The morning was sharp with a pale winter light.
In the grand, echoing mansion, everything felt distant — like life had pressed a mute button over it.
Aarush moved through the hallways, his phone glued to his ear, voice clipped and cold as he barked instructions at his team.
His black suit was immaculate; his hair, carefully styled. Yet there were dark circles under his eyes, a constant tightness in his jaw.
Deadlines. Projects. Lawsuits. Meetings.
There was no room for weakness. No room for rest.
And certainly, no room for her.
Sanya.
He hadn't even realized she'd been quietly sitting on the bottom step of the staircase, her knees drawn to her chest like a forgotten child, arms wrapped around herself.
When he crossed the hallway, he nearly brushed past her — almost knocking her over — but caught himself at the last second, glancing down with a sharp, irritated frown.
"What the hell are you doing here? Sitting like that?!"
His voice sliced through the heavy silence, making her flinch.
She quickly stumbled to her feet, bowing her head.
"I—I was just... I didn't want to disturb..." she whispered, her voice so soft it barely touched the air.
Aarush scoffed under his breath, clicking his tongue.
"Right. Because you're so careful about not being a disturbance, aren't you?"
His words dripped with venom, not even looking at her properly, already walking away before the sting could settle properly.
Sanya stood frozen, blinking at the empty space he left behind.
Something burned at the back of her throat, but she swallowed it down fiercely.
No tears. Not here. Not now.
She turned mechanically and padded toward the kitchen — her bare feet making no sound against the marble.
Maybe some tea would help.
Maybe silence would wrap her safely again.
But the quiet didn't stay kind.
The heavy sound of a door slamming upstairs echoed through the house, vibrating through her ribs.
Followed by another angry call. Another explosion of frustration.
She made his tea anyway. Ginger, the way she had once overheard him say he preferred.
When she brought it upstairs, she hesitated at his office door.
From inside, his voice thundered:
"Get it DONE! I don't want excuses, I want RESULTS!"
Sanya pressed her forehead lightly against the wall.
Breathing in.
Breathing out.
Maybe today wasn't the right day.
Maybe tomorrow would be better.
She placed the tea silently on a small table outside his door — like a ghost leaving offerings at a shrine — and turned away without a sound.
The house felt like a cavern, cold and cavernous, with every step echoing in her mind long after she had taken it. Sanya wandered through the rooms as if searching for something, but each space was as empty as the last.
When she reached the window overlooking the garden, her fingers lightly brushed the cool glass. The world outside was warm with the late afternoon sun, while inside, everything seemed hollow. The air felt thick, suffocating, like she couldn't take in enough of it to breathe properly.
She pressed her forehead against the window, staring at the manicured lawn below. In the distance, the hedges were trimmed so neatly, the roses and lilies blooming with precision, their vibrant colors a sharp contrast to the bleakness that had settled in her chest. She thought of how, in the past, she had looked at the house with a sense of awe, imagining how lucky she would feel to be a part of it. How naïve she had been.
Now, it was just a cage.
It wasn't even the grandness of the house that hurt anymore; it was the way she had started to feel invisible in every corner. How no matter what she did, no matter how quietly she moved through his life, Aarush remained indifferent. His coldness had carved her heart into something unrecognizable, something she didn't want to see.
And yet, she couldn't leave.
Every time she thought about walking away, the pain of betrayal twisted deeper, burrowing itself into her soul. She couldn't escape the guilt. The weight of the broken trust — because what was she supposed to do when he hated her? When every single day felt like she was living on borrowed time, unsure of when she would truly break?
Aarush's office door slammed open, startling Sanya from her thoughts. She quickly wiped her face and hurried to step away from the window. Her heart began to race at the thought of facing him again.
He emerged, his brow furrowed in frustration, his eyes dark with the anger that had been simmering all afternoon. She couldn't meet his gaze directly, so she lowered her head and stayed still, trying to shrink into herself.
"What are you doing standing there like a statue?" Aarush snapped, his voice like ice.
Sanya didn't reply. She didn't know what to say anymore.
"You think you're so damn invisible, don't you?" he continued, his words like arrows. "Just because I don't say much, you think I don't notice?"
The words stung. But it wasn't the words that hurt the most. It was the way he said them, like she was just an inconvenience, a burden to be dealt with.
Aarush looked at her with disdain, his expression hardening further. "Why do you even bother acting like you care about anything?" His voice dripped with sarcasm. "You're just playing pretend. Just like you always have. Pretending to be someone you're not."
Sanya's breath hitched. She wasn't playing pretend. But no matter what she said, nothing would change. Nothing ever did.
She didn't even try to defend herself. The words had already cut through her so many times before. So she stayed silent, her heart sinking further into the pit it had been in since that first night — the night when everything had shattered.
Aarush paced back and forth, frustration dripping from his every movement. "You know, I'm so damn sick of this," he muttered under his breath. "I'm sick of dealing with your... your fake apologies, your fake smiles. I didn't bring you here for you to play games with me."
Sanya felt her hands trembling at her sides. She wanted to scream, to argue, to do anything but feel this helpless. But she held it all in. Held it in like she always did.
"Maybe I should've just left you at that goddamn party," Aarush spat out suddenly, his words burning her like fire. "Let you deal with the mess your father created on your own. Let you handle the consequences of what you did."
Her breath caught. Her father. She knew what he was implying, even though the pain of it stabbed through her every time.
He was right. It was her father. Her father's betrayal. His mistakes. But she wasn't responsible for them. She didn't deserve to be punished for what had happened all those years ago.
But Aarush... Aarush saw her as nothing more than an extension of her father's sins. And there was no escaping it. No redemption. Not for her.
"Get out of my sight," Aarush ordered, his tone harsh, but she didn't move.
Sanya looked at him for a moment longer, as if hoping there was something she could say, some magic words that would make him see her differently. But she knew deep down, there was nothing.
Without a word, she turned and walked away, her heart like lead in her chest.
As she walked down the hallway, the sound of his footsteps pounding behind her made her heart race. But she didn't turn around.
She couldn't.
Aarush had never seen her. Not really. Not the real her.
To him, she was just the reason his family was destroyed. To him, she was just a mistake.
That night, as Sanya lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, she thought of all the things she could never say. The words that never left her lips.
Would things have been different if she had known him before all of this? Before the hate, before the brokenness?
But it was too late for questions. Too late for answers.
And so, in the silence of the night, she cried. Not loud. Not with sobs. Just quiet tears that fell in the dark.