The suffocating silence that settled over the grand receiving lounge was thick enough to choke on. The guards had locked down the perimeter with military precision, sealing every exit, corridor, and iron gate of the Rathore estate. Shivanya felt a cold, shivering panic pool in her stomach, her fingers digging instinctively into the black fabric of her saree as she pressed closer to Abhimaan. Around the room, the other family members exchanged pale, terrified glances, bracing themselves for whatever catastrophe had prompted such a violent security response. Only Advay stood completely still, his posture strangely relaxed, a cold, detached amusement flickering in his eyes.

Fifteen minutes later, the heavy mahogany doors swung open. Two massive Rathore security guards marched in, dragging a sobbing, disheveled Priyasha between them. They released her abruptly, letting her collapse onto the polished marble floor near the center of the room. She hadn't escaped across the estate lines at all; she had merely panicked under the weight of the evening's horrors and hidden away in the dark shadows of the sprawling rear gardens.