“I don’t know about other times, but right now, you were rude,” Rajat replied firmly.
“Fine.” Avni shrugged again. “If you think everything is my fault, then so be it.”
She walked into the hotel, leaving Rajat and Mishti standing there, both unhappy with what had just transpired with their respective partners.
Although Mishti had decided she wouldn’t interfere, she couldn’t stop herself this time.
“Why is Avni so bitter toward Karan?” she finally asked Rajat. “She behaves as if she genuinely hates him.”
Rajat nodded. “That’s because she does hate him. She always has. And she’s wrong, terribly wrong. She has no idea what Karan has done for her.”
Mishti’s interest was instantly piqued.
Rajat shrugged, about to leave, but Mishti stepped in front of him, blocking his way.
“I want to know everything.”
He looked away, clearly conflicted, unsure whether he should speak. But Mishti was adamant this time.
“Look,” she said quietly, “I know you would never betray your best friend. All this time, when I wanted to know why Karan married me, when he didn’t even want to accept me as his wife, you and Abhimanyu stayed silent. You never told me the truth. But now… now I think I at least deserve to know what’s so broken between Karan and his sister. Why did he keep herhidden in London? Why did he never tell me about her existence even once? Why?”
That was when Rajat finally spoke. “Because of Dilip Goel, yourfather, Mishti.”
Mishti stepped back in shock.
“Yes,” Rajat nodded. “Once again, only because of him.”
And what he told her shook Mishti to her core. He told her how, after their mother’s death, Karan stopped being just an elder brother and became a shield, one willing to take every blow if it meant his sister stayed untouched. He explained how Dilip Goel’s reach extended far beyond prison walls, how threats lingered despite him being behind bars. He told her about that specific incident when Avni was almost abducted, and how Karan was then forced to make a decision he had never wanted to make. Of sending her away to safety. Under a different surname. A different life.
Mishti felt the ground slip beneath her feet as Rajat went on. He told her how Avni never got answers. How she had believed, because everyone let her, that her brother had chosen power, money, inheritance… everything except her.
Mishti felt a helpless, choking guilt rise in her chest.
“Every threat. Every shadow. Every reason Karan turned into the man you know today leads back to Dilip Goel,” Rajat added.
She felt sick.
Once again, the trail of destruction led back to the same man…her father.
The man sitting in prison. Still alive, still breathing.
CHAPTER 35
Same Night
Mishti couldn’t sleep. It was already close to midnight. The entire day of shopping and wandering through markets had left her physically drained, yet sleep refused to come. Rajat’s revelation about why Avni and Karan’s relationship was so fractured kept circling back in her head.
So much of Karan’s life had been shaped by bloodshed, fear, and loss. And every road, no matter how far it seemed to branch away, somehow curved back to her father.Dilip Goel.
None of it was her fault. She knew that. And still, it hurt. It bruised something deep inside her. The thought that if her father hadn’t destroyed the Wadhwa family the way he did, Karan would have been a different man altogether. He would still have his mother. His sister would still be close to him. He would still have a family. Instead, he had been left with nothing but fire and solitude, burning alone ever since and learned to survive without leaning on anyone.
A tear slid down her cheek, and a sob nearly escaped her lips when a knock sounded on the door.
Mishti jolted upright. She hadn’t ordered any room service. She wasn’t expecting anyone either. Then who could it be at this hour?
Wiping her tears hastily, she walked to the door and peered through the peephole. Her breath caught as she saw Karanoutside. He was leaning slightly against the door, one hand braced on the frame. He was still wearing the black shirt from earlier, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, black denims creased from a long day. His hair was dishevelled, as if he had dragged his fingers through it one too many times. And his eyes, when he lifted his head and knocked again, were red and glassy.
Karan was drunk. A bit too much. Her hand hovered over the lock. If she did not open the door, he might lose his balance and fall; he looked that sloppy. The thought alone was enough to make her act.
