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Author's POV
The hall was quiet—not silent, but quiet in the way a heartbeat is quiet: present, pulsing, impossible to ignore.
Shivansh stood near the entrance, still.
No movement.
No blink.
Just watching her.
Isha descended the final step of the staircase with Meher at her side—slow, graceful, careful. She didn't look toward the door even once. Not even accidentally.
But she could feel him.
Like heat behind her back.
Like a memory that refused to die.
Shivansh's breath caught in his chest as he saw her—
Not as she was five years ago, soft and glowing—
But as she was now:
Scarred somewhere he could not see.
Stronger somewhere he could never reach.
His jaw tightened.
His fingers curled into fists so hard his knuckles turned white.
Luka saw him too.
Their eyes met—for one sharp second.
Luka didn't smirk.
Didn't claim victory.
He simply held the gaze like a warning:
Don't break her again.
Isha felt the pressure of his stare.
Her heart stumbled, stuttered, then steadied only because she forced it to.
Her lashes fluttered—just for a second—
She almost turned.
Almost.
But then the words crashed through her mind:
No.
You cannot look at him.
Because of him, you lost b--No no, don't think about that now.
The unspoken wound sat heavy in her chest.
She kept her chin lifted.
Eyes forward.
Steps steady.
Shivansh's eyes burned.
Like he was drowning.
Like he was begging.
Like he had no right to beg anymore.
The engagement rituals began.
Isha's mother cried quietly.
Her father held his wife's hand.
Arjun smiled, relief softening his face.
Mehak whispered compliments under her breath.
Dhruv recorded everything like a proud idiot brother.
Ishika and prisha hooted.
Everyone clapped.
Everyone smiled.
Everyone believed they were witnessing something healing.
But Shivansh's chest was tightening with every moment.
His throat burned every time Luka looked at Isha with gentle understanding.
He didn't love her. Shivansh could tell.
This wasn't romance.
It was something even more painful.
Support.
The one thing he never gave her.
Isha lifted Luka's hand to slide the ring onto his finger.
His fingers trembled.
His breath shortened.
His vision blurred.
he blinked hard—just once—just enough to steady himself before anyone noticed.
The ring slipped onto Luka's finger.
Applause.
Laughter.
Congratulations.
And then—
His body stopped listening to him.
It happened quietly at first:
His fingers twitched.
Hia lungs pulled too little air.
His pupils widened.
he tried to smile.
But his lips shook.
Hia chest tightened sharply.
A voice inside his head screamed—
Don't fall. Don't fall. Don't fall.
The applause was still echoing in the hall when she stepped back.
Isha didn't look up. Not even once. Not toward him.
Her gaze remained trained on the floor as if the ground itself was safer than his eyes.
Someone somewhere laughed lightly, clapped her shoulder, congratulated her. The room was full — music, lights, people clicking photos. It should have felt warm.
It didn't.
Across the hall, he stood, still as a shadow that did not belong here.
Shivansh.
He didn't speak. He didn't move.
He just watched her — as if memory itself had taken human form and refused to fade.
She could feel his stare like heat against her skin, but she didn't look up.
Her fingers tightened at her side.
That was all it took.
Something inside him snapped — quietly, like glass cracking under too much pressure.
His breathing changed first. Slow, uneven.
Then faster. Faster. Too fast.
Aviyansh noticed first.
"bhai sa?" his voice was soft, cautious. "Hey… breathe. Look at me."
But Shivansh's chest was already rising and falling in short, sharp bursts.
His eyes unfocused. Hands shaking.
The room flickered — too bright, too loud, too full.
He tried to turn away — as if he could outrun the air.
"I—" he gasped, the word breaking mid-breath.
Aviyansh's voice sharpened. "Ranveer bhai—"
Ranveer was there before the sentence finished.
One look was enough.
"Move," he ordered, low, steady, the kind of calm that only shows up in people who have seen this before.
But it was worse this time.
Shivansh's hands flew toward his own chest — as if trying to hold his heart in place.
His knees almost gave.
"Shiv!" Dhruv's voice cut somewhere from behind, trembling.
The music was loud behind them.
No one knows what is happening here.
They held him from both sides — Aviyansh and Ranveer — guiding, grounding, but Shivansh couldn't hear them.
He wasn't here anymore.
He was somewhere else — somewhere five years back — somewhere she had walked away from him already.
Isha's breath caught.
Her foot moved — just one step.
But she stopped herself.
She did not go to him.
She couldn't.
Her hands shook, but she folded them tightly, nails digging into skin.
Ranveer's voice was quiet but firm.
"We're taking him to the hospital now."
Everything happened fast after that — cars, doors, cold night air.
She watched them go.
But she did not follow.
Not even when her name slipped from someone's lips behind her.
The hospital corridor smelled like disinfectant and night-shift exhaustion.
The harsh white lights hummed too loudly.
A nurse adjusted the oxygen mask over Shivansh's face.
His lashes rested against his skin — too still, too pale — as if someone had taken the life out of him and left only the shape.
Aviyansh sat with his head bowed, fingers laced together so tightly the knuckles were white.
Dhruv leaned against the wall, not speaking, not blinking.
Ranveer stood straight — not pacing, not restless — just quiet.
But there was a storm behind the silence.
When the doctor finally came out, the room stilled.
"Mr. Raghuvanshi?" he asked.
Ranveer stepped forward.
"How is he?" Ranveer's voice was low. Controlled.
The doctor sighed once — tired, not dramatic. Just real.
"This wasn't a mild panic attack. It was an acute emotional collapse. His heart was under severe strain. If he had arrived even five minutes later…"
He didn't finish the sentence.
Aviyansh's eyes closed.
Dhruv exhaled shakily, like he'd been holding air for hours.
The doctor continued, voice steady:
"He has been suppressing something very heavy for a very long time. If this happens again, I cannot guarantee he will recover with the same stability. You need to understand — this is not just psychological anymore. His body is giving up."
A silence followed — sharp, final.
Avi's voice was barely a whisper:
"What do we do now?"
The doctor looked at them with a kind of sympathy that felt like a warning.
"Keep him away from the trigger. Whatever caused this… whoever caused this… he cannot face it again. Not soon. And I'm afraid Mr. Raghuvanshi, his mind and body won't be able to take this anymore."
The corridor felt colder.
Ranveer didn't speak for a long moment.
When he finally did, his voice held the weight of something unspoken, something irreversible.
"I understand."
He looked at the ICU door—
at the man inside who had always stood unshaken—
now breaking where no one could see.
The room was quiet except for the slow, rhythmic sound of the oxygen machine.
White walls. Pale light. Too still. Too clean.
The kind of silence that stretches.
The hospital room was quiet, except for the faint, steady rhythm of the heart monitor. Shivansh's eyes fluttered open, the white ceiling above him blurring for a moment before coming into focus. His head felt heavy, his chest tighter than ever.
He shifted slightly, and that's when he saw Dhruv — sitting right beside him on the chair, elbows resting on his knees, eyes red from sleeplessness. Dhruv had been staring at the tiled floor until he noticed Shivansh moving.
Dhruv sat close to the bed, elbows on his knees, fingers locked together, head bent forward.
He had not moved in the last hour. Not really.
He simply sat there — watching him.
Shivansh lay still, eyes closed, chest rising too slowly, too carefully — as if even breathing demanded effort now.
Dhruv's eyes traced the lines of his face.
The strong jaw.
The sharp cheekbones.
The man everyone once feared — respected — followed without question.
The man who stood like a wall no one could break.
Now looked like a man made of thin glass.
For a moment, Dhruv wondered — if he blinked — would Shivansh disappear?
A faint stir broke his thoughts.
A shift of breath.
A twitch of fingers.
Slowly, Shivansh's eyelids lifted.
First confusion.
Then awareness.
Then pain — the quiet kind, the internal kind, the kind no medicine could numb.
His gaze drifted — unfocused — until it fell on Dhruv.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Shivansh blinked once, twice, as if his own friend sitting beside him was something his mind refused to accept.
"...Dhruv?" his voice was barely there, rough, cracked from exhaustion more than weakness.
Dhruv exhaled shakily — a breath he didn't even realize he was holding.
He leaned forward slightly, voice gentle, steady, too steady for how his heart was beating.
"Yeah," he said. "I'm here."
Shivansh looked at him, really looked — and his eyes said everything without saying anything.
Dhruv lifted a hand — hesitant, careful — and placed it over Shivansh's.
"Hey," he murmured. "Do you… need something? Water? Doctor? Anything?"
Shivansh tried to speak, but his throat tightened.
He didn't get the chance to respond, because the door opened.
Ranveer entered first, Aviyansh right behind him.
Both stopped mid-step when they saw him awake, their expressions tight with concern.
Aviyansh's voice came out first, quick, controlled but tight at the edges.
"Oh. You're awake. Does anything hurt? Should I call the doctor?"
Ranveer said immediately, stepping closer. "Do you need something? Should I call the doctor?"
Shivansh shook his head weakly. "No. I'm… fine."
He wasn't. Everyone in the room knew it. But no one said it.
Ranveer stepped forward, pulling a chair closer to the bed.
He sat heavily — like the weight of the past five years had finally caught up to him.
Aviyansh stood, arms crossed, but his fingers tapped anxiously against his wrist, worried in his eyes. For a moment, none of them spoke — the air thick with everything they wanted to say but didn't know how to begin.
No one spoke for a moment.
Finally, Ranveer's voice broke the silence.
"What were you trying to do, Shiv?"
His tone wasn't angry. It was tired. So tired.
Shivansh didn't answer.
Ranveer continued, slower this time.
"You scared the hell out of us. You understand that?"
Silence.
"Say something," Ranveer pushed, voice cracking just slightly. "Anything."
Shivansh swallowed. His voice came out low, unsteady.
"I'm… not okay, Ranveer."
The words hung in the air — heavy.
Because they were the truth.
And he had never said them before. Not once.
Dhruv looked down.
Aviyansh exhaled.
Ranveer's jaw tightened.
"Then tell us," Ranveer said softly. "Tell us what you're hiding. What truth you want to tell her. Tell us now."
Shivansh's eyes flickered — the wall he always held inside him trembling.
"She moved on, bhai sa," Aviyansh said quietly. "She's engaged. She has a life now. You saw it. You don't have to—"
Shivansh cut him off.
"I know she moved on."
His voice was not loud. But it was sharp. Clear.
"But my love didn't."
Silence again.
He continued, each word slower, like speaking itself was painful.
"Five years. I tried. God knows I tried. I fought everything. Myself. My past. My family. Her memory."
His breath shook.
"But I never won. Not once."
Ranveer closed his eyes for a moment.
Shivansh looked straight ahead — not at any of them — but at something only he could see.
"I will tell her," he whispered. "I have to. Even if she turns away. Even if she never forgives me. Even if she marries someone else. Even if she hates me for the rest of her life."
His voice cracked.
"I will tell her."
Aviyansh opened his mouth — but Dhruv spoke first this time.
"She is my sister," Dhruv said quietly.
"Not by blood, but by every other thing that matters. I love her. And I have always hated you for what you did to her."
He looked straight into Shivansh's eyes — no hesitation.
"But I also know your love for her is real. And it is the kind that destroys a man."
The room held its breath.
"If you are going to tell her," Dhruv said, voice lower now, steady, final,
"then do it honestly. Fully. No lies. No half-truths. No running. No fear."
Shivansh looked at him — the first hint of something like life flickering behind his eyes.
"I will," he said.
Ranveer's voice, quiet, pained, almost breaking:
"Just don't lose yourself before that."
Shivansh's eyes softened — tired, but determined.
"It's already too late."
No one argued.
Because they knew it was true.
Then Ranveer exhaled, leaning slightly forward. "You know, Shiv… this isn't you. I've seen you fight wars, business, politics, even your own demons. But this—" he gestured slightly to the hospital bed "—this is not the brother I know."
Shivansh stayed quiet, his gaze distant.
Aviyansh was the first to break the silence again. "What are you even hiding, bhai sa? What truth is it that's eating you alive like this? She's moved on. You need to too."
Shivansh's jaw tightened, his breath coming shallow.
Ranveer continued quietly, "I told you to tell Isha everything, remember? But now… now I'm saying something else. Maybe you should just let her live her life, and you live yours. She looks happy, Shiv. Don't drag her back into—"
"Enough," Shivansh interrupted, his voice low but sharp. His hand clenched on the bedsheet. "You think it's easy? You think I can just 'move on'? You think this—" he gestured toward his chest "—is something I can switch off like a damn light?"
Ranveer's eyes softened, but he said nothing.
"I need your help," Shivansh said suddenly, turning to Dhruv. "Please. She's not listening to me. She won't even look at me. She acts like I never existed in her life… like I was never the man she once loved." His voice cracked slightly. "If I stand in front of her, she doesn't even blink. Like I'm a stranger."
He looked between them — his brothers, his friends, his family — with desperation raw in his eyes. "Maybe if you tell her to listen to me, she will. Please, just once, tell her to hear me out. I need to tell her the truth. The real truth."
Dhruv frowned, confused but silent.
Ranveer leaned back, his tone wary. "And what truth is that, Shivansh? Because whatever it is — it already destroyed you both once."
Shivansh looked up slowly, his eyes glistening. "You all think I cheated on her," he said quietly. "That I betrayed her with Juhi."
The mention of the name made Ranveer's brows tighten. Dhruv looked away.
"Do you really think," Shivansh continued, voice trembling with anger and pain, "that I would do that? That I would betray the only woman I ever loved — with someone I called my sister?"
His words hit the room like a stone dropped into still water. Ranveer's face froze. Aviyansh blinked, trying to make sense of it.
"She's my sister," Shivansh repeated, louder now, voice cracking. "Juhi is my fucking sister! How could you all even think—" He stopped, breathing hard, running a hand through his hair. "I never did that to Isha. I could never."
Ranveer's expression softened, but his voice stayed calm. "Then why, Shiv? Why did you make her believe it?"
"Because I had no choice!" Shivansh snapped. "If I didn't… they would've killed her."
"What?" Dhruv's voice was barely a whisper.
Shivansh looked down, his fingers trembling. "They have someone from my security and someone from somewhere else i don't remember it now but yeah that someone was telling the one who wants revenge on me. I don't want to drag you all into it. But there were people… powerful people… and they wanted revenge from me. If I didn't show that I cheat, they would kill Isha. I couldn't risk her life. So I made her hate me instead. I destroyed myself before they could destroy her."
Ranveer stared at him, speechless.
"I know what I did was wrong," Shivansh continued, softer now, tears welling at the corners of his eyes. "I lied to her. I broke her. I made her believe the worst of me. But what else could I do? I had to choose between her love and her life. And I chose her life."
He pressed his palm against his eyes, his voice breaking completely. "You can hate me for it. I hate myself for it every damn day. But please, don't think I cheated on her. I didn't. I loved her more than I ever loved myself."
Ranveer finally spoke, his voice thick. "Shiv… why didn't you tell us this before?"
"Because you would've stopped me," Shivansh whispered. "And if anyone tried to interfere, they would've killed her right there. I couldn't take that risk."
Dhruv, who had been silent all this time, finally said quietly, "You know, I want to believe you. But Isha… she's my sister. She's suffered enough."
"I know," Shivansh said, nodding slowly, eyes red. "That's why I need your help. Not to make her love me again. Just… make her listen once. Let me tell her the truth. After that, if she still hates me, I'll disappear from her life forever. But please, I can't let her live believing I was that monster."
Ranveer stood up slowly, looking down at him — his brother who was once unbreakable, now barely holding himself together.
"I'll think about it," Dhruv said quietly. "But Shiv… this truth — it better be worth the pain you both went through."
Shivansh looked up, his eyes shimmering with tears but filled with determination. "It is," he said softly. "And one day, you'll understand why I had to do it."
The room fell silent again, except for the faint hum of the machines. Outside, the sky had begun to turn dusky gold, sunlight falling through the blinds and cutting across Shivansh's face — half in light, half in shadow, just like his truth.
The corridor outside the hospital room was silent except for the faint sound of nurses walking by and the distant beeping of machines. Dhruv was the first to step out, his hand running through his hair in disbelief. Avyansh followed quietly, his face pale, his eyes unfocused. Ranveer came out last, closing the door gently behind him, his chest tightening with something he couldn't name.
For a long moment, none of them spoke. They just stood there, each lost in their own storm of thoughts.
Ranveer leaned against the wall, his head tilted back. "I… I can't believe what he just said," he muttered finally, his voice barely audible.
Aviyansh let out a shaky breath. "Neither can I. It doesn't even sound real. All this time, we thought…" He stopped mid-sentence, shaking his head, words failing him.
"That he cheated," Dhruv finished quietly, his voice heavy with regret. "That he betrayed Isha."
Ranveer looked at him, his eyes filled with something between guilt and confusion. "We all thought that, Dhruv. Every single one of us."
Aviyansh frowned, rubbing his temples. "But why would he hide something like this? Why would he take the blame for something so big? If he was scared, he should've told us. We could've protected Isha together."
Dhruv crossed his arms, his jaw tightening. "You really think he'd risk it? If those people were as powerful as he said, even one wrong move could've cost Isha her life. He did what he had to."
The hallway light flickered for a moment, casting shadows across their faces. There was a strange heaviness in the air — the kind that comes after realizing how wrong you've been about someone.
Ranveer let out a dry, bitter laugh. "And all this time, we were blaming him. We were sitting there, cursing him, calling him a monster. I even told him Isha deserved better." His voice cracked a little. "God, what have we done?"
Aviyansh looked away, guilt clouding his expression. "We didn't know, bhai sa. None of us did. He made sure we didn't."
"But we could've tried," Ranveer whispered. "We could've asked. We could've trusted him enough to at least listen."
Dhruv remained silent, his eyes fixed on the floor. His thoughts were miles away — back to the moment months ago when everything fell apart. He remembered the look on Isha's face, the tears, the disbelief.
He remembered Juhi too — pale, broken, yet quiet. How she never defended herself, never explained. She just stood there, taking every word of blame like it was her punishment.
And for the first time, Dhruv felt something twist deep in his chest. Guilt. And something else he didn't want to name.
"Juhi," he murmured, almost to himself.
Aviyansh turned toward him. "What?"
Dhruv looked up, his throat tight. "She never said anything either. Never once tried to prove herself innocent. Maybe… maybe she was protecting him. Or Isha. Or both." He swallowed hard. "We never gave her a chance to speak. We just assumed."
Ranveer nodded slowly, the weight of realization pressing down on all of them. "We blamed her for everything too."
There was silence again — the kind that was louder than words.
"I remember," Dhruv continued quietly, "that noon, after everything blew up, I saw Juhi sitting alone in the garden. She was crying, but when she saw me, she wiped her tears and smiled like nothing happened. I thought she was pretending… but maybe she was breaking inside too."
Ranveer's gaze softened as he looked at Dhruv. "You cared for her, didn't you?"
Dhruv's head snapped up, startled. "What— no, I—" He stopped himself. The denial felt weak, hollow. His silence afterward said more than any words could.
Aviyansh gave a faint, sad smile. "You don't have to explain, Dhruv bhai. It's okay."
Dhruv looked away, his jaw tightening again. "It's not okay. Not when we accused her of something so horrible. She was his sister, and we didn't even give her the dignity of believing that." His voice trembled slightly. "We failed them both."
Ranveer sighed deeply, pressing his fingers to his forehead. "You know what hurts the most? That all this time, while we were angry, he was out there breaking himself to keep Isha safe. And we— we left him alone."
Aviyansh nodded slowly. "And he didn't even defend himself once. He let us hate him. Maybe he thought he deserved it."
"Or maybe," Dhruv said softly, "he thought it was easier that way. If we hated him, it would make Isha's life easier too."
Ranveer exhaled deeply, the guilt weighing heavy on his shoulders. "He's always been like that. Silent. Selfless. Stupidly selfless."
The three of them fell into another silence — each consumed by different shades of regret. The past flashed before their eyes — Shivansh's cold expressions, his distance, his silence whenever Isha's name was mentioned. They used to mistake it for guilt, arrogance, or avoidance. Now they saw it for what it truly was — pain.
Dhruv leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes for a moment. "He loved her that much… that he chose to let her hate him rather than risk her life. Who does that?"
Ranveer's voice came out low, rough. "Someone who loves beyond logic."
Avyansh looked back at the hospital door — the one that separated them from Shivansh. "We should've seen it. All this time, the signs were there. The way his eyes changed when someone mentioned Isha. The way he'd go silent, the way he'd look at her from afar like he was starving just to see her once more. And we thought it was guilt."
Ranveer's tone softened, heavy with realization. "It wasn't guilt. It was love. It was a pain."
The words hung in the air, raw and heavy.
After a long silence, Dhruv finally said, "What now? Do we tell Isha?"
Ranveer hesitated. "Not yet. Not like this. We need to know everything first. Who was after him? Why? If we tell her now without proof, it'll break her all over again."
Aviyansh nodded. "Ranveer bhai sa's right. We can't let her go through another storm until we know the whole truth. We'll handle this quietly. Together."
Dhruv glanced once more toward the door, his voice quiet but firm. "Then we protect him now — the way he protected her."
Ranveer placed a hand on his shoulder, a faint, sad smile appearing on his face. "For once, we're on the same side as him."
As they stood there in silence, the reality of it all sank deeper — the shattered pieces of misunderstanding, guilt, and buried emotions finally starting to rearrange themselves into truth.
Behind that closed door, Shivansh lay broken but lighter — because for the first time in years, he had spoken his truth. And outside, his brothers finally began to understand the depth of the pain he had been carrying all alone.
The white walls of the hospital glowed softly under the morning light. The atmosphere, though calm, still carried the heaviness of what had happened hours ago.
Shivansh sat quietly on the bed, his eyes staring blankly at the floor. His brothers—Ranveer, Dhruv, and Aviyansh—stood near the doctor, waiting for the final words before they could take him home.
The doctor adjusted his glasses and looked at them with a mixture of concern and calm authority.
"Mr. Raghuvanshi is stable now," he began, his voice even. "But he needs complete rest. Mentally, he's still fragile. Avoid giving him any kind of stress. No arguments, no sudden confrontations. His mind has been under severe emotional pressure for quite some time."
Ranveer nodded slowly. "We understand, doctor. We'll make sure he rests."
The doctor exhaled, folding his arms. "Good. But there's one more thing—he needs to open up. Whatever he's hiding, whatever he's been suppressing—it's eating him alive. If he starts sharing, it'll help him heal faster. Encourage him to talk. Don't let him keep everything locked inside."
Those words hung in the air for a moment. Aviyansh looked at Shivansh, who was pretending not to hear but clearly had. His fingers fidgeted with the bedsheet, his jaw set tight.
After the formalities were done, they thanked the doctor and completed the discharge process. Ranveer handled the paperwork while Dhruv and Aviyansh helped Shivansh stand. He was weak, but he didn't complain. He just muttered softly, "Let's go home."
The drive back to Raghuvanshi Palace was quiet. The city outside was waking up—the sky painted with faint orange hues of dawn—but inside the car, silence ruled. Ranveer drove with one hand resting on the steering, the other clenched on his thigh. Dhruv sat beside him, glancing at Shivansh from the rearview mirror now and then.
Shivansh sat at the back, leaning his head against the window, watching the blur of passing trees. His thoughts were a storm—too loud, too heavy—but he kept it all behind his calm face. Only his eyes betrayed him; they looked tired, lost.
Aviyansh finally broke the silence. "You okay?"
Shivansh didn't reply immediately. He gave a small nod. "I will be."
Dhruv sighed. "You scared us, man. For a moment I thought—" he stopped, unable to finish.
"I didn't mean to," Shivansh said softly. "But I guess everything just caught up."
Ranveer's grip tightened on the wheel. "Just… don't do that again. None of us can handle losing you."
A faint smile touched Shivansh's lips, but it didn't reach his eyes. "You won't."
By the time they reached the Raghuvanshi Palace, the sun was already high. The massive gates opened slowly as the guards recognized the car. Inside, the palace grounds were still quiet, most of the family asleep after last night's chaos.
Shivansh's parents, aunt, uncle, and grandparents had all stayed overnight—no one wanted to leave after the engagement wants to spend time with isha.
And no one knows about what happened to isha.
The brothers helped him out of the car and led him toward the entrance, but Shivansh stopped midway. "I don't want to go to my room," he said suddenly.
Ranveer frowned. "Then where?"
"The study," Shivansh answered firmly. "I need to talk to you all. And… I need your help."
Dhruv glanced at Ranveer, uncertain. "Now? You just got discharged, Shivansh. Can't wait?"
He shook his head. "No. It can't."
They exchanged looks but eventually nodded. Within minutes, they were seated inside the grand study—a room that smelled faintly of old books and sandalwood. The curtains were half drawn, sunlight filtering through and casting golden lines across the polished floor.
Shivansh took his usual seat behind the desk, the same one he used during meetings, though now his posture carried exhaustion instead of authority. Ranveer sat opposite him, while Dhruv and Aviyansh settled on the sofa, still quiet, watching him.
For a moment, no one spoke. The silence stretched until it felt like even the ticking clock on the wall had slowed.
Then Shivansh exhaled deeply. "You all know the truth now," he began, his voice steady but low. "You know why I did what I did." He paused, his eyes darkening with pain. "But I can't let it end here. I need her to know too. Isha deserves to hear it from me—not from anyone else, not from whispers, not from your mouths—from me."
Ranveer leaned forward slightly. "Shivansh…"
He raised a hand, cutting him off. "Please, let me finish. I know what I did was wrong. Every single thing I did to her—it was wrong. I hurt her. I destroyed her trust. I took away her peace. I know. And I'll carry that guilt for the rest of my life." His voice broke for a moment, then steadied again. "But at least… she deserves to know why."
Avyansh frowned. "And what if she doesn't want to listen?"
"She won't," Shivansh said without hesitation. "Not at first. Maybe not even after. But I still have to try. I can't live knowing she hates me for something I never meant to do."
Dhruv looked at him quietly. "And what do you want us to do?"
"I need your help," Shivansh said, meeting each of their eyes. "She's not listening to me. She won't even look at me. She acts like I never existed in her life. But you—she listens to you. Maybe if you ask her, she'll agree to meet me once. Just once. That's all I want. I'll tell her everything then. After that, it's up to her—if she forgives me or not, if she walks away or comes back. It's her choice. But I can't let her live thinking I was the monster in her story."
Ranveer looked down, the conflict clear on his face. "Shivansh… what you did broke her, you know that. Even if you tell her the truth, it doesn't erase her pain."
"I know," Shivansh whispered. "It doesn't erase mine either. But she should at least know it wasn't betrayal—it was protection. Even if it cost me her love, even if it made her hate me forever."
The room went silent again. The truth in his voice was heavy, raw. For the first time, his brothers saw not the kingly, controlled man they knew, but someone utterly human—someone drowning in love and guilt at the same time.
Finally, Ranveer nodded slowly. "Alright," he said quietly. "We'll help you. But promise me one thing—you'll handle it carefully. No more breaking down. No more hospital trips. You need to be strong for this."
Shivansh managed a small, grateful smile. "I will. I promise."
Aviyansh leaned back with a sigh. "Guess it's time to make Isha bhai listen."
Dhruv looked at Shivansh for a long second. "I just hope," he said softly, "that when the truth comes out… it heals her instead of breaking her again."
Shivansh's gaze lowered his trembling hands. "That's what I pray for too."
And as the morning light filled the study, the four men sat there—silent but united—knowing that the hardest part was yet to come.
The morning sun spread gently across the vast dining hall of the isha Palace. The long table gleamed with silver cutlery and fresh white linen, carrying the aroma of freshly baked parathas, toast, and steaming tea. The room was filled with chatter and soft laughter as both families shared breakfast together.
Isha sat quietly in her place, beside Ishika and Prisha. On her other side sat little Riyan, swinging his legs beneath the chair, trying to reach for a glass of juice that was clearly too far. Luka chuckled softly and helped him, while Arjun teased, "Riyan, one day you'll grow tall enough to drink that without help."
Everyone laughed lightly. Even Isha smiled.
Around the table were familiar faces — her parents, Meher and Alessandro, Riyan, Arjun, Ishika, Prisha, Luka, Arab and then on the other side, Shivansh's parents, his grandparents, chote maa, and chote papa,The table looked fuller than usual, like a family that had suddenly become twice its size overnight.
As she picked up her cup of tea, Isha glanced around, noticing someone missing. "Where is dhruv Bhaiyu?" she asked softly, looking toward her mother. "And the others? I don't see them."
Her father looked up from his plate and replied, "They went out for a short meeting, beta. They said they'll return by noon."
"Oh," she nodded, her voice thoughtful. For a second, her mind drifted somewhere far away, to faces she didn't see, to words left unsaid.
But her thoughts broke when Ishika spoke up cheerfully, "So, Isha! It's already morning and we have so much to do! We have only seven days left for the wedding, right?"
Isha blinked and turned to her. "Yes," she said slowly. "Only seven days."
Prisha leaned forward, her eyes bright. "Then we need to start the preparations soon. There's Ganesh Poojan, Haldi, Mehendi, Sangeet, and then the wedding itself. That's a lot! We'll need to finalize decorations, food, music, outfits—everything."
Isha sighed softly, a small smile tugging her lips. "I know, but… do we really need to make everything so grand? I don't want it to be too much. Just something simple and warm."
Her mother looked up immediately. "Simple?" she repeated, almost surprised. "Isha, you're the bride. Nothing about your wedding can be simple."
"Still," Isha murmured, stirring her tea absently. "Sometimes simple feels more beautiful. I just want everyone to be happy. It doesn't have to be… royal."
Across the table, Luka chuckled. "That's not happening," he said teasingly. "You forgot you're marrying into a royal family. Even if you say simple, these people will turn it into a fairytale by accident."
Everyone laughed again, but her smile didn't reach her eyes this time.
"Alright then," her mother said after a pause, "we'll see. But you'll still need to finalize your outfits, dear. You can't wear something 'simple' for every function."
Isha nodded half-heartedly. "We'll see. Maybe later today, we can start."
"If you want," Luka offered, "I can help hire someone for the decor and planning. Someone who can handle everything easily."
Isha glanced at him with a grateful smile. "That's sweet, Luka. But no need. We'll manage. You've already helped enough."
He shrugged, smiling faintly. "Just saying. I don't mind."
The conversation drifted after that — to laughter, to childhood memories, to teasing remarks about who would dance at the Sangeet. But Isha's mind had started to wander again.
Her eyes unconsciously moved toward the far end of the table — the empty chair that should've been occupied by Shivansh.
He wasn't there. He hadn't come down yet.
She didn't ask why. She just looked at the chair for a second too long before turning back to her plate.
Her mother noticed the silence in her eyes but said nothing.
The noon carried on as if nothing was unusual, as if the air wasn't heavier for some of them. Plans were being made, laughter floated through the air, and yet, beneath that calm surface — Isha's heart quietly whispered questions she wasn't ready to ask.
It was the kind of warm afternoon that made the palace feel like it could breathe.
Isha sat cross-legged on the living room couch, laptop on her knees, fingers tapping slowly — not really working, more thinking. The house was calm; her parents are in their room, raghuvanshi went to their place back after breakfast, Meher had gone out earlier with ishika and prisha to meet the planners, Alessandro had gone to the Jaipur branch with Luka for a meeting, and little Riyan was asleep in his room while Arav and Arjun are with him quietly. The big family bustle had retreated into small corners, leaving a soft hush in the hall.
Dhruv came in quietly, like someone carrying news he wasn't sure how to say. He stopped at the doorway for a second and watched Isha, watching her from the corner like he always did when he had to say something difficult. She looked up, smiling small. "Hey," she said. "You okay? You just came from—?"
"Yeah," he said, trying to make his voice light. He closed the door more properly and walked over. "Can we talk? It's important. I've been keeping something since I arrived here."Isha said nervously, He kept his jaw tight; you could tell he was nervous but trying hard to be normal.
Isha shut the laptop and tilted her head. Dhruv said, "Okay. Where?"
"The study," Isha said, and dhruv nodded. The study was private, calm — the place where real things came out between them. They went in. Isha sat down in her chair; Dhruv sat in the armchair opposite, isha fiddling with the edge of her sleeve like a kid hiding a secret.
"Okay," isha began, breathing in once. "I… I'm going to say it straight. You deserve to know. From the start — I want you to know the truth about me and Luka. It wasn't— it isn't a real engagement. It was a plan. A plan to hurt Shivansh. To... do something he felt the way we felt, five years ago."
Dhruv stared at him. "What? Isha — what are you saying? Say it properly."
Isha swallowed. "Listen. I—had came with a plan. I'm not really getting involved with Luka. It was all arranged. I wanted to pretend. Not because— not because i loves Luka. I used him as a cover. It was revenge, dhruv. I wanted Shivansh to feel the same pain he caused me. I wanted him to go through the same hell pain. It was supposed to be private. Only a few people knew. Me, Meher, Luka and Alessandro. But it's all—" she broke off, breathless.
Dhruv's fingers tightened on the chair. "What do you mean 'revenge'? That's — that's cruel, isha."
Isha's face went hard. "i thought it would make him hurt the way he did. I wanted him to taste the emptiness, the betrayal. I wanted him to understand what he'd done. I had no other way to make them listen."
Dhruv's eyes didn't move. "Is that true?" he asked softly.
"yess," isha said, not like a confession but like a prepared speech. "You heard me. I will say it plainly. Yes. Luka and I—this, everything, was part of a plan. It wasn't love. I am not getting married to Luka. He already had someone. He had a girlfriend — that's the truth. I asked him to do this. He agreed. He's not involved with me beyond what we agreed. He helped because he trusted me."
Dhruv's face flinched. "You told him to lie? You asked him—"
Isha's voice was small, sharp. "I asked him for help. I didn't want anyone else. I didn't trust anyone else. I trusted him and meher and Alessandro bhaiya. I'm not proud of playing games, but listen — there were reasons."
Dhruv leaned forward, head in his hands. "You used all of us. You used our anger, our pain. You made it a weapon. How can you— how can anyone know what to do now?"
Isha didn't flinch. She stood beside the desk, arms folded, jaw tight, eyes already shining with unshed anger.
Dhruv stepped closer.
His voice was low, trembling, "Isha… what you did… it wasn't right."
She let out a cold laugh—one he had never heard from her.
"Of course. Because now suddenly you decide to have morals?"
"Isha—"
"No, bhaiyu." Her voice cracked but didn't break. She looked directly into his eyes. "You were the one who told me Mummy was ill. You were the one who said she lost weight, she turned pale, she stopped eating properly after my 'death anniversary.' My death anniversary, Dhruv. The day all of you cried for me… while I was fucking alive."
Dhruv swallowed hard, chest rising with guilt.
Isha took one step toward him, her anger no longer hidden.
"I wanted to tell everyone that I am alive. I wanted to come home. I wanted to hug Mummy, Papa, you. I wanted to tell them to stop crying for a dead daughter who never died."
Her voice trembled, but she kept going.
"But I had no chance. No way. So when you told me Mummy was sick, I decided—this is it. This is my moment."
Dhruv shook his head. "But Isha—revenge? On Shivam? You think this is right? You think breaking someone else's heart is a solution?"
Her eyes darkened instantly.
"Don't you dare bring that up," she hissed.
"Isha—"
"No!" She slammed her hand on the desk. "Five fucking years, bhaiyu. Five years of living like a ghost. Five years of hiding. Five years of crying myself to sleep because I thought my own brother would understand my pain."
Dhruv's face fell.
She continued, voice raw:
"Shivansh betrayed me. You saw it. You were there. You saw the way he broke me, shattered me. I cried in your arms, remember? I begged you not to leave my parents alone. And now when it's his turn to feel the same pain, suddenly I'm wrong?"
Dhruv opened his mouth but no words came.
"I wanted him to feel it," she confessed, eyes blazing. "The betrayal. The shock. The heartbreak. Everything I went through. Why shouldn't he?"
"Isha… hurting someone won't fix you."
She scoffed. "I'm not here to fix myself, Dhruv bhaiyu. I came here for two things. Two simple things."
She raised two fingers.
"One—tell my family that I'm alive."
The second finger curled.
"Two—look into Shivansh's eyes and let him feel the same fucking pain he gave me."
Dhruv ran his hand through his hair, frustrated. "But dragging Luca into this? Making an entire fake wedding—"
"It's not fake," she snapped. "Luca knows everything. His girlfriend knows everything. She's like a sister to me. She supported me. Everyone supported me. Only you—only my own brother—is standing here acting like I'm the villain."
"Isha, I'm not—"
"Yes, you are!"
Her voice broke painfully.
"You're standing here defending your so called best friend instead of your own sister. You're saying I'm wrong because you can't accept that Shivansh hurt me. Because he's your friend."
Dhruv looked down, guilt crushing him.
"You should have supported me," she whispered. "You of all people. You knew everything—every detail, every scar, every sleepless night. You gave me updates about my family. You knew I was alive. You helped me survive. And now you stand here telling me I'm wrong?"
Tears finally slipped from the corner of her eye.
"I'm not staying here, Dhruv bhai," she said softly. "After I tell everyone the truth… after the wedding… I will go back to Italy. I'll live my life there. Maybe visit here once in a month. Maybe call all of you there."
She wiped her tears roughly.
"But this—what I'm doing—is my choice. My pain. My story. And I will not let you guilt me for surviving."
Dhruv stepped forward and held her shoulders gently.
"Isha… I just don't want you to get hurt again."
She pulled away.
"I already got hurt," she whispered. "Now it's his turn."
Isha continues, shaking her head. "i did this. I wanted him to suffer. I wanted justice in my way. I also want to tell my family that I am alive and Sometimes life doesn't give choices that are clean." She looked straight at dhruv. "I didn't tell you because I thought it would hurt you more. I thought if he understood the loss later maybe he would stop. But I was selfish. I kept my pain wrapped in silence."
The room went silent.
Dhruv didn't raise his voice.
He didn't have to.
The way he looked at her… that alone felt like a slap.
Isha stood there in the study, half-turned away from him, her jaw tight, her fingers digging into her own palm so deep the nails could have drawn blood. She was still breathing heavily from everything she had just confessed — five years, torture, betrayal, her plan, her hurt. Her chest was still rising and falling too fast.
But dhruv…
Dhruv was calm. Too calm.
He exhaled sharply, pushed a hand through his hair, and then looked at her with eyes that weren't angry —
they were disappointed.
And that hurts more.
He took one step toward her.
"You are not the person standing in front of me right now."
His voice was low, steady.
Isha didn't answer.
Her throat tightened.
She stared at the bookshelf instead of him.
Dhruv shook his head slowly.
"I thought… you just changed your name."
He laughed, humorless.
"Alina. Isha. Fine. A name is nothing."
His eyes moved over her face — the cold there, the sharpness, the walls she had built.
"I even thought you changed your personality. Your aura. You cut your hair, you changed your style, you made yourself stronger. I get it."
Isha swallowed hard.
He wasn't wrong.
But she stayed silent.
Dhruv continued, voice tightening with every word:
"But now… it seems like you didn't just change."
He pointed at her chest lightly, not touching, just gesturing.
"You erased yourself."
Isha blinked, just once. Slowly.
"You are not Maheshwari's daughter I knew," he said, each word heavier than the last.
"Not the girl who used to laugh at stupid jokes. Not the one who cried in movies. Not the one who loved so blindly it ruined her."
Isha's lips parted, but no sound came out.
He stepped closer.
His voice dropped:
"You're not our Isha anymore."
A small shiver ran up her spine.
"You are the shadow of something else. Something darker."
His expression tightened.
"Totally the opposite of isha."
Isha felt that one like a punch in her ribs.
Isha — her softness.
Her innocence.
Her pure love.
Gone.
Dhruv's jaw clenched.
"It is… honestly… good to say that you are Alina now."
Isha exhaled shakily.
She didn't know if it was anger or pain.
"Alina fits you. Cold. Detached. Focused on revenge."
She turned her face away.
"You want revenge from the man you loved."
Dhruv's voice cracked just slightly.
"Loved… still."
She closed her eyes tightly.
"And you will have him," he continued.
"You will get what you want. You will succeed in hurting him."
A trembling breath left Isha's lips.
He wasn't done.
"But when it ends…"
His voice softened to something almost like a whisper.
"…it will be you who cries."
Her chest tensed sharply.
"Not him. Not Shivansh. Not anyone else."
He stepped back.
"You."
Silence fell like a heavy curtain.
Isha didn't answer.
She just stood there, her eyes burning, her jaw locked, her heart shaking inside her ribcage like it wanted to break out.
He spoke again, stronger this time:
"You are not the kind of person who speaks like this."
A pause.
"You are not this revenge-hungry woman you're pretending to be."
Isha finally looked at him.
Her eyes were cold — but inside, something flickered.
He saw it.
He stepped closer again, lowering his voice:
"You are pure, Isha."
His tone wasn't soft, but real.
Honest.
Painfully honest.
"But your revenge blinded you. Completely. You can't even see if what you're doing is right or wrong."
Isha clenched her jaw until it hurt.
But she still didn't speak.
She refused to.
If she spoke, something inside her would break.
He stared at her for a long moment, then shook his head in helpless anger.
"Say something."
Isha didn't.
She only looked away again — that silent, stubborn, hurting silence — the kind that said she was done explaining herself. Done defending herself. Done being questioned.
He let out a bitter exhale.
"Fine."
He turned away.
"Stay silent. It suits this new you."
And Isha…
She stood exactly where she was.
Not moving.
Not crying.
Not defending herself.
Just silently breaking in places no one could see.
And then just walked past him, her expression calm, composed—but her eyes burning.
Dhruv stopped and faced isha back, voice low, "And Juhi? And Shivansh? We blamed them for years. We threw words at them like knives. We— I— accused them. I feel—" He stopped and his throat closed. You could see the guilt like a shadow dropping over him.
He saw how isha goes out of the room leaving him in guilt.
The scene ended with the soft click of the study room door shutting behind.
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