Tomorrow, she'd get through another day. And another. And another.
She'd survive this, the same way she'd survived everything else.
Even if surviving meant accepting that the man she loved would never trust her enough to love her back.
Even if it broke her heart in the process.
Chapter Eight
One Week Later
A week. Seven days since the confrontation in Sidharth's office. Seven days of him avoiding her like she carried the plague. Seven days of eating meals alone, sleeping in an empty bed, and being treated like a pariah in her own home.
The investigation into the mole was ongoing—Advika knew this because she'd overheard staff talking. Sidharth had brought in outside security consultants. Everyone's movements were being tracked. And she, apparently, was still suspect number one.
The irony would have been funny if it didn't hurt so much.
She'd stopped crying after the third day. Stopped hoping he'd come to the bedroom and apologize. Stopped caring, or at least convincing herself she'd stopped caring.
Instead, she'd channeled all her hurt and anger into becoming the most difficult version of herself possible. If they wanted to treat her like the enemy, fine. She'd act like it.
Nisha bore the brunt of her transformation.
It started at breakfast on day five.
Advika walked into the dining room to find Nisha holding court as usual, this time with two of her society friends. The conversation stopped abruptly when Advika entered.
"Don't stop on my account," Advika said sweetly, pouring herself coffee. "I'm sure whatever you were saying about me was fascinating."
"We weren't—" one of the friends started.
"Please." Advika settled into her seat. "This is the Singhania estate. Everyone talks about everyone. I'm just the most interesting topic lately because apparently I'm a criminal mastermind capable of orchestrating warehouse attacks while baking croissants."
Nisha's eyes narrowed. "No one said—"
"You did. A week ago. In Sidharth's office. Excellent acoustics in this house, by the way. You should remember that next time you're plotting."
The friends exchanged uncomfortable glances. Nisha's face flushed.
"I was simply raising concerns—"
"You were accusing me of treason based on nothing but my last name and your own insecurity." Advika took a deliberate sip of coffee. "There's a difference."
"How dare you—"
"Oh, I dare." Advika smiled, all teeth. "You know what I've realized this past week? I've been too nice. Too accommodating. Trying so hard to fit in, to be accepted, to not make waves. And where did that get me? Accused of crimes I didn't commit and treated like garbage in my own home."
"This isn't your home—"
"Actually, it is. I'm married to the owner. That makes it legally mine too. You're just the sister who never moved out." Advika stood, grabbing her coffee. "Enjoy your breakfast, ladies. Try not to choke on your judgment."
She walked out, leaving stunned silence behind her.
It felt good. Terrifying, but good.
Day six, Advika found Nisha in the library—her library, the one place she'd claimed as her sanctuary.
"This room is occupied," Advika said from the doorway.
