Chapter 14 – Questions That Wouldn’t Rest

“I want to ask my parents,” Poornima said finally.

Her voice was quiet, but firm.

Veeresh looked at her for a long moment, as if measuring how much strength she had left. Then he nodded once.

“Yes,” he said. “You can go now.”

She turned toward the door.

“Tomorrow,” he added calmly, as if it were already decided, “I’ll come and pick you up.”

She stopped but didn’t look back.

“This is your house,” he continued, his voice steady. “And I am your husband. Your best friend. A mafia man. A businessman.”

The words followed her like shadows.

She said nothing.

Poornima walked out of the penthouse, down the elevator, into the night—her heart pounding, her mind screaming. By the time she reached her parents’ house, exhaustion had wrapped around her like a second skin.

She closed the door behind her softly.

This house felt different now.

Familiar, yet distant.

She sat on the edge of her bed, her handbag slipping from her fingers to the floor. Her thoughts raced, colliding, refusing to settle.

Husband.

The word echoed painfully in her head.

When?

How?

Why was she never told?

She replayed every memory of her childhood—family gatherings, festivals, quiet conversations. Had there been signs she missed? Glances exchanged behind her back? Decisions made without her consent?

Her chest tightened.

Did they decide my life without asking me?

Then her thoughts drifted—unwanted, dangerous—back to Veeresh.

The way he looked at her.

The way he said you’re mine—not arrogantly, but like someone claiming the only truth he knew.

The way he broke when he spoke about her being the only person who could reach him.

Her heart ached.

She was angry at him. Furious, even. The way he dragged her away, the way he spoke to her, the way he used power instead of words.

And yet…

He had always been there.

From scraped knees to broken dreams. From silent support to fierce protection. He had trusted her with the darkest parts of his life—things no one else knew.

If this is true… she wondered, tears filling her eyes, then why did you hurt me so much?

She lay down, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep.

What hurt the most wasn’t the revelation.

It was the uncertainty.

If he truly was her husband—

why did he let her feel abandoned?

Why did he call her this woman?

Why did he push her away only to pull her back like this?

Her heart was already his.

That truth frightened her more than anything else.

Tomorrow, she would ask her parents.

Tomorrow, everything would change.

But tonight, Poornima lay awake in her childhood room—caught between love and betrayal, past and present—holding questions that refused to let her rest.

And somewhere across the city, a man waited, certain she would come back…

while she wondered whether she should.