The moon hung high and indifferent over the haveli that night, casting the sprawling estate into sharp contrasts of shadow and silver light. The day’s drama with Priya had left Shashwat emotionally drained but physically restless. The guilt of his earlier cruelty to Rani still gnawed at him, a dull ache beneath the surface of his demanding exterior.

He found Rani waiting for him in his private chamber, dressed in a simple, dark cotton kurta that barely concealed the gentle curve of her five-month-old belly. The knowledge of the life growing inside her, a secret they carried together, made his chest tighten with a fierce, protective tenderness—a feeling that somehow warred with his need for raw submission.