"You walked into the lion's den, sweetheart," he whispered, stepping closer. "And lions don't let go so easily."
He looked down at her leg, at her trembling hands, and the fear in her eyes.
"A beautiful young girl like you," he chuckled, "shouldn't...
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. . . . . Somewhere in the mansion's east wing, the morning began not with sunlight, but with scandal.
Shama Begum was on a mission.
"Hadh hoti hai besharmi ki!" she muttered furiously under her breath. "He wants to marry her? That lizard in heels? That Veronica?! Hai Allah! And I saw it with my own two eyes! Hugging that Rodriguez boy like—!"
She clutched her pearl-inlaid prayer beads tighter. "Does she think I'm blind because I'm old? Do I look old? I'll show her what old women are made of....."
She reached Sultan's door and knocked once—sharply.
No answer.
Again, louder.
Still silence.
Her lips thinned. "Uff, neend mein ghode bech ke so raha hoga!" she grumbled, and raised her hand for a third, angrier knock—
—when the door creaked open.
Veronica stood on the other side, tousled, yawning, wearing nothing but a large black T-shirt that very much did not belong to her.
Shama Begum's soul almost left her body.
"What—" she blinked rapidly, pointing. "What are you doing here, in this room?!"
Veronica blinked sleepily. "Aunty? What—what are you doing here at this hour?"
That was the wrong thing to say.
Shama Begum shoved past her like a woman possessed. "Get out of my way!" she snapped."Where is my son?! Sultan! That nalayak—"
She stopped.
Mid-room.
Mid-sentence.
Mouth agape.
Because it wasn't Sultan sprawled shirtless across the bed, tangled in the ivory sheets.
It was Rodriguez.
Snoring softly.
She let out a blood-curdling shriek.
---
Meanwhile...
In a quieter, darker part of the estate, Sultan Emad Khan sat at the edge of a four-poster bed, shirtless and calm as death.
The only chaos he allowed himself to watch was the rise and fall of Mishti's bare back, traced in faint red lines and bruises shaped by his mouth, his hands.
She was still asleep—on her stomach, cheek pressed into a pillow, lashes fluttering.
He lifted the sheet and pulled it gently up to cover her hips.
Then—
A scream pierced the quiet. A familiar one.
He flinched slightly. She stirred with a soft, startled gasp.
