The soft clink of porcelain echoed in the vast living room as the butler announced,
"Madam Kareena has arrived."
Aarush, standing by the tall windows overlooking the garden, didn't immediately turn. His mind was still somewhere else—caught between Sanya's wounded arm and the tight knot forming in his chest.
He barely masked his expression before turning around, slipping into the cold, composed mask he wore so well.
Kareena Shah strode in like she owned the place.
Elegant. Immaculate. Dressed in a tailored designer dress that screamed old money and new ambition. A diamond-studded bracelet sparkled on her wrist as she lifted a hand airily, her blood-red nails catching the light.
"Aarush, darling," she purred, her voice thick with fake affection. "You look thinner. Are you not taking care of yourself?"
Aarush gave her a tight, polite smile. "Busy days, that's all."
Madam Kareena air-kissed the air near his cheeks, her perfume clouding the space between them—strong, cloying, expensive. She perched herself gracefully on the edge of the ivory settee, crossing one leg over the other, every movement carefully calculated.
That's when her sharp gaze slid to the side—and landed on Sanya.
Sanya had just quietly entered, clutching a tray with tea and snacks, her bandaged arm barely hidden beneath her simple kurta sleeve. She moved carefully, her steps light, her eyes cast downward like she always did when strangers were around. She wasn't here to speak—only to serve and disappear.
But Kareena's lips curled into a sneer.
"And who's this?" she asked, voice coated in sugar and venom.
Sanya bowed her head slightly, murmuring, "Good afternoon, ma'am."
Kareena didn't hide the disdain in her eyes as she scanned her from head to toe. Every inch of her screamed judgment—the plainness of Sanya's clothes, the modest way she carried herself, even the faint scratch visible on her arm. To Kareena, it was all unforgivable.
She clicked her tongue loudly, making sure Aarush heard. "Is this… the charity project you married?"
The words slapped the air like a whip.
Sanya stiffened, her hands tightening around the tray for a moment, but she said nothing. She simply placed the tray on the table, her head bowed lower.
Aarush said nothing either.
He stood there—silent.
Watching.
Kareena smiled sweetly, but her eyes glinted with cruelty. "Oh, Aarush, darling. You always had such taste...and now, look at this. Bringing a nobody like her into our family. She looks like the help."
Sanya's fingers curled into fists at her sides, digging into the fabric of her kurta. Her heart hammered painfully against her ribs, but she held her ground, swallowing the hurt that burned like acid in her throat.
She didn't look up. Didn't defend herself.
She was used to it.
Used to being treated like she was less.
But what she wasn't used to… was the crushing silence coming from Aarush.
He didn't move.
Didn't say a word.
Didn't stop Kareena.
Didn't even glance at Sanya.
As if her humiliation didn't matter.
As if she didn't matter.
Kareena chuckled lightly, taking a dainty sip of her tea. "Oh well. I suppose even kings sometimes make mistakes, hmm? Perhaps you'll come to your senses soon, darling."
Sanya turned, her movements slow and deliberate, retreating from the room without a sound. Her feet felt heavier with every step, but she didn't let it show. She wouldn't break—not here, not in front of them.
But behind her, her soul shattered in tiny, invisible pieces.
As she disappeared down the hallway, Aarush finally exhaled, his jaw tightening imperceptibly.
He didn't look after her.
Didn't call her back.
He didn't realize that silence, sometimes, cuts deeper than words ever could.
And somewhere in the back of his mind—a place he refused to touch—a voice whispered:
"You are becoming the very thing you once hated."
But he drowned it out. He drowned it all out.
Because hate was easier than regret.
Kareena (Aarush's aunt) knows the whole truth — that Sanya is innocent,
But Kareena herself is guilty because she had an affair with Sanya's father in the past,
And she wants to keep the truth hidden,
So she lets Aarush continue hating Sanya without correcting him.
This makes Kareena an even darker, more selfish villain — pretending to support Aarush, while secretly using his hatred to protect herself.
Here's how I would continue the scene, layering in this new secret:
---
As the door clicked softly behind Sanya, Kareena leaned back against the settee, an icy smile curving her lips.
Aarush poured himself a drink from the crystal decanter, his knuckles white around the glass.
"You're being too soft on her, Aarush," Kareena murmured, swirling the tea in her cup lazily. "She deserves worse for what she did."
Aarush's voice was hollow. "Don't worry. She'll get what she deserves."
Kareena's smile widened—but inside, a thin line of sweat prickled along her back.
Good, she thought bitterly.
Keep hating her. Keep blaming her.
Because if he ever knew the real story—the twisted, shameful truth buried in the ashes of the past—he wouldn't just hate Sanya.
He would destroy Kareena too.
Her fingers tightened around the delicate teacup, cracking the porcelain slightly at the rim.
Years ago, Kareena had slipped quietly into Sanya's father's life—a man drunk on wealth and power, too arrogant to see the wreckage he left behind. Their affair had been brief, sordid, full of whispered promises that meant nothing. When it ended, Kareena had been humiliated. Cast aside.
And then—almost like a cruel joke—the tragedy had happened.
The fire.
The deaths.
The blame falling squarely onto Sanya's innocent shoulders.
It was too perfect to ruin.
Aarush's grief and hatred had been a shield, protecting Kareena from ever being questioned.
She sipped her tea, masking her unease with a soft sigh. "She's a stain on your life, Aarush. A parasite. You're doing right by making her suffer."
Aarush didn't reply immediately. He stared out the window, his jaw tight, his shoulders tense.
"I won't forgive her," he said finally, voice like iron. "Never."
Kareena smiled sweetly at him—the perfect loving aunt.
"Good boy."
But deep down, her heart twisted in fear.
Because hate was a dangerous thing.
And one day, if the truth ever clawed its way out of the shadows...
Aarush's hate might not stay pointed at Sanya.
It might turn against her.