The room was quiet, the children already asleep. Poornima had just finished tidying up when Veeresh caught her wrist and spun her around, his eyes dark, burning.

“Poornima,” he said, voice rough, “I am not what Pavan was. Don’t expect me to be soft or patient like him. But one thing…” He cupped her face firmly, his thumb pressing her jaw to make her look at him. “…one thing you can mark in your heart—I will never leave you. You are my jaan.”

Her lips trembled, but her gaze didn’t falter. She placed her palm over his heart, feeling its wild beats.

“You don’t have to be him, Veeresh. You have already created your own place in my heart. And I love you. I love you, Veeresh.”

His jaw tightened, emotion flickering in his eyes before his smirk returned.

“Say it again.”

“I love you.”

“Louder.” He pressed his forehead to hers, his breath hot.

“I love you, Veeresh!” she whispered with all her heart.

Something snapped in him. His lips crushed hers, deep and fierce, devouring every word she had just confessed. She gasped, but he swallowed her sound, pushing her against the wall.

“Don’t you dare think of divorce again,” he growled against her mouth. “You belong to me. Understand?”

Poornima nodded, breathless.

“Yes…”

“Say it.”

“I belong to you, Veeresh.”

Satisfied, he lifted her in his arms, carrying her to the bed. He laid her down, hovering over her, his eyes blazing with possession.

“Tonight, I’ll remind you again and again whose wife you are. No Pavan, no Ritika… only me in your heart, your soul, your body.”

Her fingers gripped his shirt as she whispered, trembling but smiling through her tears,

“Only you, Veeresh… my forever.”

That night, he claimed her again and again—raw, intense, dominant, yet filled with an unspoken tenderness. Every kiss, every mark he left on her body was his way of sealing the promise: she was his, and he was hers.

And Poornima, as she gave herself wholly, knew deep inside—she had found both her darkness and her light in him.