While looking at Kiara, Aryan's eyes suddenly shifted toward the wall.
In an instant, his expression changed.
Aryan stepped slightly away from Kiara.
Sensing something was wrong, Kiara opened her eyes and saw Aryan walking around, scanning the walls of the entire room, as if he was searching for something.
"What happened?" Kiara asked.
Aryan frowned and said,
"Why isn't there a single picture of us together anywhere?
There isn't even one photo of us in this entire house.
There are many pictures of me here… but none with you. Why?"
Kiara didn't know what to say.
She had no answer to that question.
After thinking for a moment, she told another lie—
"Actually… we used to live in another house. We just moved here a few days ago, so our things haven't been brought here yet."
Aryan immediately called out loudly—
"Raman!
Raman!
Raman!"
Within seconds, Raman rushed into the room, slightly out of breath.
"What happened, sir?"
"Call a photographer right now," Aryan ordered.
"The best photographer in the city."
Raman looked confused.
"But sir… why do you need a photographer right now?"
"To take pictures."
"Pictures? Of whom?"
"Us."
Raman was completely confused.
Aryan continued,
"There's no need to bring the old photos from the previous house. We'll take new ones."
"Previous house?" Raman asked, surprised.
Kiara quickly stepped in to handle the situation.
"Raman, we haven't brought anything from the old house yet, right? We just moved here…"
She gestured subtly, asking him to agree.
Raman immediately understood and nodded.
"Yes, yes, ma'am is right. Everything is still in the old house. Nothing much has been brought here yet."
Aryan said firmly,
"Forget it. No need to bring anything. Just call the best photographer. We'll take new pictures."
Raman left immediately and called a photographer, asking him to come to the mansion.
The moment the photographer heard Aryan had called, he rushed to Backwood Mansion without wasting a second.
Soon, the photographer arrived.
Raman came to the room and informed them,
"Sir, please get ready and come to the garden."
"Alright," Aryan replied.
Aryan got ready, choosing his outfit carefully.
Then he turned to Kiara and said,
"I'll pick a dress for you."
He opened the wardrobe but noticed—
There wasn't a single dress that matched his outfit.
Immediately—
"Aman!
Raman!
Raman!"
Raman rushed in again.
"Yes, sir? Is there a problem?"
"Yes. There's not a single outfit here that matches mine for Kiara."
His voice turned sharp.
"Arrange matching outfits for her with all my clothes. Right now."
Raman didn't waste a second.
He immediately made a call.
And within just ten minutes—
More than a hundred dresses arrived at Backwood Mansion.
Kiara stood there, completely stunned.
This man has so much power… she thought.
No wonder the nurses were talking about him that day…
Maybe that's why so many women want to marry him.
And honestly… his looks are no less than a hero.
How did God make someone this perfect?
Everything about him felt flawless.
He really is Mr. Perfect…
Suddenly, Aryan's voice broke her thoughts.
"What are you thinking? Go—wear a black dress that matches me."
"Okay," Kiara replied softly.
She picked a black gown and went to change.
After a few minutes, she came out wearing it.
She looked so mesmerizing that Aryan couldn't take his eyes off her.
He just stood there… staring.
But just then, Raman entered again.
"Sir, if you're ready, please come to the garden. The photographer is ready."
"Alright."
Raman left.
Aryan walked toward Kiara and extended his hand.
Without hesitation, Kiara placed her hand in his.
Together, they walked to the garden.
Following the photographer's instructions, they posed in different ways and took several pictures.
After some time, the photographer said,
"Sir, may I leave now?"
"Yes," Aryan replied, "but I want these photos today itself. Understood?"
The photographer nodded nervously.
"Yes, sir."
"Raman, handle his payment," Aryan added.
"Yes, sir," Raman replied.
Raman left with the photographer, and Aryan took Kiara back to the room.
That night, after dinner—
When Kiara entered the room, she saw Aryan already looking at the photos.
"So fast? The photos are already here?" Kiara asked, surprised.
"Yes," Aryan replied.
Kiara smiled softly as she looked at the photos, her fingers lightly brushing over the edges of the frames as if she was trying to feel something real within them.
"They turned out really beautiful…" she said in a low, almost thoughtful voice.
Aryan looked at her, his gaze softening in a way that felt rare, almost vulnerable.
"Our pictures… that's why they're beautiful," he replied gently, his tone carrying a quiet possessiveness.
Then he picked up one large framed photo, holding it carefully as if it meant something far deeper than just an image.
"This one will stay in our bedroom… the rest—"
He called out firmly,
"Raman!"
Raman immediately appeared, almost as if he had been waiting nearby.
"Yes, sir?"
"Hang these photos all over the house," Aryan instructed, his voice steady but determined.
"I want every corner of this mansion to have our pictures… everywhere."
"Yes, sir," Raman said respectfully, taking the frames and leaving without another word.
As soon as Raman left, an unusual silence filled the room.
It wasn't empty… it was heavy.
Filled with unsaid things, hidden truths, and emotions neither of them could fully express.
Aryan turned slightly and looked at Kiara.
There was a strange satisfaction in his eyes… as if he had found something he had unknowingly been searching for.
Or maybe… something he was afraid of losing again.
"Come," Aryan said softly, "let's hang this one in the bedroom."
Kiara nodded quietly.
They walked into the bedroom together.
Kiara scanned the wall carefully, her eyes moving slowly as she tried to choose the perfect spot.
"It'll look good here…" she said after a moment.
She dragged a stool closer and climbed up, holding the frame carefully while trying to fix it properly.
Her movements were slow and cautious.
Aryan stood below, watching her.
Not the frame.
Not the wall.
Just her.
His eyes followed every small movement… every strand of hair that fell across her face… every slight shift of her body.
Suddenly—
The stool shook.
"Kiara, be careful—"
Before he could even finish—
She lost her balance.
Time seemed to slow down for a second.
But before she could fall—
Aryan rushed forward instinctively and caught her.
Kiara fell straight into his chest.
Their eyes locked instantly.
Her breath became uneven… fast… shallow.
Aryan's hands were still firmly wrapped around her waist, holding her securely… as if letting go wasn't even an option.
"Let go…" Kiara whispered softly, but her voice lacked strength… lacked conviction.
Aryan didn't respond immediately.
He just kept looking at her… deeply… intensely… as if trying to read something hidden inside her.
Then slowly, almost teasingly, he said—
"If I let go… you won't fall again, right?"
Kiara didn't reply.
She simply lowered her gaze, unable to meet his eyes any longer.
Aryan gently moved a strand of hair away from her face, his fingers brushing lightly against her skin.
That small touch made her shiver.
"You know… I don't like seeing you like this," he whispered, his voice dropping lower.
"Like what?" Kiara asked softly, barely audible.
"So far away…"
Those words hit her harder than she expected.
For a moment, her eyes shimmered with tears… but she quickly blinked them away, hiding everything behind silence.
Aryan slowly let her go.
Kiara climbed back onto the stool, this time more carefully, and fixed the frame properly.
She came down slowly.
Both of them stood there… silently… looking at the picture.
Together… in one frame…
Like a truth that looked real… but was built on lies.
"Let's sleep," Aryan said after a moment.
They lay down on the bed.
The room was quiet… too quiet.
After a while—
Aryan turned toward her in his sleep and unconsciously held her hand.
Kiara froze instantly.
She turned her head slightly and looked at him.
Even in his sleep…
He didn't want to let go.
Tears filled her eyes again.
"Why…?" she whispered, her voice breaking softly in the silence.
With great difficulty, she gently removed his hand from hers.
Then she placed a body pillow beside him… carefully… slowly…
As if trying to replace herself.
As if trying to fill a space she didn't believe she deserved.
Kiara quietly got up and walked toward the sofa.
She lay down… staring at the ceiling.
There was no sleep in her eyes.
Only fear…
Only guilt…
Only the weight of a truth she was hiding every single moment.
Before dawn—
She woke up again.
Silently… without making a sound… she returned to the bed and lay beside Aryan once more—
As if nothing had happened.
As if she had never left.
When Aryan woke up and saw her beside him—
A faint smile appeared on his lips.
Calm.
Content.
Completely unaware of the truth.
Morning—
Aryan got ready for the office.
"Raman, let's go," he said casually.
They left together.
But before leaving—
Raman secretly pulled the driver aside and whispered,
"Take ma'am to the hospital after sir leaves."
The driver nodded quietly.
After Aryan left—
Kiara got ready and went to the hospital.
Standing outside the cabin, her chest tightened painfully.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she reached for the door handle.
She slowly opened it and stepped inside.
Her father was lying there… peacefully asleep… machines softly beeping around him.
Kiara walked closer and sat beside him.
She gently held his hand… her grip tightening slightly.
"Baba…" her voice trembled.
Tears rolled down her cheeks, one after another.
"I'm here… I'm right here… please get better…"
Her voice broke completely.
She sat there for a long time… silently… watching him breathe… without waking him.
Then slowly… reluctantly… she got up and left.
Kiara got into the car and started heading back home.
Everything felt normal.
Quiet.
Too quiet.
Suddenly—
From a distance—
A rifle was aimed.
A cold, calculated silence filled the air.
Bang!
The sharp sound of the gunshot echoed violently.
The car window shattered instantly.
Glass exploded everywhere.
The driver lost control of the steering wheel.
Before Kiara could even react—
Before she could even scream—
Her head jerked to the side from the impact.
Darkness swallowed her vision.
She lost consciousness.
The car swerved dangerously and finally stopped by the roadside.
Smoke… shattered glass… silence.
And somewhere far away—
A shadow lowered the rifle slowly…
Then disappeared into the darkness.