balance. Shallow breaths tore from her lips, her chest rising and falling in frantic rhythm, as if she couldn’t decide whether to run… or explain.
"I'm sor—"
"You bloody fool!" My voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. "How the hell did you dare to touch my things?"
She flinched but didn’t look away,her lips parted as if trying to form an explanation, but I wasn’t interested in hearing it.
"I didn’t mean it… Mr. Rath—"
The name felt like poison.
"Shut the fuck up," my voice was venom, cutting through the air like steel.
Her breath quickened, her chest heaving with restrained anger.
"Will you let me speak?," she snapped, voice sharp.
I stepped forward, rage simmering just beneath the surface. “First, your damned parents shattered my family,” I growled, voice low and dangerous, “and now you? You’re no different. Walking the same path. Following in their footsteps.Just like them.”
For a moment, the room crackled with the weight of unspoken wounds.
And then, she did something that ignited the inferno.
She grabbed my collar.
Her fingers twisted in the fabric, yanking me closer—challenging me.Yet I didn't bulge.I held my ground, unmoving my gaze steady on her.
"If I'm being patient, that doesn't mean you can say anything, Mr. Rathod." Her voice was sharp, laced with defiance. "Stay in your limits."
My grip on her tightened.
“My parents have nothing to do with you,” she spat, but her voice wasn’t steady anymore. It wavered between fury and something else—something fragile.
“So don’t drag them into this.”
I could hear it—the war inside her. The rage. The pain. And buried beneath it… guilt? Regret?
My patience shattered.
I wrenched her hands off my collar, gripping her wrists tight enough to bruise.
"Lay your hands on my collar again.I'll show you exactly why you shouldn't touch it.. " My voice was lethal.
"So..Keep..Those..Bloody..Hands..To..Yourself..." I yanked her hands down, stepping into her space, my breath heavy with restrained rage.
"You should be the one knowing your limits.Or I will teach you one."
A warning.
One she should heed.
Her breathing hitched. I caught the flicker of fear in her eyes—brief, unguarded—before she masked it instantly with defiance as if willing herself not to waver.
But instead of backing down—she pushed back.
"Oh, just shut up!" she hissed, voice sharp. "Respect is earned, not forced. And it’s given to those who deserve it."
The fire in my chest exploded.
With a swift, sharp motion, I grabbed her jaw.My fingers dug into her soft skin, forcing her head up to meet my gaze.
She stilled.
My grip on her neck was both harsh and possessive.
"And always watch your tone when you speak in front of me," My voice was dark, dangerously low," This is the second time you've tried to shut me up."
I leaned in, my breath brushing against her cheek.
"Do it again, and I’ll make sure you regret it."
Her chest rose and fell against mine, our breaths tangled in a silent war.
"Get out of my room." My grip loosened, but my dominance remained. "You're not living here anymore."
Her eyes locked with mine—furious, unbroken. She was trembling beneath my touch, but she didn’t flinch. Not even when I leaned closer, voice a whisper laced with venom.
“Get away.”
Then, with one swift motion, I released her and shoved her back, fingers dragging across her skin like the last thread snapping between us.
She stumbled..
"As if I’m dying to live with you.Living with you is more poisonous than anything."
I smirked darkly.
"Then why didn’t you refuse the wedding when I told you to?", I mocked..
She stiffened.
And then, her next words hit like a blade.
"Jitni zubaan mere saamne chala rahe hain, utni apni mom ke saamne chala li hoti to behtar hota…"
My entire body tensed.
Silence stretched—thick, heavy, dangerous.
Then, without another word, I grabbed her wrist and shoved her onto the couch.
She gasped, eyes darting between me and my hand.
"You were Right,I could have..But Now I will...Sit here."
The silence that followed was deafening.My eyes were storm clouds, and hers, equally dark, filled with everything we had left unsaid.I stormed to the study, grabbing the divorce papers.
"You want to see what I can do?" I snapped, signing them in front of her.
I tossed them onto her lap.
"Take these. Sign them. Free me from this suffocation."
She stared at them, unmoving.
"What happened?," I taunted, voice dripping in mockery... "All that fire, all that attitude—you were just running your mouth, weren’t you? But when it comes to actually doing something, suddenly, you’ve got nothing to say."
She clenched her jaw, pushing the papers back onto the sofa.
"I won’t sign them..." she spat, her voice laced with venom. Her eyes burned with a fury that matched mine. "Yeh aapko shaadi se pehle sochna chahiye tha Mr. Rathod"
I laughed bitterly, shaking my head as I shoved the papers toward her.
"You will have to. If you keep this up, you'll regret every single day of your life." My voice was low, dangerous. "Time doesn’t stop, and trust me—people move on."
She exhaled sharply, a mix of frustration and exhaustion. Her fingers curled slightly.Then, without another word, she turned on her heel and walked away, her footsteps echoing in the silence.
I stood there, chest rising and falling with the remnants of rage. The air was thick with words left unsaid, with the undeniable weight of something we could never take back.
And yet, the weight of the storm pressed down on me, heavy and suffocating.
Flashback Ends
I set the laptop on the table shutting it down, before leaning back, stretching onto the bed. Closing my eyes, I willed sleep to take over. But sleep was far away—just like peace, just like reason.I had never disrespected a woman before. Not once. Not even in my worst moments. And yet, with her, it was different.Her retorts, her defiance, the circumstances we were both forced into—none of it allowed me to be normal with her.
Not that I wanted to.
I didn’t want to figure things out. Didn’t want to tolerate her presence. Didn’t want to find common ground.
I wanted nothing.
No relation. No compromise. No ties.
She should just sign those damn papers and get the hell out of here.
Away from this house. Away from my life.
Away from me.
QATAR
The skyline of Doha, Qatar, glowed like a mirage, beautiful yet deceptive. From the towering penthouse, the world outside seemed small, insignificant. Inside, wrapped in shadows, a man stood near the glass doors, watching, waiting. This wasn’t his home, but for tonight, it was his kingdom. A measured shuffle of footsteps. His bodyguard stepped forward, voice steady.
"He’s calling."
Without acknowledgment, He took the phone,his fingers grazing the smooth surface.With a flick of his fingers, the curtains slid shut, drowning the room in darkness. The world outside ceased to exist.He reached for the small, dice-shaped object on the table, rolling it between his fingers—a habit, a silent ritual. A testament to restraint that was wearing dangerously thin.
Finally, he spoke, his voice slow, deliberate cutting through the silence like blade,
"Is she dead?"
A hesitation. A breath. Then—an answer that displeased him.
"Sir, she’s alive… but I will kill her in near future," person on the other side replied..
The dice stopped.
He exhaled, slow. Venom seeped into his voice, wrapped in mocking amusement.
"I didn’t get you out of those cases to hear this pathetic excuse. You parade around as a top criminal, but your so-called ‘danger’ is nothing more than smoke and mirrors. You disgust me."
The criminal stammered, his voice laced with anxiety.
"It’s not like that, sir. They are powerful & dangerous and I value my life."
A chuckle, dark and mocking, "That means you are of no use to me. I don’t grant freedom for free," A pause, calculated. Then, the final blow: "Get ready to go back from where you came."
Panic crackled over the line, "I haven't refused! I just tested his power! I sent my man—he followed her to her university."
A sharp scoff, "You Idiot!! She doesn’t study. She’s a workaholic.I sent you every detail—how she looks, what she does.You had one job, and you still managed to fail."
"Exactly!!I sent my man to follow her, but he mistakenly followed his sister, thinking she was the target," the criminal scrambled for redemption.
"When we were behind her, she got into a car with her brother-in-law and sister-in-law. Both were wearing identical dresses that's why my man misinterpreted."
Man’s amusement vanished, replaced with cold, simmering fury. "You and your man are incompetent fools. I don’t want excuses—I want results. Permanent ones."
A beat of silence. The criminal grasped for words, "Your intel said he’d be out of the country for a month… but he came back other day."
The man closed his eyes briefly, frustration creeping in, his fingers tightening around the dice.With a sharp inhale he said,
"Because he’s smarter than you,Idiot! And now, he’s suspicious."
A beat of silence. The criminal said nothing. He knew.
Man leaned forward, his tone soft, almost gentle, "You’re running out of time. Either she dies... or you do."
And the line went dead.
"He’s the kind of threat that doesn’t stop. And that’s exactly why she needs to die. Before he starts looking deeper. Before he starts connecting things," he muttered to himself.
Rathod Corporation
Rida stepped through the towering glass doors of Rathod Corporation, the cool rush of air–conditioning washing over her as the doors whispered shut behind her. She had come straight from Ahmedabad relieved that her father’s routine check-up had gone smoothly. But the moment she set foot inside, an unsettling tension pressed against her chest.
Her heels clicked rhythmically against the polished marble floor, a stark contrast to the frantic energy crackling around her. Employees moved in a hurried frenzy, faces taut with panic, their hushed whispers carrying a sense of impending doom.
Her pulse quickened. What was happening?
As she entered her department, chaos erupted around her. Papers scattered, files were rifled through, and her usually composed colleagues darted from desk to desk like a storm had been unleashed. Her friend barely spared her a glance, only managing a rushed power-dap before disappearing into the chaos.
Confusion swirled in Rida’s mind. She stowed her bag in the smart locker, then moved toward her friend, who was scrutinizing a report with trembling fingers.
“What’s going on?” she asked, struggling to match the urgency in the air.
Her friend exhaled sharply, her voice barely above a whisper.
"The boss will be back today” She shot Rida a knowing glance. “And you know what—the first thing they’ll demand? Our reports. If anything’s out of place, we’re finished."
Rida’s heart faltered for a beat.
The boss.
A cold shiver traced her spine but just his mention.
Prakhar Singh Rathod.
Her husband. The man who despised her. The man who had no idea she worked here—thanks to his mother’s quiet maneuvering.
Her friend’s voice cut through her spiraling thoughts, “Rida, go check your work. You’re new here, which means Sir might single you out.”
Rida barely heard the warning. It wasn’t the scrutiny of her work that made her breath hitch—it was the impending confrontation with Prakhar. Seeing him here, in his domain, where he wielded absolute power, would be nothing short of stepping onto a battlefield.
Would his dark eyes widen in shock? Or would they narrow in anger, that signature smirk curling his lips as he planned his next move?
Her stomach twisted, but she forced herself to breathe. Whatever storm awaited her, she would face it head-on.
Because this time, she wasn’t just his wife. She was an employee. An equal.
And no matter how much he hated her, she refused to be intimidated.
With her heart pounding, Rida straightened her spine and walked toward her desk, bracing for the inevitable collision of past and present when her phone buzzed..The name flashing on her screen making her lips curve into a small, genuine smile.
She stepped into the quiet corridor.She swiped to answer.
"Maa."
Her mother-in-law's voice came through, tinged with worry and gentle reprimand. "Rida, why did you go straight to the office? You should have come home first and rested.. Did you eat your breakfast?..I know you haven't..."
"Maa..Maa..Don't worry. I'll grab something from the cafeteria."
Her mother-in-law wasn't convinced so easily.There was a pause, then a softer plea.
"Promise me you'll eat something substantial."
Rida exhaled, "I promise, Maa. I'll eat Before working...Now, Happy?"
A warm chuckle came through the phone. "That's my good girl. Now go, but don't work yourself to exhaustion."
The call ended, leaving a strange warmth in Rida's chest.She slipped the phone into her pocket and made her way toward the cafeteria. As she stood in line, her gaze skimmed over the menu, her stomach finally making its protests known. A sandwich and a strong filter coffee.Warm, light, and exactly what she needed.
Sliding into a quiet seat by the window, she took a slow sip of her coffee, letting the warmth seep into her, grounding her. For a brief moment, the world outside her responsibilities didn't feel so heavy.
But the moment passed quickly.
Because whether she acknowledged it or not, she had a long day ahead—a day where she would inevitably cross paths with him. Because no matter how much she tried to hold onto it, reality always came knocking.
Her fingers brushed the rim of her coffee cup as she pushed aside the thought.
Let him think what he wanted. Let him glare, let him pretend she didn't exist. She was here to work, and she wasn't going anywhere.
With a quiet resolve settling over her, she finished her meal, straightened her blazer, and rose to her feet.
As her heels clicked against the polished floor, she disappeared into the office, ready to face the day-on her own terms.
He strode through the glass doors of Rathod Corporation, his imposing figure commanding attention. His chiseled face was set in a stern expression, eyes fixed ahead as he navigated through the lobby. The staff, accustomed to his aloof demeanor, straightened at their desk & greeted him with respectful nods, but he barely acknowledged their presence.
With swift, purposeful strides, he made his way to the elevator, his tailored suit accentuating his powerful build. The doors slid open, and he stepped inside, his eyes never leaving the floor display as he ascended to his office on the 11th floor.
As the elevator doors opened on the 11th floor, Neil fell into step beside him.
"Good morning, sir. You have a busy day ahead. Your first meeting with the marketing team is at 10 a.m., followed by a conference call with the Tokyo office at 11:30 a.m. Lunch is scheduled with a potential investor at 1 p.m.," Neil briefed him, handing over a sleek tablet with the detailed schedule.
"Ensure that all necessary files and briefings are sent to my email by 9:25 a.m. I want to review everything."
"Already taken care of, sir. The files and briefings are being sent to your email as we speak. I've also confirmed the investor's arrival time and conference room is also prepped. Should I bring you a cup of coffee before your first meeting?"
He nodded,"Remind me to review the Johnson account before the meeting with the marketing team."
"Right away, sir. I'll bring your coffee and have the Johnson account file ready on your desk.
“Good.” He didn’t stop walking. “You may leave.”
At exact 9:50 ,he emerged from his plush cabin, his commanding presence radiating an aura of superiority. His piercing gaze swept across the office floor, scanning the bustling workspace with a mix of disdain and haughty indifference.He moved to lift for heading toward the conference room when his attention zeroed in on a familiar figure.
His wife.
The woman he despised. The woman who, no matter how much distance he put between them, somehow always found a way back into his world.
She walked with purpose towards the finance office, her elegant stride and poised demeanor a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing inside Prakhar. His eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched, as a toxic mix of emotions simmered beneath his composed exterior. Frustration, anger, and resentment bubbled up, threatening to breach the carefully constructed facade of indifference.
His jaw clenching as he shut his eyes for a fraction of a second.
"What is she doing here?"
.......
Thanku For Reading.
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