Chapter 49 :

21 September, Sunday, 2025
8:55 a.m.

Anvaya's POV

"Yes ma'am, I'll come," I replied, before hanging up.

I sighed.

Mrs Lavanya called me to the hospital, for some patient was admitted and needed me take her place to look after the patient. She was going for some business trip abroad so I was the suitable person as an alternative—according to her.

Today, when she called, I couldn't just see her as our HOD anymore. I saw her as the woman who had signed away her career just to keep her fame, name and money. Even if they might disappear if Kaaryaksh wanted.

This wasn't the reason behind my disdain toward her.

The main reason was she was also in the plan with the authority to throw me in the mess Kaaryaksh had set for me.

And I used to trust her.

Well, nothing matters anymore. Everyone was showing colours now.

Setting down the phone, I turned—and froze. But my body shook from the sudden fright that struck me.

My breath caught. My heart slammed hard against my ribs, rattling in my chest, my palm instinctively pressing against it as if I could steady the violent thrum.

I took a step back, carving a narrow strip of air between us.

"What are you doing here?" My voice was steady, but my eyes searched his.

He stood like a shadow cut sharp against the light—black suit, gray shirt, a tie knotted with surgical precision. Hair slicked back in an unforgiving line. The rimless glasses framed eyes that never softened.

And he smelled fresh. Too fresh—like the world outside had not touched him, but something far more dangerous had.

"You're going somewhere," he said, his voice smooth and low.

"Was that a question?" I adjusted my glasses, a reflex to keep my hands from trembling.

He gave a single nod.

"Yes. Mrs. Lavanya called me. I assume you already knew that—probably before I did." The sarcasm bled from my tone, sharp enough to cut, but clipped at the end. Because of course he knew.

This knowledge burned in me.

He chuckled, the sound deep and almost soundless, stepping forward until the warmth of him reached my skin. One arm slid around my waist like a claim. "You're annoyed?"

"Am I allowed to be?"

"I've never controlled your feelings," he murmured, leaning in—so close his breath grazed the side of my neck. "You knew that last night."

My breath hitched. His words dragged me back into the dark hours—into the way he had wrapped my insecurities like silk around me, weaving them into something dangerously beautiful. His lips had been ruthless in their devotion, claiming every hollow, every curve, every hidden mole until my body was stripped of all pretense.

I'd tried to wash him off in the cold morning shower, yet, the heat of his touch clung anyway.

I broke his gaze, but his fingers caught my chin and forced me to face him again.

"Don't look away when I talk to you."

I nodded, small, unwilling.

"Why didn't you claim me last night?" I asked, the words spilling before I could stop them. "You had every chance. And even... I allowed it."

He studied me, a slow shadow passing through his expression. "Because I won't give you a name when someone else already has my last name."

Disbelief twisted in me. Guess, I was too quick to believe his words. Why'd he even give me a name?

Oh Good Lord, I was so delusional.

"You don't want to? Then what about what you said that day?" My laugh was bitter, fractured. "Foolish of me to think you'd keep your word. I'm just your mistress—"

His mouth crashed against mine, swallowing the rest. My eyes widened, shocked at the taste of him and the quiet violence in the kiss.

When he pulled away, his gaze had shifted—darker now, pupils deep as pits, his irises holding no light.

"You judge too quickly, Anvaya." His voice was low, but not a warning.
"I don't want to give you my name when someone else carries it... because you deserve to be the only one. Not second choice."

I went still.

"Wait for me," he continued, each word deliberate, heavy, inescapable. "And I'll give you my last name. Rightfully. But until then, I won't let you hide from your own desires. Like you tried to last night."

His words lodged in my throat.

Give me his last name?

And that meant nothing but...

The world stilled for a heartbeat—but clarity followed like ice. He wasn't a man who married for love. He was a man who conquered. And marriage was simply another battlefield.to him, but not to me.

"You'll marry me?" My voice was tight, unsure.

"Do you want me to?"

"You tell me."

"I will," he said without hesitation. Without shame.

It was not a promise—it was a verdict.

And he had never gone back on a verdict.

The thought churned my stomach. The image of him standing beside me at the pavilion was not a dream but a threat. He belonged to the world of power—of quiet wars fought in boardrooms and ballrooms, of masks behind which people devoured each other whole. And I... I was nothing but a shadow in that world.

Even if I felt something for him, it could never survive the blinding heat of that stage. Especially not when a woman like Viola already bore his name—Viola, whose influence could topple reputations with a whisper.

My own behaviour and thoughts frustrated me. When he won't be with me, I'd tell myself I'll ignore him, maintain a distance from him and remind myself he was married. But the moment he had my trapped with him, all I could think was him—and him.

This suffocated me.

Tears burned at the back of my eyes.

"You won't. You can't marry me," I said, hating how my voice wavered.

He didn't so much as blink. "And what makes you think that?"

"You're married, Kaaryaksh. Why do you ignore that? You have a wife. You're obsessed with me, not in love with me. And I will not marry a man who doesn't love me back." My voice rose, edged with the heat of my own fear.

"I'm a commoner in your world. A nobody. You—" I broke off, my breath unsteady. "You control everything you touch, you hide in shadows and still manage to rule the light. And me? I'm prey the moment I step into your sphere. They will tear me apart. They will call me your mistress even when I wear your ring, the vermillion and nuptial chain in your name. They will spit my name like it's dirt."

I swallowed hard.

"Our worlds are not just different, Kaaryaksh. Yours was built on the bones of people like me. You've built your world on walls I can't climb."

I was tired.

Not the kind of tired that a night’s sleep could fix—this exhaustion had taken root in my chest and spread through every nerve.

I was tired of myself.
Of wanting him when I knew I shouldn’t.
Of letting my desires lead me into his orbit, only to wake up with guilt gnawing at my ribs.

Every time I swore I’d draw a line. Every time I promised myself I’d keep my distance. And yet here I was—close enough to hear his breathing, close enough to remember the weight of his hands, the heat of his mouth.

But wanting him was one thing.
Living with him was another.

I knew what people would say if this went any further—if I, a commoner with nothing but my name, ended up married to a man like him.

They’d make it ugly.
They’d call it a scheme. They’d twist it into a story where I was the snake and he was the fool who’d fallen for me.

They wouldn’t see a woman in love. They’d see a thief who’d stolen something she could never deserve.

And I wasn’t ready for that.

I shook my head slowly, stepping back from him. My heart pounded in a rhythm I didn’t want to understand.
Yes, I wanted him. I always had. But never—not once—had I pictured him as my husband.

Because even if I had, it would be a dangerous dream.

He was already married.

If he divorced, it wouldn’t matter what the truth was. The world would blame me. They'd call me the villain—the homewrecker who ruined Viola's happily married life with her husband, Kaaryaksh.

"Let me go," I whispered, meeting his eyes.

He didn’t answer. He didn’t even blink.

Then, without a word, he took a step toward me. And another.

I retreated until my back hit the wall. His body loomed, his arms coming up to trap me between them, each palm braced against the wall at my sides. The scent of him was suffocating. His shadow was all around me.

"Come again?" His voice was quiet, controlled, but something inside it warned me that he already knew exactly what I’d said. He just wanted to hear it again.

"I said leave me." My voice trembled, but I forced the words out. "You’ve bound me enough, and I can’t go on like this anymore. It’s… suffocating." My throat tightened. "I neither have a name nor a justifiable position in your life to allow this romance."

His eyes didn’t change, but mine burned. My tears slipped down, hot and humiliating.

And then, without thinking, without even meaning to, the dam inside me broke.

"David was better than you." The name was out before I could stop it, my voice trembling with rage I didn’t recognize. "He was a gentleman. He knew how to treat women, how to value them, how to behave. He treated me with care—unlike you." My chest rose and fell too fast. "You got me with force. You never cared about my consent. It’s as if you wanted some doll and just… took it. You touched me. You took my first kiss. You disgust me."

My voice was cracking now, but I didn’t stop.

"Yes, you disgust me. They didn’t lie when they called you a monster—because you are." I spat the words like poison. Yelling my lungs out. "You’re just a weakling hiding behind control, obsession, and darkness. A fucking weakling who can’t survive without his shadows."

I just yelled.

The words tasted bitter in my mouth, but once they were out, I couldn’t take them back. Everything came spilling—Viola’s accusations, the nights I’d laid awake thinking about him, the war between wanting and hating him, the way my life had begun to unravel since he stepped into it.

When I stopped, the silence hit me like a slap.

I looked at him—and my stomach dropped.

I had expected rage. Or that cold, cruel smirk he sometimes wore like armor.
But there was something else.

A flicker.

Not softness. Not kindness. But something unguarded, something human that I had never seen in those cold, steely eyes.

It was gone in an instant.

His jaw tightened, almost imperceptibly. His gaze cooled—not into the icy bite I knew so well, but into tempered steel.

He stepped back. He said nothing, just moved away.

"See you in the evening," he said simply, turning toward the door.

It took me a second to realize I’d reached out for him—fingers brushing at the empty air he’d already left behind. The door shut with a thud, leaving me with that emptiness and lack of warmth.

I hated how my heart wanted him back, the warmth he had in him that had somehow become something more than an escape to me.

Call me shameless. I don't care. Because I've become one already.

My lips parted. "What… what did I just say?" The whisper trembled out of me.

The room felt colder without him in it. I stood there for a long moment, hands pressed to my mouth as if I could shove the words back in.

David.
I’d said his name.
The one name I wasn’t allowed to say.

I’d broken the only rule again.

But the panic twisting in me wasn’t just about the rule. I was afraid—not of what he’d do, but of the way it hurt to watch him walk away like that.

Why was I feeling bad for him?
Was I even supposed to?

The truth was heavy, ugly, and unavoidable. He had never outright initiated anything between us. Yes, he had bent the world around him until it worked in his favor. Yes, he had made it almost impossible to resist him.

But I had still kissed him.
I had still let him touch me.
I had still wanted him.

And now I didn’t know what was wrong or right anymore.

I didn’t know if I was the victim or the villain. Or both.

All I knew was that I was lost.