The party ended hours ago, but the silence inside the Kapoor estate was louder than any music that had played.

Ishani hadn’t spoken a word since they returned.

Sarthak hadn’t either.

The tension between them was suffocating — every step she took, she could feel his gaze on her.

And then, without warning, he reached for her wrist.

His grip was firm, unyielding as he led her through the dimly lit corridors. Her heart pounded, the air thick with something she couldn’t name — fear, anger… or the beginning of something even darker.

She didn’t ask where they were going — she knew better than to question him.

But when he stopped in front of a heavy iron door and pushed it open, her blood ran cold.

In the center, tied to a chair, beaten and barely conscious, was Ronak.

“Bhai!” Ishani gasped, rushing forward, but Sarthak caught her wrist, stopping her.

“Careful, Mrs. Kapoor,” he murmured, his tone low and dark. “You wouldn’t want to dirty your saree.”

Ishani’s breath hitched as she took in her brother’s battered state. His face was bruised, his shirt torn, dried blood at the corner of his lips.

“Bhai…” she whispered, tears threatening to fall.

His eyes lifted weakly at the sound of her voice. “Ishani…” His voice was hoarse, pain and relief mingling.

A bitter chuckle cut through the tension. Sarthak stepped closer, circling them like a predator.

Ronak’s rage flared through his pain. He struggled against the ropes, glaring at Sarthak. “You bastard! You dragged my sister into this? You think this will break me?”

Sarthak crouched in front of him, gripping his chin with deliberate cruelty. “Oh, Ronak… I don’t need to break you. You’re already broken.”

Ronak spat at him, fury raw. Sarthak’s smirk only deepened. “I admire your spirit. Too bad it won’t save you.”

Ishani panicked. “Sarthak, please—let him go! You have me. You’ve already taken your revenge—”

Sarthak’s jaw clenched, eyes snapping to hers, sharp as knives.

“Revenge?” His voice was soft, deceptively calm. “You think this is about revenge?”

Her stomach twisted. It wasn’t?

Sarthak stood, adjusting his cuffs, his face unreadable. Dangerous. Then, in a chillingly calm voice, he said, “Your brother took away the woman I loved. Now, I’ll make sure he watches as I take away the woman he loves.”

Ishani’s breath hitched. The truth sank in like ice. This wasn’t just revenge. This was a calculated plan to destroy them—and she was the weapon.

She ripped her wrist free and rushed toward Ronak. “Bhai!” Her hands trembled as she cupped his bruised face, fighting back tears. He looked so fragile, so broken. Not the brother she knew.

“I’ll kill him,” Ronak shouted, jaw clenched. “I swear I’ll kill him.”

A dark chuckle filled the room.

“You talk too much for a man who can’t even move,” Sarthak said.

Ishani spun around, shielding her brother. “Enough, Sarthak! You’ve done enough! Please, just let him go.”

Sarthak tilted his head, smirking that cruel, mocking smirk. “Let him go?” He stepped closer, eyes dark and unreadable. “And why would I do that, Mrs. Kapoor?”

The name sounded like chains around her neck.

Ishani straightened. “Because you’ve already won. You wanted to punish Ronak? You did. You wanted to trap me? You did. You got everything you wanted. What more do you need?”

Sarthak stared at her, something flickering in his eyes. Dangerous. Then he leaned close, breath warm against her ear.

“You.”

Ishani’s chest tightened. His voice—low, dark, possessive—made her shiver.

“Sarthak—” she began, but he turned away, voice casual, lethal.

“Take him to the cells.”

Her heart stopped.

“No—NO!” Ishani lunged forward, trying to stop them as Sarthak’s men grabbed Ronak.

“ISHANI!” Ronak’s voice echoed. “Don’t let him win!”

She struggled, hitting his chest, screaming his name. “Sarthak, stop! PLEASE!”

But he didn’t. He only tightened his grip, voice low, firm, final.

“It’s time you accept, Ishani.”

He turned her to face him, dark eyes burning into hers.

“You are mine now. And there’s nothing you can do about it.”