Defence Of Desire

•Part Four•

Anushka sat alone in her dimly lit office, the weight of the world pressing down on her shoulders like a heavy burden. Tears streamed down her cheeks unnoticed, her hands trembled as she tried in vain to stem the tide of emotion threatening to engulf her.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn't hear the soft click of the door opening or the quiet footsteps that approached her desk. It was only when a gentle hand brushed against her cheek that she looked up, startled, to see Virat standing before her, his expression filled with concern.

"Mona Lisa," he said softly, his voice laced with worry. "Are you alright?"

Her breath caught in her throat as she met his gaze, her eyes brimming with tears. She tried to speak, to find the words to convey the overwhelming turmoil swirling within her, but all she could manage was a choked sob.

Without a word, he pulled a hanky from his pocket and held it out to her.

Anushka's throat was tight with emotion as she took it gratefully. Shaking her head, she huffed, ignoring her ex's questioning look. "Don't" she warned, "Don't look at me like that, like you have the right to worry about me when another man hurts my feelings".

"Anush-".

The slam of the door cut him off, the clickety-clack of her heels against the marble floor the only response he was going to get.

***

It was later that night when she finally got home. Kicking her heels off, she grabbed the bottle of vodka from the side and threw herself onto the sofa, surfing through channels until something caught her attention.

"Little has been revealed about Mr Aditya Hooda's part to play in his wife's murder, but it's clear the police have their main suspect".

An image crackled onto the screen, one that made Anushka's heart skip a beat. There she was, Zoya, a woman who looked like a mirror reflection of the woman now wide-eyed and staring into the TV.

Caramel-toned hair, dark brown eyes and a slender figure that matched in every way, and God, she wished that was all, but the only differences were a silver ring in Zoya's nose and the fact her hair was wavy while her own was straight.

Shock coursed through her veins as she studied the image, her eyes tracing the features that mirrored her own over and over again with unsettling precision. Suddenly, it all made sense; Aditya's anger, his sadness, his absolution that she was his wife, for a second even she'd believed it after seeing herself in his wife the way she just had.

How it was possible that she and Zoya could look so alike, down to the smallest detail, she did not know. It was as if fate itself had conspired to blur the lines between them, weaving a tangled web of confusion and uncertainty.

Torn between disbelief and a growing sense of dread, she struggled to make sense of the revelation before her. What did it mean? And more importantly, what did it mean for Aditya, who sat in a jail cell accused of a crime he may not have committed?

***

Anushka sat at her desk, pouring over the thick stack of case files spread out before her. The harsh fluorescent lights cast long shadows across the room, their cold glare reflecting the turmoil churning within her. As she flipped through page after page, her eyes fell upon a detail that made her blood run cold.

Aditya's first wife had cheated on him.

The words stared back at her from the page, stark and unforgiving. A wave of empathy washed over her as she imagined the pain and betrayal Aditya must have felt upon discovering his wife's infidelity. It was a wound that ran deep, leaving scars that may never fully heal. It was one she knew all too well.