A silent billionaire.
A woman trained to kill.
When power marries danger, love turns lethal.
The morning in my room at Rathor Mansion had been quiet for almost a month now, ever since Trishika had left the mansion to stay with her parents until her recovery.
She had never disturbed me or woken me up in the morning, but somehow, she still used to do something that unknowingly woke me.
The beautiful tinkling of her anklets and the jingling of her bangles used to wake me every morning. She could never stay in one place for more than a few minutes, always moving around the room, looking for something, doing something, or simply making enough noise to remind me that I wasn't alone.
After our marriage, somehow, those sounds had become my alarm. And now, without them, this room felt exactly the way it had before she entered my life.
It had been twenty-nine days since I had last seen my wife.
Twenty-nine days, to be exact. I knew because I had counted them.
I had never been the kind of man who counted days waiting for someone. I had spent most of my life making people wait for me instead.
Meetings, negotiations, agreements, deals-everything happened according to my time.
Yet somehow, the woman who had been avoiding me for nearly a month had turned time into something I noticed.
I had spent the last several days dividing my time between the office and visits to Trishika's parents' house.
Every second day, I went there.
Sometimes I stayed for ten minutes. Sometimes fifteen. I never stayed longer than necessary because I knew she didn't want to see me. I would speak to her parents, ask about her recovery, leave whatever I had brought for her, and leave without knocking on her door.
She had never come out. Not once.
She hadn't answered my calls either. Neither had she replied to a single message.
At first, I had been irritated, but that irritation slowly turned into concern. Eventually, I stopped expecting anything from her.
Every second day, she found a reason not to see me. Sometimes she was sleeping. Sometimes she wasn't feeling well. Sometimes her mother simply told me she needed more rest.
I knew what she was doing.
She was avoiding me. And I couldn't blame her.
Whatever had happened to her that day in the park had affected her more deeply than anyone realized. I had seen the way she had broken down. The fear in her eyes, the trembling of her hands, the way she had struggled to breathe.
Trishika wasn't someone who showed weakness.
She hid pain behind silence, anger, sarcasm, and that irritatingly stubborn expression she wore whenever she wanted everyone to believe she was fine.
I could have walked into her room and demanded to see her. I could have reminded her that she was my wife and that I had every right to know what was happening to her.
But I hadn't. Because somewhere along the way, I had stopped wanting to be someone she needed to escape from.
After all, losing a mother and a sister wasn't something a person simply recovered from.
So I hadn't pushed.
Still, every time I left without seeing her, something inside me felt heavier. I wanted to know how she was doing from her own mouth. I genuinely wanted to see her. See her smile again.
And perhaps because I had begun to understand that I wasn't the only one keeping secrets in this marriage.
Anyway, I made my way to the office and spent the rest of the morning moving from one meeting to another, discussing deals, signing agreements, and finalizing plans for another expansion of Rathor Group.
By noon, one more successful deal was secured.
Another step forward.
Another expansion.
Rathor Group was growing exactly the way I had planned.
Business was going well. Yet somehow, none of it was enough to keep my mind from wandering back to her.
How much longer could I pretend that watching her suffer didn't hurt me?
And how much longer was I supposed to keep my own secret from her?
She had every right to know. I knew that. But the right moment hadn't arrived yet, and I didn't even know when it would. All I knew was that I couldn't keep it from her forever.
By evening, I had made my decision. I was going to bring my wife home-not because she had to return, but because I wanted her beside me again.
Suddenly, my phone rang.
I glanced at the screen, saw her father's name, and answered immediately.
I heard his voice on the other side, and something inside me became alert before he had even finished his first sentence.
He told me that Trishika had decided to return to the Rathor Mansion today.
I straightened in my chair.
"I'll come to pick her up," I said.
His answer came almost immediately-she had refused.
I frowned.
"She said that?"
He chuckled softly before telling me that she had specifically said she didn't need me to come and that he would drop her himself.
I didn't argue with him. What could I say?
If she didn't want me there, forcing myself into the situation would only make things worse.
I ended the call and made my way to the mansion before she reached there.
My family was already waiting.
The moment I walked through the main entrance, my mother looked at me knowingly, but she didn't say anything. She didn't need to. Everyone knew why I had come early.
She was coming home. My wife was coming back after a month.
I stood near the entrance with my hands in my pockets, pretending I wasn't waiting.
Suddenly, I heard a car approaching outside. My eyes immediately moved toward the gates.
The car entered the driveway and came to a halt. The passenger door opened, and she stepped out.
I hadn't realized how much I had missed seeing her until that moment.
She looked thinner.
Much thinner than I remembered.
Her face had lost some of its softness, and faint shadows rested beneath her eyes. But there was something different about her too.
She looked steadier. Calmer.
Her shoulders weren't as tense as they had been the last time I had seen her.
She was wearing a white ethnic tunic covered with tiny red flowers and dark-blue flared jeans. Her hair fell loosely around her shoulders.
My father-in-law stepped out of the car and walked around to her side. Trishika said something to him, and he smiled before placing a hand affectionately on her head.
Then she looked toward the mansion. Her eyes moved across the entrance. Across my family. And finally, they found mine.
Everything around me seemed to disappear for one brief second.
She froze. So did I.
Her eyes stayed on mine for only a few seconds before she looked away.
Something tightened inside my chest. She didn't want to face me. But why?
Before I could move, my mother reached her and pulled her into a tight embrace.
"Welcome home, beta."
Trishika smiled, and I watched my mother's face soften with relief.
My aunts followed immediately, touching Trishika's cheek and complaining that she had become too thin. Radhika and Ankita joined in with some sarcastic remark about needing to feed her before she disappeared completely.
And for the first time in a month, I heard Trishika laugh.
That sound hit me harder than it should have.
Her laugh.
I hadn't heard it in twenty-nine days. I hadn't realized how much I had missed her voice until I heard that small laugh.
My family surrounded her, asking questions, touching her arms, checking her face, welcoming her as though she had returned from a long journey instead of spending a month at her parents' house.
I stayed where I was.
Watching.
She seemed uncomfortable with so much attention, but she didn't retreat. She answered them, smiled at them, and allowed them to fuss over her.
Then her eyes moved toward me again. This time, she didn't immediately look away.
I took one step forward.
She stiffened slightly.
I stopped. I wasn't going to make her uncomfortable.
"Welcome back," I said quietly.
Her lips parted, but for a second, no sound came out. Then, softly-almost too softly for anyone else to hear-she said,
"Thank you."
Two words. That was all. But after a month of silence, hearing her voice felt like something I hadn't realized I had been waiting for.
I nodded once and stepped back, giving her the space she still seemed to need.
The mansion felt different with her in it. It was ridiculous. Nothing had changed-the same walls, the same furniture, the same people, the same servants moving through the corridors.
Yet somehow, the entire house felt alive again.
By evening, everyone had gathered around the dining table.
Trishika sat between my mother and Radhika, surrounded by my family as they fussed over her.
I sat across from her, quietly watching.
I didn't need anything more tonight. She was home, and for now, that was enough.
By the time dinner was over, I had barely exchanged three sentences with Trishika.
Not because I hadn't tried.
She was behaving strangely-only with me.
Every time I walked toward her, she somehow found a reason to leave. When my mother asked her to sit with us, she stayed until I sat beside her. The moment I did, she excused herself and went upstairs.
When I came upstairs, she suddenly remembered something she needed from our room.
She avoided me with such careful precision that I almost had to admire the effort.
I had spent a month without seeing her, and now that she was finally home, she was behaving as though my presence was some inconvenience she needed to manage.
I didn't stop her. Not once.
If she wanted distance, I would give it to her.
But why was she only avoiding me?
Before she left for her parents' house, everything between us had been fine. We had been happy together.
Then, suddenly, she had changed. She wasn't this distant with my family. She wasn't angry with them.
It was only me. And I had no idea what I had done.
Finally, I found her standing near the wardrobe, arranging clothes that didn't need arranging. Her suitcase was open on the glass table, and she was folding the same black dress for what looked like the third time.
I leaned against the doorframe and watched her for a moment.
She knew I was there, but she didn't turn around.
I walked inside and closed the door behind me. The soft click immediately changed the atmosphere of the room.
Trishika's hands slowed, but she continued folding the dress.
"You don't have to unpack everything tonight," I said.
"I know."
Her answer was short.
I moved toward the sofa and removed my watch.
"You must be tired."
"I'm fine."
Two words. Again.
I placed the watch on the side table and looked at her reflection in the mirror.
"You keep saying only two words. Well, I suppose that's all I deserve. A bare-minimum answer."
Her hands stopped. For a moment, she stared at herself in the mirror before finally looking at me through it.
"Well, I'm sorry. I forgot that in just one month, Ranbir Singh Rathor doesn't wait for anyone. He makes others wait. He forces others. Accuses others. Creates trouble for others. Snatches their happiness away."
I didn't respond. Every word struck my heart like an arrow.
My mouth opened, but for a moment, no sound came out.
"What happened, Trishika?"
She turned away and continued arranging her clothes.
I could have walked toward her, but I didn't. Instead, I loosened the buttons of my cuffs and waited.
Something was bothering her. I could feel it. She had been carrying it since she entered the mansion. Perhaps even before that. And whatever it was, she wasn't ready to say it.
So I gave her silence, still waiting.
For several minutes, the only sounds in the room were the faint rustle of clothes and the soft movement of her bangles.
Then she suddenly closed the suitcase. She kept her hands on the handle, her head lowered.
"How long were you planning to pretend nothing happened?" she asked.
My eyes narrowed slightly.
"What do you mean? What happened?"
She gave a humorless laugh and finally turned toward me. She took a breath, as though she had been holding those words inside for far too long.
"You act like nothing happened. You disappear at night, come back whenever you want, attend private meetings, refuse to tell me where you've been, and I never questioned you. Not once."
I remained silent.
She walked toward the center of the room, her eyes fixed on mine.
"Do you remember when we got married?"
Of course I remembered. I remembered every second of it.
She continued before I could answer.
"I didn't want that marriage. You know that. I made it very clear from the beginning, but I still tried. I tried to make this work. I accepted your family. I adjusted to your life. I gave you privacy because I thought you deserved it. You had your meetings, your business, your secrets. I never demanded explanations."
Her voice had begun to shake, revealing something much more painful underneath it.
"But what did I get?" she asked. "A husband who barely spoke to me. A husband who disappeared at night. A husband who could be in the same house as me and still feel a thousand miles away."
I watched her carefully.
She had been waiting to say this. Maybe for weeks. Maybe longer.
"I never asked you where you went," she continued. "I never asked who you met. I never went through your phone. I never questioned your privacy because I trusted you."
The last sentence landed differently.
I could hear the hurt beneath it. Then she looked directly into my eyes.
"But maybe I was stupid to trust you."
My jaw tightened.
"Trishika-"
"No." She shook her head. "Let me finish."
I stopped.
She stepped closer.
"Because there's something I can't ignore anymore."
I said nothing.
Her eyes hardened.
"You come home smelling like another woman's perfume."
For one brief second, something inside me went completely still. Not because I had been caught. I was guilty. But because I understood exactly what she was doing.
She wasn't asking me a question. She was provoking me. Testing me. Trying to make me react. And suddenly, the entire conversation became much more interesting.
She shouldn't be asking questions about this. Because the answer would shock her-and hurt her more than she could ever imagine.
She folded her arms across her chest.
"You disappear at night. You come home smelling like another woman's perfume. Your shirt has a lipstick mark. And I'm supposed to believe there's nothing going on?"
Her eyes watched me far too carefully.
I remained completely still. Because I knew Trishika. Or at least, I knew enough about her to understand that when she wanted information, she didn't always ask for it directly.
She watched people. She provoked them. She created pressure and waited for the truth to escape through their reactions.
She was doing exactly that with me now. And I wasn't going to give her what she wanted.
Her eyes narrowed when I didn't answer.
"Nothing to say?"
I slowly walked toward her.
She didn't move.
"You've already decided what you think," I said calmly.
Her eyebrows pulled together. "I asked you a question."
"And I heard it."
"Then answer."
I stopped a few feet away from her.
"You want me to answer what you actually asked, or what you're really trying to find out?"
Her expression changed. Only slightly.
"What does that mean?"
"It means you aren't asking whether there's another woman," I said. "You never once asked me if I was cheating."
Her eyes flickered.
I continued, my voice remaining calm.
"You're not interested in the perfume. Or the lipstick."
Her jaw tightened.
"You want to know why I disappear at night. Where I go. Who I meet. What I'm doing when I'm not with you."
I tilted my head slightly.
"That's the question you actually want answered, isn't it?"
"The real reason behind all these questions is that you want to know something about my business, isn't it?" I said, my voice quieter now. "That's why you were investigating my office. My library. Looking for something behind my back."
Her expression tightened.
"Or maybe..." I took a slow breath. "Maybe you really just want to know whether I'm having an affair."
She didn't answer.
I held her gaze. "Either way, I'll give you your answer."
Her eyes flashed with anger, as though I had seen through what she was trying so carefully not to admit.
"Then answer me now."
"Right now, I can't tell you everything."
"Then what exactly am I supposed to do, Ranbir? Just stand here and trust you while you keep hiding things from me?"
"I'm asking you to give me a little more time."
Her voice cracked. "You don't know what it feels like to live beside someone who is constantly keeping parts of himself away from you."
I went silent.
"You want time?" she continued. "Fine. Take it. But don't expect me to keep pretending I'm not noticing what you're doing."
"I'm not asking you to pretend. Just give me a few more days." My voice softened. "You've been preparing yourself for days to ask me all of this. Give me a few days too, to answer you properly. Let me prove myself before you decide what kind of man I am."
She stared at me, her eyes filled with anger and hurt.
"Take your time," she said bitterly. "But stop keeping your eyes on me behind my back. Stop going through my things. Stop interfering in my life."
Her words hit harder than I expected.
I knew exactly what she meant.
I had gone to her studio without her knowledge, and in a single visit, I had discovered far more than she had intended to reveal. I had seen things she had forgotten to hide.
I knew I had crossed a line. And I had no intention of crossing it again.
I lowered my gaze for a moment before looking back at her.
"I understand. I'm sorry," I said finally.
I left the bedroom without saying another word.
I didn't know whether Trishika needed space or whether I needed it more, but the moment I stepped into the corridor, her words followed me.
I loosened the collar of my shirt and walked toward the private library. I pushed open the door and switched on the lamp near the desk.
My eyes immediately went to the far corner.
Five old romance novels Kavya had given me years ago. Five books, five dried roses, and several handwritten notes.
I picked up one of them, my fingers brushing over the faded rose pressed between its pages.
That rose was from the bouquet I had once gifted her.
She had returned it to me because she knew the truth I hadn't wanted to admit-that when I said the word love, it felt hollow coming from me. To her, my gift meant nothing because I didn't understand what love really was.
So she had given the roses back.
She understood what love was, even when I didn't.
Eleven years had passed, yet I had never thrown any of it away. I had told myself I had moved on, that Kavya belonged to the past.
But standing there, I realized I had never truly let go. I had simply locked those memories away. And then Trishika had walked into my life.
Sometimes, the resemblance between them was almost frightening.
The same green eyes. Almost the same height. Similar skin tone. The same long, wavy brown hair. Even some of their expressions and the stubborn way they refused to lose an argument.
At times, looking at Trishika felt like looking at a love from my past. And that was another reason I had kept my distance.
I was afraid. Afraid that I would lose her too, the way I had lost Kavya. But tonight, I finally understood what my distance must have looked like to Trishika.
I thought about the way she had looked at me when she asked if there was another woman.
She had looked hurt.
For the first time, I wondered how many times she had waited for me to come home and pretended not to care. She had tried to make a place for herself in my life. And I had given her very little reason to believe she had one.
I placed the book back carefully.
I wasn't going to tell her everything. Some secrets still had to remain hidden until the right time came to disclose them. But perhaps I could stop making her feel like she didn't belong in my life.
I left the mansion shortly after midnight, but before that, I checked on her. She was sleeping peacefully.
The drive to the farmhouse took nearly an hour. By the time I arrived, Kartik, Daksh, and Reyansh were already waiting inside.
Kartik was standing near the long wooden table, studying a file, while Daksh leaned against the edge of it with his arms folded. Reyansh was sitting in one of the chairs, scrolling through his phone. The moment I entered, all three looked up.
"You took your time," Kartik remarked.
"I had something to deal with."
I walked toward the table and took the file Daksh pushed toward me.
"The shipment?" I asked.
"Confirmed," he said. "Everything is still on schedule."
I opened the file and scanned the information.
Kartik nodded. "The shipment will arrive after ten days. I have a few suggestions, and we also have ten days to make a more effective plan."
Reyansh finally pushed himself away from the table. "When should we tell Velvet Viper to join us?"
"Not now. We'll tell her a day before the shipment arrives and ask her once again whether her decision to help us is still on the table," I continued. "Right now, we'll make our own private plans because we can't trust that woman."
Ten days was enough time to prepare the route, secure the shipment, increase surveillance, and make sure that if that mysterious assassin came for it, she wouldn't disappear again. This time, we had to capture her.
"Daksh, send a message to Valentino's secretary that I want to meet Valentino. I have a very important question to ask him, and I want to ask it face-to-face. That way, he won't have any chance to lie or evade my question," I said with a smile.
I had captured a traitor, and I wanted to know how long he had been inside our system, quietly poisoning it from within.
Because now, it was a matter of survival.
I had to find that mole before they infected everything I had built-or they would eventually destroy me from the inside.
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