Something flickered in his amber eyes—guilt, maybe, or acknowledgment. But his expression remained neutral.
"Mihika is family," Nisha said firmly. "She's been part of this house long before you arrived—"
"But I'm actually family," Advika interrupted. "I'm his wife. Whether you like it or not, whether I wanted it or not, I'm family now. And I'm tired of being treated like I'm less than everyone else in this house."
"You married into this family for political reasons," Nisha shot back. "Don't pretend you have some moral high ground. We all know you're just here because your father needed to secure peace—"
"Enough." Sidharth's voice cut through the argument like a blade. "Both of you."
He stood, moving to the window, his back to them both. Advika watched the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands clenched and unclenched.
"Nisha, Mihika needs to respect boundaries," he said finally. "I'll speak with her."
Nisha's face lit up with vindication. "See? Even he agrees—"
"And you," Sidharth turned to his sister, "need to stop setting up situations designed to make Advika uncomfortable. I've noticed. I'm not blind."
Nisha's expression shifted from triumphant to shocked. "Bhai—"
"I said enough." His tone left no room for argument. "Advika is my wife. Start treating her like it."
It was the most he'd ever defended her. The most he'd ever publicly acknowledged their relationship meant something.
Advika felt something warm bloom in her chest, even as Nisha's face flushed with anger and humiliation.
"This is ridiculous," Nisha said. "She's got you wrapped around her finger—"
"Out." Sidharth's voice was deadly quiet. "We'll discuss this later. Privately."
Nisha stormed out, slamming the door behind her.
The silence that followed was thick with tension. Advika and Sidharth stood on opposite sides of the room, the distance between them feeling like miles.
"Thank you," Advika said quietly. "For—"
"Don't." He held up a hand. "Don't thank me for doing the bare minimum."
"It's more than you've done before."
He flinched at that, the blow landing. "I know."
They stared at each other, and for a moment, Advika thought maybe they were finally making progress. Maybe they could actually talk, actually build something real—
His phone rang, shattering the moment. He answered it, his expression shifting from conflicted to cold and hard in seconds.
"When?" A pause. "How bad?" Another pause. "I'm on my way."
He hung up, already moving toward the door, grabbing his jacket.
"What's wrong?" Advika asked.
"Business." The word was clipped. "Don't wait up."
And he was gone, leaving her alone in his office with more questions than answers.
The attack on the warehouse was the talk of the estate by morning.
Advika pieced together what happened from whispered conversations between staff members and Rishabh's grim expression at breakfast. A Singhania warehouse on the south side of the city had been hit—inventory destroyed, two guards injured, and worst of all, it had been surgical. Precise. Like whoever did it knew exactly when and where to strike.
