chapter 5

Dharam was furious when he got to know what had happened at the port. Everyone called it an accident, but accidents didn't just happen. They were created. Planned. And this one felt exactly like that. Only a handful of people knew the route, yet the boat had sunk for the first time in years. The weather had been clear, the boat had been fine, and still every man on board had died.

He let out a sharp exhale and took a long drink of water before looking at Raghav and Vihaan. "There is a rat in the maze," he said.

Both men froze.

"You sure?" Vihaan asked.

Dharam nodded. "How else do you explain it? Our boat sank, and a pendrive containing all the data about our routes vanished. These two things are connected. Find out who did it."

His eyes drifted toward the window. It was almost midnight.

"Did you pick Mira up?" he asked.

"Yeah." Vihaan rolled his eyes. "She's at home. We should leave before she starts questioning things again. I think Mumbai air has gotten into her head. She has a tongue now."

"Then make sure that tongue doesn't speak words that put her in danger. Or us."

Dharam leaned back in his chair and unlocked his phone.

"She's your wife, not mine," Vihaan muttered. "You keep yours in line before Papa finds out."

Raghav, who had been quietly listening, tilted his head. "She'll go back to the village anyway, right? So why is she a problem? It's only a couple more days."

The tension in the room eased slightly. He wasn't wrong. She would leave soon.

At least, that was what they thought.

---

A blanket was wrapped around Mira as she sat on the couch watching the news and eating a stuffed paratha. The moment she heard the main door open, her head snapped toward it.

"Bhabhi."

Of course. Vihaan.

And behind him stood his brother.

Her husband.

"Why are you so late?" she blurted out as she got to her feet. The blanket slipped from her shoulders. "It's almost midnight."

Dharam's eyes settled on her. Yet she was speaking to Vihaan, not him.

"We've already eaten," Dharam said before Vihaan could answer. "We're going to sleep."

Mira's gaze immediately shifted toward him.

"But... I cooked for you."

"We didn't ask you to."

He bent down to remove his shoes.

For a second Mira simply stared at him. Was this man serious?

"You could have told me at least," she said. "It takes time to cook. Now all the food will go to waste. I was waiting for you."

His jaw clenched. He was already furious because of the shipment. Now this.

"Sorry, Bhabhi," Vihaan quickly cut in. "We forgot to tell you. But you could've called us."

Mira looked at him.

"Called you?"

"Yeah."

"How?"

Vihaan frowned.

"I don't have either of your numbers," she said. "How exactly was I supposed to call anyone?"

Silence settled over the room.

Heavy silence.

Their marriage was breaking apart before it had even begun.

Dharam found himself speechless because somewhere, somehow, this was his fault. And he knew it.

"Then eat dinner now," Vihaan said quickly. "Me and Bhai will sit with you."

He shot Dharam a look that practically begged him to cooperate.

After a moment, Dharam gave a small nod.

Mira didn't say anything. Her eyes remained on him, studying him, trying to understand how someone could be so distant from his own marriage. As if he had never wanted it in the first place.

"Maa ji called," she said suddenly.

Both brothers looked up.

"She wanted to talk to you. And she said Papaji will be coming here this weekend."

The moment the words left her mouth, both Dharam and Vihaan went still.

Because they knew exactly what that meant.

Not a visit.

An inspection.

Mira noticed the change in their expressions but said nothing. Instead, she quietly walked into the kitchen and began serving herself dinner.

After dinner, Mira lay quietly on the bed, staring at Dharam's back. The room was dark except for the faint light slipping through the curtains. The moment he shifted, she quickly shut her eyes.

"When Papa comes, do as he says," Dharam spoke into the darkness. "Stay quiet. Don't talk rubbish."

He knew she wasn't asleep.

Mira's eyes opened immediately. "I do whatever everyone asks," she replied. "You don't have to tell me how to be a perfect daughter-in-law when you're the one who has never tried to be a good husband."

The words landed harder than they should have.

Dharam's jaw clenched as he stared at the darkness ahead. A slow breath left him as he forced himself to stay calm. She didn't understand. She knew nothing about the world he lived in, the enemies waiting for one mistake. Yet somehow her words still found their mark.

"You've started talking too much."

His voice was low. Deep.

For the first time, he turned toward her.

He wanted to know what had gotten into her.

Or perhaps what she had been hiding all this time.

"Maybe I did," Mira said. "Or maybe I always talked this much. Maybe it's just that you were never around long enough to hear it. You come for two days, live like a stranger, and then disappear again for a month."

Dharam didn't answer immediately.

Because she wasn't entirely wrong.

He did come for two days.

Sometimes less.

He stayed long enough for the village to see him, long enough for his mother to stop asking questions, and then he left again. Somewhere along the way, he had stopped thinking of marriage as something that required effort. Mira was safe. His parents were happy. The arrangement worked.

At least that was what he had always believed.

"I work, Mira. I'm not free all day."

"And I'm not your maid."

The reply came instantly.

"You expect me to follow everything you say, and then you put money in my hand as if that solves everything." She sat up slightly and looked directly at him. "I'm your wife."

The room fell silent.

His eyes remained on her.

Wife.

The word sounded strangely unfamiliar.

Not because she wasn't.

Because she was.

Legally. Socially. In every way that mattered.

Yet he had never truly allowed himself to think of her as one. She had become a responsibility. Someone kept safely away from his world, away from danger, away from the blood and violence that followed him.

That had always seemed enough.

"A wife has needs," Mira continued. "If not physical, then emotional. I want to talk to you. I want to spend time with you."

Something uncomfortable settled in his chest.

Before he could respond, she continued.

"And what kind of bastard is your boss anyway? You're always working. Always busy. Does he think you're a machine?"

For a second, Dharam genuinely didn't know whether to be annoyed or amused.

She was insulting him.

Without realizing she was insulting him.

"My mother lived like this too," he said finally. "She never complained."

"And is she happy?"

The question came instantly.

Sharp.

Direct.

The room went still.

Dharam looked at her.

For the first time, he didn't have an answer.

His mother.

For years he had watched her smile through disappointments, through absences, through decisions made for her rather than with her. He had never asked whether she was happy.

No one had.

In his family, happiness had never been the goal.

Duty was.

The realization left an unpleasant taste in his mouth.

"And the last thing I am is your mother," Mira continued. "She's kind. She knows how to take care of everyone. She has a family."

A small pause followed.

"I don't."

Something shifted inside him.

"I'm an orphan," she said quietly. "I have no one."

The words were simple.

Matter-of-fact.

Yet somehow heavier than everything else she had said.

Dharam found himself remembering the day her parents died. The entire village had gathered around her. She had sat there silently, staring at two bodies while everyone else cried. Even then she hadn't broken.

He had thought she was strong.

Now he wondered if she had simply been alone.

"So maybe it's easy for you to ignore me," she continued. "Maybe it's easy for you to discard me."

Her voice never shook.

That somehow made it worse.

She held his gaze.

"But I won't break."

For a long moment neither of them spoke.

The darkness settled around them once more.

And for the first time since their marriage, Dharam found himself looking at his wife and realizing she wasn't nearly as simple as he had believed.

Nor was she nearly as weak.

So what he was gonna do about Her now?

Question time

Tell me what's gonna happens next.

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