The scene unfolded with Shourya and Amrutha stepping cautiously into the crowded, narrow streets of the chawl. The dim light from flickering bulbs barely illuminated the crumbling buildings, and the chatter of residents added an eerie undertone to the moment. Amrutha’s eyes darted around, unease evident in her expression.
“I hope this journalist is on our side, Shourya,” she muttered, her tone a mix of skepticism and anxiety. Her gaze lingered on the dark corners of the alleyway. “What if this is a trap?”
Shourya, ever the calm presence, smiled faintly and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, doll. Tumhare saath mein hoon. Koi tumhe trap karna toh door, dekhega bhi nahi,” he said with quiet confidence, his tone steady and reassuring.
Amrutha nodded hesitantly, taking a deep breath before stepping into the house at the given address.
Inside the House
The wooden door creaked open, revealing a dimly lit space. Dust motes floated in the air, and the faint smell of dampness lingered. As they cautiously entered, a voice called out from the stairs.
“So, you’ve finally arrived,” came the voice, laced with a strange mix of anticipation and bitterness.
Amrutha and Shourya turned towards the staircase, spotting a woman in her late twenties descending gracefully. Her sharp eyes and composed demeanor radiated a sense of purpose.
Amrutha took a step forward, her suspicion evident. “Do you know me?” she asked, her voice steady yet probing.
The woman smirked. “Amrutha Sinha… or should I say, Amrutha Khurana now?”
Amrutha’s eyes narrowed. “So, you’ve been stalking me?”
The woman’s expression darkened. “No, I’ve been stalking that b*stard Rishab Khurana,” she spat, venom dripping from her words. “He’s ruined the lives of many innocent girls, and my sister was one of them. That’s why I’m here to help you bring him down.”
Amrutha folded her arms across her chest, her skepticism growing. “That’s why you sent me the letter? How do I know I can trust you?”
The woman scoffed, her gaze hardening. “I didn’t send you any letter. Someone told me you needed my help. And trust?” She paused, her voice trembling with restrained anger. “That’s your choice. I’ve been fighting this battle alone, and I’ll continue to do so, with or without you.”
Understanding Her Agony
Shourya and Amrutha exchanged a glance, the weight of the woman’s anguish sinking in. Her pain was raw, her determination palpable. Amrutha softened slightly.
“Alright,” Amrutha said, her tone measured. “We’ll work together. But if we’re doing this, we need solid evidence.”
The woman—introducing herself as Vasudha—nodded and laid out her findings. Photographs, documents, and testimonies were spread out on a makeshift table. Shourya inspected them closely, his brow furrowed.
“These aren’t enough,” he said after a moment. “Rishab has power and money. We need something stronger if we’re going to put him behind bars.”
Amrutha sighed, frustration bubbling to the surface. “And no lawyer will dare take up our case against the Khuranas. No one has the courage to stand up to them,” she said, her voice tinged with bitterness.
Vasudha looked hesitant before speaking. “There’s one lawyer I know. She’s brilliant, but she won’t agree to fight for us.”
“Why not?” Amrutha asked, her curiosity piqued.
Vasudha hesitated. “Because every time she’s fought for justice, the victims have backed out—family pressure, societal judgment, you name it. She put her heart and soul into those cases, only to lose. It broke her spirit.”
Amrutha’s eyes hardened with determination. “I’ll talk to her. I’ll convince her. This time, I’m not backing out.”
Vasudha arched an eyebrow. “Amrutha, you do realize Rishab Khurana is your husband Rithvik Khurana’s elder brother, right? This could create problems for you later. Think carefully.”
Before Amrutha could respond, Shourya interjected firmly. “Don’t worry about Rithvik. I know my friend. He’ll never support wrong, no matter who it is. Amrutha can handle this.”
Amrutha shot him a sideways glance, muttering under her breath, “As if I care.”
After finalizing their plan with Vasudha, Shourya and Amrutha left for the Sinha mansion. As they drove through the streets, the weight of the case lingered between them.
“You’re quiet,” Shourya noted, glancing at Amrutha.
“I’m just thinking,” she replied, staring out the window. Her determination was unshaken, but deep down, she couldn’t help but wonder if this battle would come at a cost she wasn’t prepared to pay.
Shourya reached over, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “You’re stronger than you think, doll. We’ll get through this.”
Amrutha managed a small smile, her resolve hardening once more. “We will,” she whispered, more to herself than to him.
*****************
The Sinha Mansion loomed in front of them, its grand facade exuding wealth but devoid of warmth. Amrutha took a deep breath, her fingers clutching the edges of her saree nervously. Shourya glanced at her, his voice soft yet reassuring.
“Don’t worry, Amrutha. You’re not alone,” he said, giving her a comforting nod.
The large wooden doors of the mansion creaked open, revealing Dadaji, his face lighting up the moment he saw her.
“Meri bacchi!” Dadaji’s voice was filled with emotion as he spread his arms wide.
Amrutha’s heart clenched as she saw the tears in his eyes. She stepped forward and was instantly enveloped in his warm embrace. The dam of her emotions broke, and tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Dadaji,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she clung to him.
He gently stroked her hair, his voice soft with love. “How are you, my child? It feels like ages since I last saw you .”
Shourya watched the scene, a small smile playing on his lips. Seeing Amrutha so loved by Dadaji brought him a sense of peace.
Not far from them, Mr. and Mrs. Sinha stood to the side, their disinterest glaringly obvious. Mrs. Sinha twisted her lips in annoyance, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Beside her, Sameer, Amrutha’s elder brother, scrolled through his phone, barely acknowledging her presence.
“Yeh sab natak ki zarurat kya thi?” Mrs. Sinha muttered under her breath, loud enough for Dadaji to hear but not care.
Shourya noticed the tension but chose to focus on Amrutha’s happiness.
A servant approached with a thali, the soft glow of the diya illuminating Amrutha’s face as the aarti was performed. The servant stepped aside, and Dadaji took Amrutha’s hands in his.
“You’ve grown so much, meri bacchi. I prayed for this day—to see you happy, to see you loved,” he said, his voice breaking with emotion.
Amrutha smiled through her tears. “Dadaji, your blessings have always been my strength.”
Mrs. Sinha rolled her eyes, unable to bear the affection being showered on Amrutha. “Enough of this drama. I have work to do,” she snapped, turning on her heel and leaving the room.
Mr. Sinha followed, muttering under his breath, while Sameer simply shrugged and walked away.
Dadaji sighed, his joy dampened but not extinguished. “Don’t mind them, Amrutha. Their hearts are small, but mine will always have room for you.”
Amrutha nodded, holding his hand tightly.
As night fell, it was time for Amrutha to return to the Khurana Mansion. Despite knowing Rithvik would never come to fetch her, Dadaji insisted on gathering everyone in the hallway to bid her farewell.
Dadaji held her hands, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Take care of yourself, beta. Remember, no matter what happens, your Dadaji is always here for you.”
Amrutha nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “I know, Dadaji. Thank you for everything.”
But before she could leave, Mr. Sinha decided to speak, his tone condescending. “Listen, don’t trouble the Khurana family. You’re lucky to have married into such a rich family. Don’t ruin our reputation, understand?”
Amrutha’s hands clenched, but the old, submissive Amrutha was long gone. Her voice was calm but sharp.
“Yes, Mr. Sinha, they’re not like you at all. They’re rich not just in wealth but in heart and mindset. They don’t judge people by their status; they value relationships. I’m truly blessed to have them.”
Mrs. Sinha’s jealousy flared. “Of course, you’d say that. After all, you’re used to picking up things my daughter discarded. That’s why you’ve adjusted so well in their house. Don’t think of coming back here.”
Amrutha’s eyes narrowed. “In that case, I admire your daughter for choosing love over money. Unlike you, who forgave a man who betrayed his wife and child just for the sake of status. Sometimes, I wonder what you and my biological mother even saw in Mr. Sinha. Honestly, your taste is questionable.”
The venom in her words stunned everyone, especially Mrs. Sinha, who raised her hand in rage.
But before she could strike, a strong hand caught her wrist mid-air. The room fell silent, all eyes turning to the man who had stopped her—Rithvik Khurana.
His expression was cold, his sharp eyes burning with fury. His grip on Mrs. Sinha’s wrist was firm, and his voice was low but menacing. “How dare you?”
Mrs. Sinha flinched under his intense gaze.
“You think you can insult and hurt my wife in my presence?” Rithvik’s tone grew sharper, making everyone in the room freeze. “Let me make one thing clear—Amrutha is my wife now, and I will not tolerate anyone disrespecting her. Not you, not anyone.”
Mr. Sinha stepped forward, his voice trembling with anger. “Rithvik, you—”
“Stop.” Rithvik’s gaze snapped to him, silencing him instantly. “I don’t care who you are. The next time you even think of raising your voice or hand against her, you’ll regret it.”
Turning to Amrutha, his tone softened. “Let’s go.”
Amrutha looked at Dadaji, who nodded, his eyes filled with pride and relief. Without another word, Rithvik placed his hand on Amrutha’s back, guiding her out of the mansion.
As they left, the echoes of his warning lingered in the silent hallway, a reminder of the man who would stop at nothing to protect his wife.
*****************
As the black SUV glided down the road, Amrutha sat silently, staring out of the window, her mind swirling with thoughts. The soft hum of the engine filled the otherwise quiet space. Rithvik, focused on the road ahead, seemed lost in his own thoughts, but the weight of the moment wasn’t lost on either of them.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Amrutha broke the silence, her voice soft, tinged with curiosity.
“Rithvik, can I ask you something?”
He glanced at her for a brief second before nodding. “Go ahead.”
Amrutha hesitated, unsure of how to put her feelings into words. “Why did you support me like that back there? You didn’t have to. It’s not like… we’ve ever been close. You didn’t owe me that.”
The question hung in the air between them, and for a moment, Rithvik remained quiet. His fingers tightened slightly on the steering wheel as he navigated the car through the quiet streets.
Finally, he spoke, his voice steady but carrying an undeniable warmth. “Because, Amrutha… you’re my wife.”
She blinked, not expecting such a simple answer, but as the words settled in, they took on a deeper meaning.
He continued, his gaze still fixed on the road. “My wife’s dignity is my dignity. It doesn’t matter how distant we’ve been, or what’s happened in the past. I can’t let anyone disrespect you, especially not your own family.”
Amrutha’s heart skipped a beat. The words felt like a balm, soothing an ache she hadn’t known she carried. She turned her head slowly to look at him, her eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and something else—something she couldn’t quite name yet.
“But we’re not like other couples,” she whispered. “We barely even talk to each other.”
Rithvik’s expression softened, his eyes meeting hers for the briefest of moments before he refocused on the road. “Marriage isn’t just about talking, Amrutha. It’s about understanding, and protecting each other. And I made a vow to myself that I would protect you, no matter what. Even if that means standing up to your family.”
A wave of emotion hit her then—something raw, something new. She had never felt so defended, so valued. It wasn’t just the words, but the conviction behind them. Rithvik wasn’t just speaking out of obligation. He genuinely cared.
The car slowed as they neared the gates of the Khurana Mansion, but Amrutha wasn’t ready to let the moment pass. She turned fully toward him now, her voice stronger, more vulnerable than she had intended.
“Why did you do it?” she repeated, though this time, it was less of a question and more of a need to understand.
Rithvik’s jaw tightened, his eyes briefly meeting hers before he gave her a small, almost imperceptible smile. “Because you’re mine now. And no one, not even your own family, has the right to take that away from you. I will always stand by you, Amrutha. No matter what.”
His words settled in her chest like a promise, and for the first time in years, she felt the stirrings of something she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in a long time—trust.
Amrutha looked down at her hands in her lap, the warmth of his words filling her with an overwhelming sense of gratitude, but also something deeper—a connection, a bond that had been growing between them, whether she had been willing to admit it or not.
As they drove through the gates of the mansion, Amrutha felt a shift inside her. She wasn’t just overwhelmed with emotion. There was something else, something she had been denying for a while. She felt cared for, protected, and perhaps for the first time in her life, truly valued.
“Thank you, Rithvik,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.
He didn’t respond immediately, but she saw the briefest hint of something soft in his eyes before he turned his attention back to the road.
“You don’t need to thank me, Amrutha,” he said, his voice low but reassuring. “I’m just doing what any husband should do.”
As they pulled up to the mansion, Amrutha realized that the uncertainty that had once defined her relationship with Rithvik was slowly being replaced by something else—something real. And for the first time, she felt a little less alone in this marriage, and a little more certain about what lay ahead.
When the car came to a stop, Amrutha took a deep breath, her heart racing as the gates of the Khurana Mansion opened in front of them. She didn’t know what the future would hold, but she knew that Rithvik was no longer just her husband in name. He was someone who would stand by her, and for now, that was all that mattered.
A few days had passed, each one filled with challenges and quiet victories for Amrutha. Her relentless pursuit of justice brought her closer to her goals, but the road was far from easy. Lawyer Abha Ji, an experienced and highly reputed figure known for her social work and impeccable legal record, had refused to take up Amrutha’s case. Yet, Amrutha’s spirit remained unshaken.
Sitting in her room with a notebook full of scribbled plans, Amrutha stared at her phone, willing it to ring with good news. Abha Ji’s denial echoed in her mind, but it only strengthened her resolve. “If she doesn’t help me, I’ll find another way,” she thought, gripping her pen tightly.
Meanwhile, her relationship with Rithvik had evolved. The awkward silence that once lingered between them had been replaced by a comforting companionship. They were no longer strangers but friends who found solace in each other’s presence.
Amrutha had always guarded her trust fiercely, especially after that fateful night that turned her world upside down. But Rithvik had slowly become an exception. While she kept her deepest secrets locked away, she found herself leaning on him for support in ways she never expected. He was her quiet pillar, someone who didn’t pry but simply stood by her, offering strength without conditions.
Still, Amrutha was determined to fight her battles alone. She had vowed not to share the truth about Rishab—not with Rithvik, not with anyone. This was her war to win.
For Rithvik, the dynamic between them was entirely different. He had never intended to let anyone close to his heart after Roshini’s betrayal. His life had been a carefully constructed wall of indifference, but Amrutha had broken through without even trying.
She was everything he hadn’t expected: compassionate, resilient, and selfless. She treated his parents like her own, bonded with his siblings like a sister, and brought warmth to the mansion with her mere presence. Even the servants adored her, for she forgave their mistakes with kindness instead of anger.
Unknowingly, Amrutha was winning Rithvik’s heart every day.
But he held his feelings back, the reasons weighing heavily on his mind. Their age gap haunted him—he was 34, and she was barely 22. She deserved a bright future, free from the burdens of their marriage. And above all, he was certain she would never love him back. Loving her silently was his only choice.
While Amrutha was building her life, Rishab’s was falling apart.
Her determination had exposed the scams he had orchestrated at work. His financial accounts were frozen, his illicit affairs brought to light before his family. With every revelation, his life grew more miserable. Amrutha’s presence was a constant reminder of his sins, and her unwavering fight made it clear that she would not stop until he faced justice.
Rishab’s downfall was inevitable, but for Amrutha, this wasn’t enough. She didn’t just want to ruin his life; she wanted the world to know the truth. She wanted him behind bars, paying for every moment of pain he had caused her.
“Five years of suffering,” she whispered to herself, staring out of the window one evening. “I’ll make him pay for every single second of it—with interest.”
***********”*” ”
In the past few days, an unknown person had been helping Amrutha at every critical moment.
Whether it was uncovering Rishab’s illegal business dealings or exposing his numerous affairs, this mysterious individual had been providing her with precise and invaluable assistance. Every piece of evidence arrived exactly when she needed it, almost as if someone was closely monitoring her battle for justice.
Amrutha tried her best to figure out who this person was and why they were so determined to help her. She followed every clue, analyzed every message, and questioned every possibility, but despite her efforts, she couldn’t uncover their identity.
The mystery only deepened, leaving Amrutha both intrigued and unsettled. Who was this shadowy savior, and what was their true motive?
*******************
Lawyer Abha Ji’s Office
A large wooden desk stood between them. The air inside the office was thick with unsaid words, and the dim lighting only added to the weight of the moment. Stacks of legal files lined the shelves, whispering tales of past cases, each filled with struggles and battles fought in the court of law.
Seated on opposite sides of the table, Amrutha and Vasudha exchanged a glance before turning their attention to Lawyer Abha Ji, a woman known for her sharp intellect and unwavering principles. Her piercing gaze rested on Amrutha as she folded her hands over a thick legal file.
“So, Amrutha, I am ready to help you,” Abha Ji stated firmly, her voice devoid of any unnecessary sympathy. “But for that, you need to tell me every single thing that happened on that day.”
The directness of her words made Amrutha shift slightly in her chair. Her fingers clutched the fabric of her dupatta as she tried to gather her thoughts.
“But, ma’am… can I ask why?” Amrutha hesitated, her voice laced with uncertainty. “I mean… earlier, you refused to even give me an appointment. And now, suddenly, you’re willing to help me? Why this change of heart?”
A small, knowing smile played at the corners of Abha Ji’s lips as she leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on the desk.
Fair question,” she admitted. “Frankly speaking, I had no interest in your case before. But someone recommended it to me. Someone who believes you need justice. That is the only reason I have agreed to take this up. Now, tell me everything. What exactly happened that night?”
For a moment, Amrutha just stared at the lawyer. Someone had recommended her case? She didn’t need to ask who—it had to be her well-wisher, the only person who still cared enough to fight for her when the world turned away. A wave of emotions washed over her—gratitude, relief, and an undeniable ache in her chest.
She gave a small nod, accepting the situation. She had no other choice.
Just as she parted her lips to speak, Abha Ji’s phone buzzed on the table.
The lawyer picked it up and glanced at the screen before answering.
The deep voice from the other end was firm, almost demanding.
“Ma’am, I want to know what happened that night. Every damn detail.”
The intensity in the voice made Vasudha glance at Amrutha, silently questioning if she recognized the caller. Amrutha felt her pulse quicken. She knew who it was.
Abha Ji, however, remained composed. Without a word, she tapped the screen, locked the phone, and set it down on the desk.
“You heard him,” she said, looking at Amrutha. “Now, start from the beginning.”
The silence in the room stretched as Amrutha took a deep breath.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she clenched them together, her mind unwillingly pulling her back to that night—the night that changed everything.
Her voice was steady but her heart wasn’t.
And so, she began.
*******************
Five Years Ago
The Sinha Mansion was draped in grandeur, shimmering under the golden fairy lights, celebrating the grand wedding of Roshni Sinha—the beloved eldest daughter of the family. The air was thick with the scent of fresh flowers, laughter, and the joyful chimes of wedding bells. It was a moment of prestige for the Sinha family, as their daughter was set to marry Rithvik Khurana, the heir to the powerful Khurana empire.
But not everyone belonged in this celebration.
Seventeen-year-old Amrutha stood at the mansion’s threshold, her heart beating with quiet hope. Illegitimate. A word that followed her like a shadow. A stain on the otherwise perfect family portrait of the Sinhas. Her stepmother never acknowledged her as family, and the rest followed suit.
Yet today, something changed.
For the first time, Mrs. Sinha handed her a dress and some jewelry, her cold voice laced with something that almost sounded like acceptance. Amrutha’s heart leaped—was this the moment she would finally belong?
She clutched the dress as if it were a blessing and hurried to get ready.
Excitement bubbled inside her as she stepped into the wedding hall, her new attire draped around her like a dream. But that dream shattered the moment whispers filled the room, followed by hushed laughter.
She looked around, confused. Then, she saw it—the servants, all dressed in the same fabric, the same pattern.
Her heart dropped.
She wasn’t gifted a dress as a family member. She was given a uniform—a silent declaration that she was nothing more than a servant.
Pain twisted inside her, but she swallowed it down, refusing to let them see her break.
But someone did.
“Amrutha, yeh sab mat sehna.” A firm voice pulled her from her despair. She turned to see Shourya, her only true ally in the Sinha household, standing beside Dada Ji.
Before she could react, Shourya placed a designer lehenga and real gold jewelry in her hands.
“You belong here, Amrutha. Not as a servant, but as family.” His words carried a conviction she had never heard from anyone before.
Tears threatened to spill, but she blinked them away. She tried to refuse, but under Shourya and Dada Ji’s insistence, she accepted.
And when she returned to the wedding in that stunning lehenga, heads turned. Every whisper turned into stunned silence.
Even her stepmother’s eyes burned with jealousy, but for once—she was powerless to do anything.
Among the sea of admiring gazes, one pair of eyes held something far more sinister.
Rishab.
His gaze devoured her, lingering on the gentle curve of her waist, the way the fabric clung to her skin. Desire twisted inside him—dark, inhuman.
To him, women were objects. Their purpose? To serve his pleasure.
And tonight, he had decided—Amrutha would be his.
As the night unfolded, he waited.
The moment she stepped away from the crowd, he followed.
A hand gripped her wrist.
“Kaha ja rahi ho, Amrutha?” His voice was smooth, too smooth.
She turned, startled. Rishab stood too close, his breath hot against her skin.
She tried to pull away, but he was stronger.
His fingers trailed down her arm, an invasion that sent shivers of disgust crawling down her spine.
And then—she slapped him. Hard.
The sound echoed.
His friends, who had been laughing moments ago, fell into stunned silence.
Rishab staggered back, his ego bruised, his anger ignited.
Without warning, he grabbed her hair, yanking her close, his grip like iron.
She struggled, fear slicing through her like a blade, but before she could scream—his hand clamped over her mouth.
“Galti ki hai, ab saza bhi milegi,” he hissed.
His friends joined him, their smirks turning into something monstrous.
And before anyone could notice—they dragged her away.
Somewhere along the drive to their farmhouse, Amrutha found her chance.
With sheer desperation, she kicked open the car door and threw herself out, hitting the ground hard.
Pain shot through her, but she pushed forward, running into the dense forest, her heart pounding like a war drum.
The night swallowed her, but so did the sound of footsteps chasing her.
And then—they caught her.
The nightmare she had feared became her reality.
They tore her apart.
When dawn broke, she lay in the dirt—broken, bruised, and barely breathing.
A living corpse.
******************
Present
Amrutha’s voice cracked as she reached the end of her story.
Her body shook, her hands gripping her arms as if trying to hold herself together.
Vasudha, unable to hold back any longer, threw her arms around Amrutha, sobbing uncontrollably.
“Amrutha… oh god… I’m so sorry…”
Tears streamed down both their faces, their grief raw and suffocating.
Even Lawyer Abha Ji, known for her steel heart, had unshed tears glistening in her eyes.
But somewhere else—anger burned hotter than grief.
The call had long gone silent.
The man on the other end had heard every word.
His knuckles turned white as he clenched his fists. His eyes darkened, the fury inside him no longer containable.
And then—with one brutal strike, he slammed his fist into the glass table in front of him.
The glass shattered into countless pieces, sharp shards slicing into his skin.
Blood dripped from his hand—but he didn’t even flinch.
His rage had drowned out everything else
” Rishab khurana” his voice eerity calm , the kind of calm that precedes a srom
” I will destroy you ”
********************
The city lights faded in the rearview mirror as Amrutha drove down the deserted highway. The air outside was thick with an unsettling silence, interrupted only by the occasional distant howl of the wind.
She had just dropped Vasuda near her home after their intense conversation with Abha ji. Though the meeting had left her emotionally drained, she had no time to dwell on it—she had other things to focus on.
The road ahead stretched into darkness, but her mind was still stuck in the past. The scars of what had happened to her, the betrayal, the pain—it never really left her.
She sighed and loosened her grip on the steering wheel.
Just then, her pulse quickened.
She noticed the glint of headlights behind her, growing closer.
At first, she dismissed it.
It’s just another vehicle on the highway.
But when the lights split into multiple pairs, and the unmistakable hum of motorcycles roared behind her, alarm bells rang in her head.
She stole a glance at the rearview mirror.
Three… no, four bikers. All moving in perfect sync.
Her stomach twisted. Not a coincidence.
She immediately grabbed her phone and dialed the one person she could trust blindly.
“Shourya…” she exhaled, trying to keep her voice steady.
“Amrutha? What happened?” came his quick response.
She tightened her hold on the phone, eyes darting between the road and the bikers closing in.
“Someone is following me… I think they’re Rishab’s men.”
The urgency in her tone made Shourya curse under his breath.
“Where are you?” he asked.
But before she could answer—BAM!
A biker rammed into her car from the side.
The force jolted her, and her phone slipped from her grip, falling onto the car floor.
“Shit!” she cursed, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the steering wheel.
She slammed her foot on the accelerator, forcing the car forward at full speed.
The engine roared as she zigzagged between lanes, trying to shake them off. But the bikers were relentless.
One of them rode up beside her window, motioning for her to stop.
She refused.
Her breath hitched as another biker pulled out something from his pocket—a gun.
Her heart pounded.
The biker aimed.
And just when she thought the worst was about to happen—
A black motorcycle sped in from the opposite direction, skidding between her car and the gunman.
Tyres screeched. Dust flew.
The sudden interference shocked everyone—including Amrutha.
The biker with the gun hesitated, his aim faltering.
For a moment, the night stood still.
And then, she saw him , who is infront of her
Amrutha’s lips curled into a knowing smile.
She recognized that stance. That attitude.
She stepped out of the car, brushing imaginary dust off her sleeves, and leaned casually against the vehicle.
The bikers, now off their bikes, removed their helmets—revealing themselves to be none other than her own staff.
Her smirk widened.
“So it’s you, Mr. Rithvik Khurana.”
Her tone was laced with amusement and a hint of challenge.
Rithvik Khurana—the so-called unknown well-wisher.
He didn’t react, just flicked his cigar lighter, lighting the end of a cigarette with deliberate slowness.
Amrutha folded her arms.
“Oops, my mistake… I mean, the great ‘unknown well-wisher’ who’s been playing guardian angel behind my back.”
Rithvik took a slow drag before exhaling, his sharp gaze piercing through the smoke.
Before he could respond, another set of headlights appeared—Shourya had arrived.
The moment he stepped out of his car, his eyes flickered between Amrutha and Rithvik.
And just like that, the truth could no longer be hidden.
Amrutha exhaled sharply.
“Tsk tsk… so you really thought I wouldn’t find out?” she mocked. “That my own brother and my so-called secret protector were working behind my back?”
Shourya rubbed the back of his neck, knowing there was no escape now.
He sighed and finally admitted, “Yes, doll. You’re right. The person who’s been protecting you… is none other than your husband, Rithvik Khurana.”
Amrutha’s smirk vanished.
Silence.
She turned back to Rithvik. He remained calm, unaffected by her burning gaze.
“Tum hamesha poochti thi na?” Shourya continued. “Kaun hai woh insaan jo tumhe uss raat hospital tumhe hospital le gaya tha?”
He took a step closer.
“Woh koi aur nahi, Rithvik hi tha.”
Amrutha’s heart skipped a beat.
She turned back to Rithvik, but he had already turned away, taking another slow drag from his cigarette.
He didn’t deny it.
Didn’t say a single word.
He didn’t need to.
The truth was standing right in front of her.
Another twist in Amrutha’s life.
To be continued…
