The Rathore Mansion echoed with raised voices. Mrs. Shekhawat, venom burning in her eyes, cornered Poornima in the drawing room.

“You!” she spat, her hand trembling with rage. “You stole my son’s company, and now you sit here like a queen in another man’s house? Shameless woman!”

Before Poornima could reply, the older woman’s hand lashed out, striking her cheek with a sharp crack. Poornima staggered back, one hand on her face, tears of humiliation stinging her eyes.

“Mama!” Anaya screamed, her little body shaking with fear and anger. She ran to the phone on the table and, with trembling fingers, dialed Veeresh’s number.

“Dada,” she sobbed the moment the line connected. “The aunty slapped Mama! Please come fast!”

At Rathore Industries, Veeresh froze mid-discussion with his board members. His jaw clenched, eyes darkening.

“Adwait,” he growled, standing abruptly. “Handle the meeting. I’m leaving.”

Within minutes, his black car screeched to a halt outside the mansion. The moment he entered, his presence filled the hall like a storm. Without hesitation, he strode forward and shoved Mrs. Shekhawat back, his voice thundering.

“Dare you raise your hand on my wife again, and it will be the last thing you do!”

Mrs. Shekhawat steadied herself, eyes wide with shock but masking it with bravado. “You’ll regret this, Veeresh. I’ll see you in court!”

Veeresh’s lips curved into a dangerous smile. “Ok. Try me.” His tone was quiet, but the threat underneath it was undeniable.

She stormed out, leaving the room heavy with tension.

Veeresh turned immediately to Poornima. Her cheek was red, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. He said nothing, only guided her upstairs to his room with a firmness that allowed no argument.

“Anu,” he said gently, kneeling down to her height. “Get Mama an ice pack.”

Anaya hurried off, returning quickly. Veeresh pressed the cold pack gently to Poornima’s cheek, his touch careful, almost hesitant. He looked at Anaya and gave a small nod. “Go outside, doll. I’ll talk to Mama.”

The little girl obeyed, though reluctantly.

Silence stretched in the room, heavy and suffocating. Finally, Poornima broke it, her voice trembling. “Why did you marry me, Veeresh?”

His eyes hardened. He set the ice pack down and stood, his tall frame towering over her. “Because I gave my word to Pavan. He trusted me with you and the baby. I couldn’t break his last wish.”

Poornima’s lips trembled, but she stayed quiet, listening.

Veeresh’s tone was final, sharp as steel. “But listen carefully, Poornima. To the world, you and I are husband and wife. But between us… there is nothing. I cannot be a husband to you. Ever. You are the mother of my daughter and of Pavan’s child—that is all.”

His words cut, but they were cold truth, not cruelty. Without waiting for her reply, he turned and walked into the washroom to freshen up, leaving Poornima sitting on the edge of the bed, her heart aching with the weight of a life she had never chosen.