The night had ended, but its shadows refused to leave.

Prisha lay awake in the vast bed of the Kapoor mansion, her mind replaying every second of the ball. Riaan’s hands gripping her waist… his voice growling that she belonged to him… his fury at Kiara.

It was madness. He humiliated her, chained her with his arrogance—yet when he said those words, a shiver had run through her, equal parts fear and something she couldn’t name.

Tears stung her eyes. Why does my heart betray me?

The door clicked open. She stiffened.

Riaan walked in, his tuxedo jacket gone, his shirt slightly undone at the collar, revealing the powerful lines of his chest. His eyes met hers across the dim room—stormy, unreadable.

For a moment, neither spoke. Only silence thickened.

Then his voice, low and commanding, broke it.

“Why were you laughing with him?”

Prisha blinked, stunned. “What?”

“The man at the party. You laughed.” His jaw clenched, his fists tight at his sides. “You smiled at him the way you don’t smile at me.”

Her heart pounded. “He was only being polite. You… you were with her.”

The word her cracked out of her mouth like venom.

Riaan’s eyes darkened. He strode closer, each step a threat, a promise. “Kiara doesn’t matter. You do.”

She gasped softly, the world tilting. “If I matter, then why do you hurt me, Riaan? Why do you break me every time I try to stand?”

His face shifted—rage, pain, hunger—all colliding. His hand slammed against the wall beside her head, caging her in. His body hovered dangerously close.

“Because,” he breathed, his voice a raw confession, “I don’t know how to stop.”

Her breath hitched. His nearness suffocated her, yet her body refused to move. His scent, his heat—it pulled her into the fire.

“Riaan…” she whispered, torn between defiance and surrender.

His fingers brushed her chin, tilting her face up. His eyes bore into hers, fierce and unrelenting. “You drive me insane, Prisha. The thought of anyone else near you—touching you—kills me.”

Her heart stuttered. A tear slid down her cheek. “And what about me? What about how much you hurt me?”

Something flickered in his eyes. For the first time, the walls around him cracked.

He caught her tear with his thumb, his touch uncharacteristically gentle. “I hurt you… and still, I can’t let you go.”

Her lips parted in shock. The words were a blade and a balm all at once.

For a heartbeat, time stopped. His thumb traced the curve of her cheek; his other hand hovered near her waist, trembling as though restraining himself. His breath fanned her skin.

The tension snapped.

Riaan leaned in—so close she could feel the ghost of his lips on hers.

But just before the distance closed, he pulled back violently, as though burned. He turned away, running a hand through his hair, his chest heaving.

“Damn it,” he cursed under his breath. “You’re not supposed to matter this much.”

Prisha’s knees weakened, her emotions unraveling. She hugged herself, desperate to stop shaking.

“Then why…” her voice trembled, “…why did you marry me if you can’t love me?”

The question sliced the air.

Riaan froze, his back to her.

Silence stretched—long, heavy, suffocating.

When he finally spoke, his voice was hollow, yet laced with something that sent shivers down her spine.

“Because love… was never part of the deal.”

Her chest cracked open at the cruel truth. Tears spilled freely. She turned away, unable to let him see her break again.

But as she curled into the bed, one thought refused to leave her—she had seen it. The flicker in his eyes, the storm he tried to bury. He felt something. Even if he denied it, even if he destroyed her with his denial… it was there.

And so began a new war.

Not just between husband and wife.

But between a man running from his own heart… and a woman desperate to survive his fire without burning to ashes.