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Kal Meera tadpi kanhan ko,
Sab laaj samaaj gawayi re!
Ab prem mein tadpan tarsan ki,
Hai baari kanhan ki aayi re!
Mori jaan gayi, tohra khel hua!
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The room was silent when I said it. Not the quiet of peace, but the heavy stillness that comes when the noose tightens around a man's throat.
"We'll use Sameer."
My words hung there, sharp as blade. Across from me, Shivaay froze, his fists tightening on the carved wooden armrest as if he wanted to snap it in half. His eyes — restless, burning, already red with sleepless fury — turned on me with the kind of disbelief only brothers reserve for each other.
"You've lost your damn mind." His voice was gravel, ground down by rage. "Sameer? Against his own blood? You think he will ever stand against them? Against him?"
I let him spit his anger. It was easier than the silence. Silence made him think too much. Anger made him predictable.
"You keep calling it blood," I murmured. "But blood means nothing when weighed against what Sameer truly loves"
"You know very, very well," I continued, my tone dark silk, "the kind of love Sameer carries for her. The kind of devotion that eclipses every other tie. If there is one bond that could make him go to lengths he never dared imagine, it's hers. And Annahita—" I paused just enough to let the syllable echo. "Anu isn't the one, but she is her shadow. Connected. That is why Sameer cannot stay still. That is why he can be broken open, and directed."
For a long second Shivaay said nothing. He studied me like he wanted to see the trap hidden inside my words. His knuckles whitened faintly as they pressed into his knees.
I saw the thought strike him, saw the storm behind his eyes. The her neither of us dared to name in open air, not here, not yet. Because even speaking it was dangerous. Because her shadow was a blade that could cut through all of us.
