The moment Anjali saw Aryan, the "lifeless doll" persona shattered. She didn't just walk; she scrambled away from the Mandap, her tied gathbandhan ripping apart as she moved toward her husband.

One of Dev's guards lunged to grab her arm, but he never made contact.

Aryan moved like a blur of lethal shadow. He caught the guard by the throat, his fingers sinking into the man's windpipe, and slammed his head into the marble pillar with a sickening thwack.

Blood sprayed across the white floral decorations as the guard slumped to the floor, unconscious or dead.

Dev didn't flinch. Instead, he began to chuckle. The chuckle grew into a full, manic laugh that echoed through the blood-stained hall.

As his remaining guards reached for their holsters, Dev raised a blood-spattered hand, silencing them.

"Ise main maarunga," Dev whispered, his eyes dancing with a feverish light. He stepped off the Mandap, crunching over the broken glass and flower petals.

The two men stood six feet apart-the psychopath and the protector.

"Aakhir aa hi gaya hero," Dev mocked, wiping a stray drop of Mr. Bisht's blood from his cheek.

"Maanna padega, Taneja... kya entry li hai hmm... lekin thodi der aur ruk jata toh teri anjali meri jhanvi ho jati"

Aryan's grip on his gun didn't waver, but his voice was a low, guttural growl that felt like it came from the depths of hell.

"Teri 'Jhanvi' kabhi thi hi nhi, Singhania," Aryan spat, his eyes fixed on Dev's throat.

"Voh humesha se mera pyaar..meri jaan..meri anjali hai..aur apne pyaaar ke liye mai kisi bhi had tak jaunga"

Dev took a step closer, his smirk widening into something demonic.

"Chal phir marne ke liye taiyar hoja"

Aryan let out a dry, dangerous laugh. He tucked the gun into his waistband, slowly rolling up his sleeves, revealing arms corded with tension.

He wasn't going to just shoot him; he wanted to feel Dev's bones break.

"Galat bol diya singhania kyuki aaj mai nhi tu marega...aur aaj main tujhe bataunga ki jab ek baap aur ek pati apni aukaat pe aata hai, toh tere jaisa kachra kaise saaf kiya jata hai."

Dev's eyes flared. "Teri maut mere haath likhi hai, Taneja!"

"Teri maut toh us din likhi gayi thi jis din tu ne meri biwi ki taraf aankh uthakar dekha tha," Aryan roared, his composure finally snapping.

Dev lunged, pulling a hidden blade from his sleeve, but Aryan was ready.

He ducked the swing and landed a thunderous punch into Dev's ribs, the sound of breaking bone echoing through the silent room.

The fight was no longer a duel; it was a slaughter. Aryan fought with a primal, raw energy, fueled by four years of suppressed agony.

He caught Dev's wrist, twisting it until the knife clattered to the floor, and began raining blows on Dev's face.

CRACK. "Yeh us dard ke liye jo tu ne meri biwi ko diya!" CRACK. "Aur yeh..." Aryan grabbed Dev by the hair, slamming his knee into his chest,

"...yeh mere pyaar ke liye"

Dev spat blood, laughing through the pain.

Aryan grabbed a heavy brass lamp from the side and shattered it over Dev's head.

The air in the hall was thick with the copper tang of blood and the acrid smoke from the dying Havan fire.

Dev spat a glob of crimson onto the white marble, his face a distorted mask of bruises and madness. He wasn't just a businessman anymore; he was a cornered animal with nothing to lose.

As Aryan moved in for another blow, Dev didn't retreat. He lunged forward, catching Aryan off guard by slamming his forehead into Aryan's nose.

A sickening crunch echoed. Aryan staggered back, blood instantly masking his vision.

"kya hua hero?bus thak gaya" Dev hissed, his voice a jagged rasp.

He grabbed a heavy wooden chair and shattered it over Aryan's shoulder. Aryan hit the floor hard.

Anjali screamed, "ARYAN!" She tried to rush forward, but Reeva held her back, knowing that getting in the middle would be a death sentence.

Dev didn't give Aryan a second to breathe. He kicked Aryan squarely in the ribs, sending him sliding across the floor.

He followed up by grabbing Aryan by the collar and hauling him up, slamming him repeatedly against the blood-stained Mandap pillar.

"TUJHE KYA LAGA TU..MUJHSE..DEV SINGHANIA SE JEETEGA HAAN!!" Dev roared, landing a brutal hook that split Aryan's lip.

Dev grabbed Aryan's head and smashed it against the edge of the wooden altar. Aryan's world spun.

The pain was blinding, and for a second, his strength flickered. Dev pinned him down, his knees crushing Aryan's chest, his hands wrapping around Aryan's throat.

"Dekh-dekh apni biwi ko ek aakhri baar," Dev choked out, his eyes bulging with psychotic glee.

"Kyuki ab main tujhe wahin bhejunga jahan se tu wapas nahi aa payega. Teri beti anaath hogi, aur teri biwi... meri rani ban kar rahegi."

Aryan's vision started to go black at the edges. He could hear Anjali's frantic sobs and Dev's heavy, triumphant breathing.

But then, he felt something cold against his hand-the heavy brass Lota (holy water pot) that had rolled off the Mandap.

Memory flashed through his mind: Advika's face, Anjali's laugh, the four years of hell he had endured.

"Meri beti... anaath nahi hogi..." Aryan wheezed.

With a sudden burst of adrenaline, Aryan swung the brass pot with everything he had, slamming it into the side of Dev's temple.

The impact was hollow and heavy. Dev's grip loosened as he groaned in agony.

Aryan didn't stop. He bucked his hips, throwing the heavier man off him. He scrambled to his feet, gasping for air, and tackled Dev into the center of the Mandap,

right into the smoldering embers of the holy fire.

"AUR NA MERI BIWI..TERI HOGI" Aryan roared, grabbing Dev's face and shoving it toward the heat.

Aryan grabbed a heavy decorative chain hanging from the ceiling and wrapped it around Dev's neck, jerking him upward.

"kutte ki maut marega tu!" Aryan spat, his voice sounding like it was being dragged over gravel.

"Jis aag ko sakshi maan kar tune meri biwi ko chuna tha... wahi aag aaj tera kafan banegi!"

Dev struggled, clawing at the chain, his face turning a dark, bruised purple. He tried to reach for the knife on the floor, his fingers inches away.

As Dev's fingers grazed the cold steel of the knife, Aryan let go of the chain. He didn't want to kill him like a common animal;

he wanted to look into the eyes of the man who had stolen four years of his life.

Dev collapsed, gasping for air, his lungs burning. Aryan didn't spare him another glance.

His entire universe had shrunk down to the trembling woman standing amidst the wreckage of the Mandap.

He turned, his breath coming in ragged hitches, his vision blurred by the blood dripping from his brow. He began to move toward her,

but the remaining bodyguards, desperate to protect their fallen master, moved to intercept him.

Aryan didn't even feel the pain of their strikes.

He was a man possessed. He caught the first guard's arm, snapping it with a sickening pop, and sent him flying into the wall.

He ducked under a heavy swing from the second, delivering a flurry of punches that dropped the man instantly.

The third guard tried to draw a weapon, but Aryan was on him like a predator, slamming him into the floor until the man went limp.

Finally, there was nothing between them.

Aryan stood five feet away, his chest heaving, his expensive shirt torn and soaked in blood. He stood there, frozen, his heart hammering against his ribs.

He still believed she was "Jhanvi"-the girl who didn't know his name, the girl who had looked at him with fear just days ago. He was terrified that if he reached out, she would flinch away.

"Anjali..." he whispered, the name sounding like a broken prayer.

But she didn't flinch.

With a sob that tore through the silence of the hall, Anjali sprinted across the blood-stained marble. She didn't care about her wounded feet or the carnage around them.

She threw herself into his arms with such force that Aryan had to stumble back to catch her.

Aryan's world exploded. He felt her warmth, the familiar scent of her skin that had haunted his dreams for years, and the frantic beat of her heart against his chest.

His arms, shaking with adrenaline and exhaustion, wrapped around her waist, pulling her so close that there was no space left between them.

He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his tears finally falling, hot and unrestrained.

For a heartbeat, the four years of agony, the mourning, and the loneliness vanished. She was here. She was real.

But as Aryan squeezed his eyes shut, savoring the miracle of her touch, Anjali's gaze flickered over his shoulder.

Through the haze of her own tears, she saw a shadow move. Dev, fueled by a psychotic, death-defying spite, had crawled to his feet.

His eyes were wide and bloodshot, fixed on Aryan's unprotected back. In his hand, the silver knife gleamed with a lethal, cold light.

He didn't scream. He didn't warn them.

He lunged, the knife aimed directly for the center of Aryan's back.

Anjali felt the shift in the air. She saw the madness in Dev's eyes. In that split second, she didn't think about her own safety.

She only thought about the man who had died a thousand deaths for her.

She tightened her grip on Aryan's neck, using her last ounce of strength to spin him around in the embrace, putting her own back to the monster.

As the blade moved through the air, she pressed her face into Aryan's chest and whispered the words he had waited a lifetime to hear.

"I-i love you, Aryan," she breathed, her voice cracking with emotion.

"Humesha se...humesha ke liye"