The grand Choudhary mansion stood bathed in golden twilight, its chandeliers sparkling like silent witnesses to the storm of secrets it had harbored. The air in the dining hall was warm, perfumed with spices, but beneath the clinking of cutlery and polite conversation, an invisible unease trembled like a violin string pulled too tight.
Romy and Monty sat side by side at the long, mahogany dining table. Across from them, Prem Choudhary, the patriarch, carved a piece of roasted paneer with calculated calm. Then, without lifting his gaze from the plate, he finally broke the silence.
"Well, Romy beta," Prem said smoothly, "now that the media circus has ended and that woman Naina is behind bars, I suppose it's time you take your wife home."
The words struck like a bell in a silent church.
Romy looked up, his eyes instinctively searching for Monty's. The expression he found there was unreadable—his face calm, but his fingers trembled against the fabric of his kurta. Romy could feel the shift in energy, the weight of something unspoken pressing between them like a ghost at the table.
Before Romy could respond, Preety stood up.
Her sudden movement made Monty flinch, but she didn't even glance at her twin brother. Instead, she walked over to Romy, her heels echoing sharply against the marble floor. Dressed in a soft peach sari, adorned with delicate gold embroidery, she looked every bit the perfect bride. But her smile—too wide, too polished—was what sent a chill down Romy's spine.
She reached for his hand, clasping it tightly in hers. "I've made my decision," she announced sweetly. "I won't return to this house. From now on, I'll stay with my husband—where I belong. I want to be happy. And I think... I will be."
Romy stared at her, stunned into silence.
Monty's fork clattered onto his plate.
He finally found his voice. "Preety?" he said, almost in disbelief. "What are you talking about?"
Preety didn't even look at him. She tilted her head and smiled again, but this time there was something off in her eyes. "It's simple. Romy is my husband. That's what the world believes. And I've decided to accept it… and everything that comes with it."
Preety walked briskly down the long corridor of the Choudhary mansion, her sari shimmering under the chandelier light. She held her head high, but her eyes were heavy with something only she knew.
Monty followed, his footsteps softer, cautious. When she opened the door to her old bedroom to collect her things, he slipped in behind her before she could close it.
"Sis," he said quietly, voice strained, "I need to know what the hell is going on."
Preety didn't turn around. She picked up her jewelry box, opening and shutting it with mechanical precision.
Monty took a step closer. "I heard you ran away with your girlfriend. That you were in Rajasthan, hiding with her. What happened to that plan? What happened to her?"
Preety stiffened. Her shoulders dropped. She set the jewelry box down slowly, finally meeting his gaze in the mirror.
"You want to know what happened, Monty?" Her voice was flat, bitter. "She betrayed me."
Monty blinked. "What?"
Preety turned, her face hard. "She told Daddy where we were. Do you understand? It was a set-up from the start."
Monty's jaw tightened. "But why? She loved you, didn't she?"
Preety laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Loved me? She knew I was a woman who loved women. She knew I was vulnerable. She played the perfect lover. But the truth? She and her husband were in on it together."
Monty felt like he'd been punched in the chest. "Her husband?"
"She's married, Monty," Preety spat. "Bisexual. Greedy. She pretended to run away with me, all so they could extort Dad for money when he tracked us down. Fifteen crores. That's what they wanted to 'give me up.' And you know what? Dad paid them. Paid them to walk away and leave me behind."
Monty's throat bobbed as he swallowed. "I… I can't believe it."
Preety wiped at her eyes angrily. "Dad told me everything. Made me listen to the calls, the recordings. She laughed about it, Monty. Laughed at how stupid I was for thinking she really loved me."
Silence stretched between them.
Monty moved forward, grabbing her wrist gently. "Sis… she can't get away with this. We have to teach her a lesson. "
Preety pulled her arm free. "She's gone."
Monty blinked. "Gone where?"
"She and her husband left the country the moment they got the money. She's blocked me everywhere. She doesn't even exist anymore. There's no one to punish."
Monty clenched his fists. "We'll find her. I swear—"
Preety's voice cracked, finally showing the pain she'd hidden. "Stop it, Monty. Just stop."
He fell silent as she shook her head, her lips trembling.
"I'm done chasing fantasies," she whispered. "I was a fool. A fool who was ready to destroy Dad's reputation, your life, everything—for someone who never loved me. I won't make that mistake again."
Monty's voice softened. "But… what now?"
Preety looked at him with eyes that seemed years older. "Now? Now I try to be a good daughter. A good wife. I try to forget. I try to live."
Monty's heart broke at the flatness of her voice.
She turned back to the mirror, adjusting her hair, smoothing her pallu. Then, as if flipping a switch, she forced a small, practiced smile onto her face.
Monty watched, feeling sick. This wasn't his sister anymore. Not the one who used to laugh with abandon. She was armor now.
Preety took a deep breath and walked to the door, pausing when she saw Romy waiting outside.
Romy's eyes searched hers carefully. "Preety… are you ready?"
She smiled brightly, the kind of smile that had no joy behind it. "Yes, Let's go home."
She reached out, grabbing his hand tightly.
Romy looked over her head, locking eyes with Monty.
Monty stood frozen for a second. Then he nodded, eyes dark with worry. He made a small gesture to Romy, tapping his phone and mouthing silently:
I'll tell you everything. Later.
Romy's heart sank. He squeezed Preety's hand automatically but didn't smile. He understood.
The three of them walked back down the long hallway toward the waiting family and the world outside.
Monty followed them, eyes downcast. His mind raced, trying to understand how everything had shattered so thoroughly—and if it was even possible to put any of it back together.
He watched his sister walk beside Romy like the perfect wife, her head held high, her back straight. But he saw her fingers trembling slightly against Romy's palm.
And Monty made himself a promise in that moment:
He would not let her destroy herself for duty. He would not let Romy's heart break again for a lie.
No matter what it took, he would fix this.
Even if he had to fight everyone, including Preety herself, to do it.