Episode 7- A Dangerous Shift
794 Words
The drive back from the gala was different. The silence between them was no longer cold; it was charged with an electric tension. Nisha stared down at the silk handkerchief Reyansh had given her, her mind replaying the absolute fury in his eyes when Arnav had raised his hand against her.
She turned her head to look at him. He was staring out the window, his jaw clenched, the passing streetlights casting sharp shadows across his flawless silhouette.
"Why did you do that?" Nisha asked softly, breaking the silence. "Our contract says no interference in personal lives. You didn't have to break his nose for me."
Reyansh didn't turn around immediately. When he finally did, his piercing dark eyes locked onto hers, heavy and intense.
"He didn't just insult you, Nisha. He insulted my choice," Reyansh said, his voice a low baritone that vibrated through the quiet car. "Nobody touches what belongs to me. Even if it's just for a year."
Nisha’s heart skipped a beat. What belongs to me. The words felt dangerously sweet, a slippery slope she knew she shouldn't slide down. She forced her corporate mask back on. "Well, your timing was perfect. The look on his face will sustain me for a month."
Reyansh let out a rare, low chuckle. "You really are a bloodthirsty little creature, aren't you?"
"Only to those who deserve it," she whispered.
The next morning, the aftermath of the gala hit the front pages. Arnav’s bleeding face was plastered everywhere, alongside headlines detailing the sudden bankruptcy of the Arnav Group. The banks had officially frozen their accounts, and their investors were fleeing like rats from a sinking ship.
Inside a dingy, cheap motel room on the outskirts of the city, Arnav slammed his fist against a wooden table, wincing as his broken nose throbbed with pain.
"We are completely finished, Arnav!" Riya paced the small room, her hair messy and her eyes wide with frantic panic. "The mansion is being seized. Dad has cut us off completely because he's terrified of Reyansh. We have nothing!"
Arnav looked up, his face twisted in a hideous, maniacal grin. "No... we still have one move left. Nisha thinks she’s untouchable now that she’s sleeping with Malhotra. But she’s forgetting one thing—I know her weaknesses."
Riya stopped pacing, her eyes narrowing. "What do you mean?"
"She still cares about her father's old legacy," Arnav hissed, pulling out a burner phone. "We can't touch her while she's surrounded by Malhotra's guards. But we can lure her out. If we kidnap her or threaten to burn down the old Mansoori textile mill—the one her mother built—she will come running alone. And once we have her, we make her sign over everything. If Malhotra tries to interfere... we make sure Nisha doesn't survive to see the contract end."
Riya smiled, a cruel, venomous expression mirroring his. "Do it."
Back at the Malhotra Mansion, Nisha was in the study, reviewing some legal documents, when a strange text message arrived on her phone from an unknown number.
It was a live video feed of the old Mansoori textile mill—the place where her late mother’s memories rested. The footage showed canisters of gasoline lined up against the wooden walls, with a timer ticking down on a digital clock.
A text followed:
"You have thirty minutes to come to the old mill alone, Nisha. If I see a single Malhotra security guard, I press detonate and your mother’s legacy burns to ashes. Let's see if your billionaire husband can save a ghost."
Nisha’s breathing turned shallow. Her hands shook with a volatile mix of grief and rage. Arnav was desperate, which made him incredibly dangerous. She knew it was a trap. She knew going alone was suicide.
But she couldn't let them destroy the only piece of her mother she had left.
She quickly slipped a small, sharp paper-cutter from the desk into her pocket and hurried down the hallway, avoiding the main security cameras.
Just as she reached the heavy wooden exit doors of the mansion, a firm, towering hand slammed against the doorframe right next to her head, blocking her path.
Nisha gasped and spun around.
Reyansh was standing there, dressed in a sleek black silk shirt, his eyes dark with an icy fury that rivaled a storm. He held up his own phone, which displayed the exact same tracking coordinates as hers.
"Where do you think you're going without your weapon, wife?" Reyansh asked, his voice dangerously soft.
## What happens next?
Reyansh has discovered the trap! Will he let Nisha go face her past, or will they walk into the lion's den together? The final showdown with Arnav and Riya is about to begin.
- Writer
