Author's POV:

They all finally reached Mussoorie, the cold breeze brushing against their tired faces as they checked into a cozy hillside hotel.

Aahan stretched his arms and said,

"Maine aur bhai ek room maine reh lenge... aap aur Arushi bhi ek maine ruk jao."

Jhanvi simply nodded, quietly following arushi to their rooms.

Inside, Arushi sat on the bed scrolling through her phone while Jhanvi finished unpacking. After a moment, she hesitantly walked toward Arushi and softly said, 

"Hi..."

It was their first time being alone together since the day they met. 

Jhanvi didn't know why—maybe instinct, maybe fate—but she felt oddly comfortable around Arushi... just like she did around Reeva. 

But still, she hesitated to talk openly.

Arushi looked up and gave a warm smile.

"Baitho."

Jhanvi nodded and sat beside her. Silence filled the room for a few seconds. Then Jhanvi cleared her throat.

"Bura na mano toh ek baat puchu?"

Arushi smiled and nodded, encouraging her to speak.

Jhanvi bit her lip before whispering,

"Umm... Aryan theek nahi ho sakta kya?"

Arushi paused. Her eyes softened with something unreadable.

"Pata nahi..."

Jhanvi frowned.

"Pata nahi matlab?"

Arushi sighed, getting up from the bed.

"Nahi pata kaise theek hoga... but hoga zaroor."

Jhanvi nodded, silently respecting their family's privacy.

Then Arushi tilted her head and asked with a teasing softness,

"Waise... why are you so much concerned?"

Jhanvi froze mid-movement, her breath caught.

"Nhi... voh bas... curiosity."

Her voice cracked slightly.

Arushi didn't press further.

"Main Aahan ke sath walk pe jaa rahi hoon. Tum Aryan bhai ko sambhaal logi?"

Jhanvi quickly nodded. As Arushi left the room, Jhanvi exhaled sharply and leaned back, her heartbeat a mess.

Why do my heartbeats speed up so much when his name comes up...?

She shook her head. No. She refused to think about it.

She got up, stepped out, and made her way to Aryan's room.

The moment she opened the door, her heart softened.

He was curled up on the bed, sleeping like a child—so peaceful, so gentle. Her lips curved into a small smile.

 She quietly pulled a chair beside him and sat, scrolling through her phone. But her eyes kept drifting back to him.

Again.

And again.

She sighed, unable to focus.

Finally, giving in, she moved closer. She shifted to the side of the bed, her eyes glued to his face.

"Kaun ho tum... Aryan?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"Why do you affect me this much...?"

Her hand moved on its own—slowly, carefully—as if afraid to wake him. This was the closest she had ever been to him. 

And for the first time, she noticed everything properly.

His long lashes curled against his skin.

His sharp jawline softened by sleep.

The faint stubble shadowing his chin.

The little scar near his nostril she had never seen before.

The way his hair fell messily on his forehead.

Her breath hitched.

He's... beautiful.

Without realizing, her gaze slipped down... to his lips.

Soft. Calm. A little parted.

And suddenly—she wasn't thinking.

It was like they were pulling her, inch by inch.

Her breath mingled with his.

Her lips hovered just a heartbeat away from his—

When he whispered, in his sleep, in a voice dipped in longing:

"Anjali..."

Jhanvi froze.

Her soul froze.

And within a second, she stumbled back like someone splashed cold water on her.

She shot to her feet, heart pounding violently.

Without another glance, she rushed outside.

Just near the corridor, she spotted Aahan and Arushi returning. She avoided their eyes and walked straight past them, her throat tight.

Soon she stepped into the hotel's garden, the chilly evening breeze slapping her face back to reality.

Jhanvi's POV:

What the hell, Jhanvi!?

I walked deeper into the garden, hands trembling, head spinning.

"What the fuck were you thinking!?"

My voice came out barely a whisper as I clutched my head.

"Kissing a man? Jhanvi... seriously!?"

I sat on the bench harshly, covering my face.

"And that man is married! God... what the hell is happening to me!?"

My mind felt like it was running in circles. My heart was beating faster than ever.

"I should be in jail... what I was about to do... he's mentally ill and me... m-me..."

My voice broke.

"Aahhhh! I don't know what's happening to me..."

Silence stretched for a moment.

But my stupid, messed-up mind betrayed me again.

It replayed it.

That moment.

His soft, sleepy whisper.

Anjali...

The way he said it... the longing... the pain...

I don't know why but something inside me cracked.

A small pang.

Right in the middle of my chest.

Why?

Why did it hurt?

Why did it feel like that name should've been mine?

Why did it feel like it meant something?

I shook my head desperately.

"No. No, Jhanvi. Stop it. You're overthinking... again."

But the truth was clear.

That one whispered word was enough to shake her entire soul.

AUTHOR'S POV — Rishikesh

The room was dim, cold, and painfully silent.

Dev sat on his sofa—legs spread, hands resting on the armrests—like a ruler waiting for someone to beg for mercy.

His expression? Blank... but in that blankness lived a storm.

All this... because she didn't tell him where she was going.

Just disappeared.

Walked away from him.

Without a word.

And Dev hated not knowing.

So he sent his men.

"Find out where she went."

That's all he ordered.

But the men had returned with something far bigger.

Far more dangerous.

And now they stood in front of him, shaking.

Dev didn't even look at them when he spoke.

"Bolo."

His voice was so quiet it was scarier than a scream.

One man stepped forward.

"S-Sir... Ma'am Mussoorie gayi hai... Taneja family ke saath."

Dev's jaw clenched.

So she left.

Without telling him.

He raised a brow slowly.

"Taneja?"

He knew that name.

Top industrialists.

Not friends.

Not rivals.

Just powerful enough to irritate him.

"Hmm. Continue."

The man swallowed hard.

"Sir... actually we found something else too."

Dev turned his head slightly, eyes narrowing.

"WHAT."

No patience.

No softness.

Pure steel.

The man placed an envelope before him with trembling fingers.

Dev clicked his tongue in irritation, snatched it, and ripped it open.

His eyes landed on the picture inside.

And everything in him went still.

The world.

The air.

His breath.

A wedding photo.

Her.

Jhanvi.

And a man standing beside her in a groom's attire.

Aryan Taneja.

His eye twitched.

His fingers tightened around the photo.

A suffocating silence filled the room.

Then—

"Yeh kya bakwaas hai?"

His voice dropped into a deep, deadly growl.

"Sir..." another man started, voice shaking,

"Ma'am... married hain. Aur ek child bhi hai."

Dev laughed.

But it wasn't amusement.

It was disbelief.

Madness.

Shock ripping through obsession.

"Married?"

His lips curled into an animalistic smirk.

"MY gulab? Married?"

Before anyone could answer, the operative added carefully—

"Sir... Ma'am ka real name Jhanvi nahi. Anjali hai."

Dev lifted his head sharply, eyes turning black.

"Jhooth."

A whisper.

Cold and cracked.

"Sir, it's not—"

BANG!

A man dropped dead.

Blood splattered on Dev's cheek.

Dev didn't blink.

Didn't flinch.

He just breathed slowly... dangerously.

"Aur bolo."

Another man stepped forward, scared out of his soul.

"Sir... Ma'am... apna past bhool chuki hain. Total memory loss.

voh pichle chaar saal se is hi identity mein reh rahi hain.

Exactly uss waqt se... jab aapne unhe pehli baar dekha."

Silence.

Dev's lips slowly curved into a smile.

A terrifying, too-wide smile.

Then he chuckled.

Low at first...

Then louder...

Then louder—

A manic, echoing laugh that made the whole mansion freeze.

He wiped the blood slowly from his cheek, licking the drop off his thumb.

"Toh meri gulab..."

he whispered, voice trembling with dark joy,

"...apna sab kuch bhool chuki hai."

He leaned forward, eyes burning.

"Matlab ab koi rishta... koi vow... koi pyaar...

uske liye kuch bhi nahi bacha."

He stood up slowly.

Powerfully.

Like a demon rising.

"Aur ab..."

his smirk widened,

"woh phir se CLEAN slate ban gayi."

He ripped Aryan's face out of the wedding photo.

Let it fall on the blood-soaked floor.

"Aur clean slate par naam wohi likhta hai..."

He leaned in, whispering—

"...jo sabse zyada haqdaar ho."

He turned to his men.

Eyes full of possession.

Obsession.

Madness.

"Gulab..gulab..gulab"

He said her name on repeat as if it was holly

"Waqt aagya hai tumahra Mrs.singhaniya bane ka"

A pause.

A smile.

Twisted.

Deranged.

Because for Dev...

Jhanvi leaving was a mistake.

Her past being exposed was an opportunity.

Her memory loss was proof.

Proof that she wasn't meant to belong to anyone.

Not Aryan.

Not her past.

Not destiny.

Only him.