The estate gates opened to a sleek black car and a storm of perfume and memories.
Meher stood by the balcony as a woman stepped out—tall, elegant, draped in ivory silk. Her eyes scanned the mansion like it still belonged to her.
A maid whispered beside Meher, “That’s Alina Ma’am. Kabir Sir’s old flame.”
Old flame.
The words tasted bitter.
At dinner, Kabir introduced her casually. “Alina Mehta. Business partner from London.”
Alina smiled, warm but sharp. “We were more than partners, darling,” she said, eyes fixed on Kabir.
Meher’s hands clenched under the table.
Alina’s gaze shifted. “So… this is the new bride.”
“Wife,” Meher corrected, chin high.
Kabir stayed quiet, unreadable.
After dinner, Meher found him in the study.
“You invited her here?” she asked, voice low.
“She came on business.”
“She came for you.”
He looked up. “Are you jealous, Meher?”
She stepped close. “No. I’m warning you.”
He chuckled, dark and amused. “That’s new.”
She grabbed his collar, pulling him just close enough. “She looks at you like she owns you.”
“And you don’t?”
“I never wanted to. But now…” Her voice cracked, honest and raw.
Kabir stilled. “Now what?”
She didn’t answer.
But as she walked out, her blood burned with something ugly.
Because power was one thing.
But losing him?
That wasn’t part of her plan.
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