The moment they returned from the gala in Moscow, the silence was different.
Heavy.
Aansi stepped out of the car first.
Her lips still remembered the kiss.
Her mind replayed the way his hand held her waist then moved to her bu— no!
But.
Maybe…
Maybe it wasn't fake.
Inside the estate—
Zaid removed his coat calmly.
No hesitation. No emotional aftermath. No softness.
"You should sleep," he said flatly.
That tone.
Not the gala tone.
This one was colder.
She studied him.
"That kiss…"
"It served its purpose."
Her chest tightened slightly.
"That's all?"
"Yes."
He poured himself a drink.
Didn't look at her.
"You held me like it meant something."
"It meant optics."
She felt foolish.
"But you said you didn't want it to be fake."
He paused.
Just barely.
Then:
"I said for a second."
That second was gone.
The Next Morning
She wasn't supposed to see it.
She came downstairs early.
He was in the study.
On a video call.
The screen reflected faintly in the glass door.
A blonde woman laughing.
Intimate tone.
Soft Russian words.
He wasn't cold with her.
He wasn't distant.
He wasn't strategic.
He was relaxed.
Aansi's stomach dropped.
She heard him say the name:
"Anastasia."
The call ended.
He sensed her presence instantly.
"Eavesdropping is impolite."
She stepped inside.
"Who is she?"
"My girlfriend."
No hesitation.
No shame.
Just fact.
Her face went still.
"You're married."
"Yes."
The bluntness hurt more than anger would have.
"You kissed me last night."
"I had to."
"You said—"
"I said what was necessary."
Silence.
Her voice softened without permission.
" Are you racist?"
He finally looked at her properly.
Measured. Evaluating.
"Maybe."
Pause.
"But I didn't choose you."
There it was.
Raw truth.
She swallowed.
"Is it because I'm Indian?"
His jaw tightened slightly.
"Cultural compatibility matters."
"That's not what I asked."
He didn't deny it.
And that silence said enough.
Meanwhile — Leonid
Leonid had seen the kiss.
And he didn't believe it.
He cornered Aansi in the hallway that afternoon.
"You act well," he murmured.
She stepped back immediately.
"I don't."
"You think my son cares?" Leonid's voice dropped. "He never will."
His hand almost brushed her arm—
But stopped.
Because Zaid appeared.
Out of nowhere.
Silent.
Cold.
"Father."
Leonid smirked.
"Your wife is lonely."
"She won't be your entertainment."
Leonid laughed lightly and walked away.
Zaid didn't look at Aansi.
"You shouldn't walk alone near him."
"You don't care about me."
"That doesn't mean I'll let him touch you."
She searched his face.
"Why?"
His answer was immediate.
"Because you carry my name."
Not because he liked her.
Not because he felt anything.
Ownership.
Not affection.
Night
He returned to the study to sleep.
As usual.
But before closing the door, he said:
"Don't misunderstand the gala."
Her voice was small despite her effort.
"I won't."
Good.
Because he wasn't offering more.
He already belonged somewhere else.
And she was beginning to understand—
She had fallen alone.