The night air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of blooming jasmine from the gardens surrounding Atharva’s mansion. Inside, the dining room was bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, the silence between Atharva and Ruhani thick with unspoken tension. She had prepared his favorite meal, her hands trembling as she served him. For weeks, she had avoided his gaze, her heart pounding every time he entered the room. But tonight, something was different. She had decided to confront him, to ask the question that had been gnawing at her since she first realized the depth of his obsession.

After they finished eating, Atharva stood abruptly, his sharp features illuminated by the flickering flames. “Come,” he commanded, his voice low and commanding. Ruhani hesitated, her fingers clutching the edge of the table. She knew better than to refuse him, yet the fear in her chest warred with the curiosity that had driven her to this moment. She followed him outside, the cool night air brushing against her skin as they walked in silence toward the manicured gardens.