Page 165 of Since You Stole My Heart

A low laugh rang through the phone. ‘I will. With your help. Or else...’

Cold dread curled through her as she clutched the phone tighter, trying to ground the panic clawing at her. ‘Or else what?’

‘Or else, I’m pretty sure the media and public will be far more interested in the mysterious accident that killed beloved humanitarian Arohi Kashyap than some silly boy playing with his camera.’

Her jaw clenched hard as hate burned through her veins like venom. ‘Viraj is playing with people’s lives.’

‘And he’s very good at it,’ Karthik replied with a pleased chuckle. ‘That’s why you should think twice before doing something far worse than murder.’

‘I won’t let you win,’ she said, though it lacked conviction. Loud, insistent denial echoed in her head, drowning out everything else.

‘Sweetheart, you’re a fool if you think you can outplay me. None of your childish tantrums will make a difference. The world, especially your sister and husband, will only remember you as a murderer.’

The line went dead.

Her father’s words slipped past her final defences, and something bruised and fragile inside her slowly began to go numb.

Kashvi flung the phone onto the bed. She dragged a hand through her curls, restless energy spilling through her limbs with nowhere to go.

Through the high-pitched ringing in her ears, she heard Siya shouting outside in the living room. Her voice drifted faintly through the closed door, telling Kashvi her sister was home.

Kashvi breathed in shallow bursts, pressing her palm against her chest. If she allowed her father to hold this over them, it would never end. He would haunt them until he rotted away everything they had built with love.

She knew she had to come clean and tell Siya the truth she had buried for years.

A sharp, nauseating fear curled low in her gut. Because deep down, she knew Siya would never forgive her.

But this was the only way to outplay her father.

Her panic slowly collapsed into resignation, and Kashvi reached for her bedroom door and opened it.

Siya stood with her back to her, one hand braced on her hip as she fired questions at Vihaan. Her hair was twisted into a messy bun, and she wore one of Kashvi’s old chikankari kurtis.

The sight almost made Kashvi cry again, but she held it back.

When she cleared her throat, Siya turned around. The air around her charged with fury as she took in the bruises on her younger sister’s face. She cursed in a way Kashvi had never heard before.

Siya crossed the room in long strides, stepping over the littered floor, while Abhay followed behind her, equally alarmed. ‘What the hell happened here?’

‘Di, it’s fine,’ Kashvi murmured.

Abhay looked her over. ‘Are you okay? Did you see a doctor?’ he asked, concern etched across his face.

She nodded weakly, too drained to speak.

Swayam stepped up behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist. ‘Maithili came to check on her. She’s fine now.’

‘Good,’ Siya said, though her eyes still blazed with fury. She gripped Kashvi’s shoulders. ‘Then you can explain to me who the hell Viraj is and what’s going on.’

When Kashvi winced, Swayam gently reminded her, ‘Siya, take it easy. You’re overwhelming her.’

‘Don’t tell me to take it easy,’ Siya snapped instantly. ‘Where were you when this happened?’

‘Siya, listen—’

She cut him off, frustration spilling over. ‘No, you listen. I trusted you to take care of her, to keep her safe, but just look at her.’

Guilt flashed plainly across his face.