The haveli was still wrapped in the soft hush of early morning when Ananya entered the formal dining hall. Dawn light filtered through the tall arched windows in pale gold shafts. Vikram sat at the head of the long mahogany table. Black kurta crisp. Steaming cup of masala chai untouched in front of him. His face looked carved from stone. But his eyes tracked her every movement with the raw intensity of a man who had not slept a single second after what he had witnessed in that mirror last night. After watching her beg on all fours. After hearing her scream his name while she squirted on lavender sheets and kept her eyes locked on his the entire time. The air between them already crackled with the memory of it.
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