Meanwhile;

Jhanvi remained frozen on the cold floor, her spirit battered but not yet broken. The sound of heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway before the oak door creaked open.

 Dev walked in, a dark, satisfied smile playing on his lips. In his arms, he carried a heavy garment protected by a dust cover.

He crouched down to her level, forcing her chin up with his cold fingers. 

"Tabse yahin baithi ho? Khair, achha hai... yahin baithi raho. Par nikalne ki koshish mat karna jab tak main na kahun."

Jhanvi's fists clenched, her nails digging into her palms. As Dev's gaze traveled to her neck, his smirk widened into something predatory. 

He slowly pushed her hair aside, exposing the dark, bruised mark he had left. Jhanvi flinched violently at his touch, but he only chuckled, looking at the bruise as if it were a trophy.

"Dekho... meri mohabbat kitni gehri hai tumpe," he whispered, his thumb grazing the wounded skin.

Jhanvi looked at him, her eyes brimming with tears of rage.

 "Ise mohabbat nahi kehte, Dev... ise zabardasti kehte hain."

Dev let out a low, psychotic chuckle, his eyes dancing with madness.

 "Nahi, Gulaab... ise zabardasti nahi kehte. Ise mera 'haq' kehte hain. Mera pyaar kehte hain."

Jhanvi's expression shifted to one of pure disgust. Dev leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous rasp.

 "Aisi kaatil nigaahon se mat ghooro mujhe, Gulaab... warna main apna bacha-kucha control bhi kho baithunga."

Jhanvi snapped her head away, refusing to look at him. Dev stood up, tossing the dust-covered dress onto the bed. 

"Chalo, main yeh dress le kar aaya hoon. Isse pehen lo, humein kahin jaana hai."

Jhanvi raised her eyebrows, her voice hollow. "Kahan?"

"Apne pyaar ka jashn manane," he replied, stroking her hair with a sickening gentleness.

 "Humari shaadi ke liye party rakhi hai.Mere ke kuch 'khaas' logon se milwana hai tumhe."

Jhanvi looked down at the floor, but as Dev turned to leave, a sudden spark of defiance flared in her chest.

"Kamaal hai na, Singhania?" she called out. Dev paused in his tracks, his back still turned. 

"Din raat tum 'pyaar-mohabbat' aur 'ibadat' ki mala japte rehte ho... lekin kya tumhe inme se ek bhi lafz ka asli matlab pata hai?"

Dev slowly turned around, his eyes narrowing as he saw her staring directly at him.

"Nahi pata na? Kaise pata hoga," Jhanvi continued, her voice gaining strength. 

"Tum jaisa insaan sirf logon ko qaid kar sakta hai, unpar zor zabardasti kar sakta hai... par pyaar? Che!"

Dev's face darkened, the muscles in his jaw ticking. "Bahut bol rahi ho, Gulaab."

Jhanvi chuckled bitterly, forcing herself to stand up and face him. 

"Kyun? Galat kya keh rahi hoon main? Sachai yahi hai ki tumhare liye 'pyaar' sirf ek zidd hai."

Dev growled, taking a threatening step toward her. 

"Tum jaan-boojh kar, kar rahi ho yeh sab, hai na? Mere sabr ka imtehaan le rahi ho?"

"Bada pyaar karte ho na mujhse?" Jhanvi challenged, crossing her arms.

 "Toh chalo, ek test lete hain. Mere kuch sawalon ka jawab do."

Dev raised an eyebrow, a mocking smirk returning to his lips. He leaned against the pillar, looking amused. 

"Bas itni si baat? Pucho, Gulaab. Jo puchna hai pucho."

"Theek hai," Jhanvi said, her voice sharp. 

"Batao, mujhe baarish aachi lagti hai ya sardi ki dhoop? Mere bachpan ka sabse bada darr kya hai? Mujhe khane mein teekha pasand hai ya meetha? Meri pasandida kitab kaunsi hai? Aur meri aankhon mein jab aansu aate hain, toh unka sabse bada kaaran kya hota hai?"

Dev's smirk slowly faded. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

Jhanvi let out a mocking laugh that cut deeper than any blade.

 "Aaya bada 'pyaar' karne wala! Tumhe meri pasand-na-pasand tak nahi pata, aur tum kehte ho tum meri 'ibadat' karte ho?"

She stepped closer to him, her eyes burning with a fire he hadn't seen before—the fire of a woman who had found her weapon.

"Ek cheez bata deti hoon, Singhania... Aurat agar pyaar karegi, toh woh Radha jaisa karegi... 

par agar wahi aurat nafrat par utar aaye, toh woh Draupadi jaisi nafrat karegi.

Aur yaad rakhna... nafrat mein ek aurat se aaj tak koi nahi jeet paya hai. Tumne mera jism kaid kiya hai, par meri nafrat tumhe barbaad kar degi."

Dev stared at her, his ego bruised and his rage simmering.

 For the first time, he saw not a "Gulaab," but a storm that threatened to burn his entire empire down.

Jhanvi didn't wait for Dev's response. She walked past him, deliberately pushing her shoulder against his as she exited the room. 

Outside, two maids were already waiting, their heads bowed in a rehearsed, robotic silence.

 They guided her to a lavish dressing suite where a deep red gown was laid out, shimmering under the chandelier like fresh blood.

The maids moved with clinical precision, pinning her hair, applying bold makeup to hide her tear-stained face, and fastening the heavy silk of the gown. 

Jhanvi remained still, like a marble statue being carved into something she was not.

When the maids finally finished, they bowed and retreated, clicking the door shut behind them.

Jhanvi stood alone, staring at the stranger in the mirror. 

The red gown was breathtaking, molding to her body perfectly, but to her, it felt like a shroud. Her eyes, darkened by kohl, looked hollow. 

She reached up and touched the cold diamond necklace at her throat, which barely managed to hide the bruise Dev had left on her skin.

A low, dry chuckle escaped her lips—a sound devoid of any joy.

"Mere jism ko toh jeet liya hai tumne, Dev Singhania... par meri rooh tak tum kabhi nahi pahunch paoge," she whispered to her reflection.

She felt a strange, cold power settling over her. If she was to be a prisoner in this house of mirrors, she wouldn't be a submissive one. 

She would walk into his party, she would meet his "guests," but she would carry her hatred like a hidden blade.

The grand chandelier of the mansion cast flickering shadows as Jhanvi descended the staircase. The heavy silk of her red gown hissed against the marble steps, sounding like a warning.

At the bottom of the stairs, Dev stood waiting. He wasn't wearing his usual cold mask; 

he looked enchanted, his eyes scanning her from head to toe with a hunger that made the air turn cold.

 He looked like a collector admiring his rarest diamond.

As she reached the final step, he didn't reach for her hand. Instead, he leaned in close, his breath ghosting over her ear.

"Tumhe baarish pasand hai, Gulaab," he whispered, his voice a low, jagged rasp.

Jhanvi froze. Her heart skipped a beat, and she looked at him, her eyes wide with a sudden, sharp shock.

"Tumhe sardi ki dhoop se zyada barsaat ki mitti ki khushboo pasand hai," he continued, a slow, psychotic smirk spreading across his lips.

 "Aur tumhara sabse bada darr? Tumhara sabse bada dar andhera..

Khane mein tumhe teekha itna pasand hai ki tumhari aankhon mein paani aa jaye, par tum phir bhi rukti nahi. Aur tumhari pasandida kitab?

Odyssey jo tumne us din bookstore mein chhodi thi... maine uske har panna padha hai."

Jhanvi stepped back, her breath hitching. "Tumhe... tumhe yeh sab kaise pata? Maine toh kabhi kisi ko nahi bataya."

Dev let out a dry, haunting chuckle. He took a step toward her, his presence looming, suffocating.

"Maine kaha tha na Gulaab... tum mere liye ek kitab ho jise maine pichle chaar saalon se har roz, har ghante, har minute padha hai. Tumhe lagta hai stalking galat hai?

 Nahi... yeh toh 'research' hai. Maine tumhari har muskurahat ki wajah dhoondi hai, aur tumhare har aansu ka hisaab rakha hai."

He leaned in even closer, his eyes dancing with a manic, villainous light.

"Tumhe lagta hai koi anjaan tumhare bare mein itna jaante huye bhi tumse door reh sakta hai? Main tumhara saaya hoon, Jhanvi.

 Main tumhari rooh ke us kone mein bhi baitha hoon jahan tum khud jaane se darti ho. Tumhe mujhse nafrat karni hai? Shauk se karo. 

Par yaad rakhna... tumhari nafrat ki har wajah bhi mujhe zubani yaad hai. Tum mujhse kabhi nahi jeet sakti, kyunki maine tumhare sawalon ke jawab tabhi likh liye the jab tumne unhe sochna bhi shuru nahi kiya tha."

He straightened his cuffs, his expression shifting back to that terrifyingly calm dominance.

"Chalo ab. Smile karte huye bahar chalo. Duniya ko dikhana hai ki Singhania ki pasand kitni la-jawab hai."

Jhanvi felt a cold shiver run down her spine. He didn't just know her routines; he had dissected her soul. 

Meanwhile;

Aryan returned to the hotel room like a ghost, his movements mechanical, his eyes devoid of the light that had briefly sparked when he dressed for Jhanvi. 

The moment he stepped through the door, Aahan and Arushi were on him like a whirlwind.

"Bhai! Kya hua? kya baat hui?" Aahan asked, leaning in.

 "Did she remember anything, Aryan?" Arushi's voice was desperate for a miracle.

"SHUT UP-JUST SHUT UP!!"

The roar echoed through the suite, sharp and jagged, silencing them instantly. Aryan didn't look at them.

 He slumped onto the couch, his head falling into his hands as if the weight of his own skull was too much to bear.

"Maine kaha tha... maine kaha tha humein yeh nahi karna chahiye," he whispered, his voice cracking like dry earth. 

"Kuch nahi hua. Sirf humari umeedon tooti hai aur."

He looked up, his eyes bloodshot, swimming in a sea of unshed tears. The sophisticated man from the cafe was gone, replaced by the broken shell of a lover who had been fighting a war with time for four long years.

"Tumhe lagta hai yeh ek game hai? Ki main ek purana sweater pehnu, glasses lagaun, aur woh bhaagti hui meri baahon mein aa jayegi aur kahegi "Aryan mujhe sab yaad agya"?"

 He let out a hollow, painful laugh.

"Maine uski aankhon mein dekha... Wahan voh gumnami thi jo meri jaan ki ankhon maine kabhi nhi hoti thi?'"

He gripped his hair, pulling at the roots.

"Tumhe pata hai ek zinda insaan ki yaadon mein marne ka dard kya hota hai? Anjali meri rooh hai. Par Jhanvi? Jhanvi ke liye main sirf ek bhatka hua musafir hoon!"

He turned to Aahan, his voice trembling with a poetic, raw agony.

"Mohabbat mein log marte hain, Aahan... par main har roz ji-ji kar marta hoon. Main use woh dard nahi dena chahta jo main seh raha hoon.

 Agar uska ateet use takleef deta hai, toh main use voh dard nhi dunga. Main nahi banna chahta uski aankhon ka woh aansu jo purani baaton ko yaad karke girta hai. Agar woh Jhanvi bankar khush hai, toh main Aryan bankar barbaad hone ko taiyaar hoon. Par use majboor mat karo... use Anjali banne ke liye majboor mat karo. Kyunki jab woh mujhe ek anjaan ki tarah dekhti hai na, toh mere seene mein ek nahi, hazaar khanjar utarte hain."

He leaned back, staring at the ceiling as a single tear finally escaped, tracing a path down his temple.

"Woh meri Radha thi... par aaj mujhe mehsoos hua ki Krishna ke paas toh phir bhi baasuri thi apni tanhayi baantne ke liye. 

Mere paas toh sirf uska khamosh chehra hai, jo mujhse har pal poochta hai ki main uska hath kyu chorda.

 I don't want to hurt her memories anymore. If forgetting me is the price for her smile, then let her forget. Par mujhe mat kaho ki main phir se uske samne ek tamasha banu."

Aahan and Arushi stood in stunned silence, the air in the room heavy with the scent of a love that was too deep for the world to handle.

They realized then that Aryan wasn't just fighting for his wife; he was mourning her while she was standing right in front of him.