The two weeks following the Paris excursion had felt like a rare, borrowed peace. The tension that usually clung to the Singh household had dissipated, replaced by a tentative harmony. Vinayak and Ridhu had finally opened their hearts to Kajal, formally accepting her as their elder daughter-in-law. Though Avni was older in years, the family hierarchy dictated that because Vivek was the eldest son, his wife, Kajal, held the senior position—a tradition the family now embraced with warmth. Even Kajal’s family had found peace with the arrangement, their gratitude for the way Vivek had shielded their daughter outweighing any lingering doubts.
For Avni and Divyansh, life had transitioned into a beautiful, rhythmic perfection. The distance that once defined their arranged marriage had vanished, replaced by an intimacy that grew more profound with each passing night. In the quiet sanctuary of their bedroom, they found a connection that was both tender and fierce. Divyansh was ever-watchful, his every touch a silent promise of safety, ensuring that Avni felt cherished and completely at ease in their shared vulnerability.
One late night, while they were still enveloped in the afterglow of their lovemaking, the shrill ring of Divyansh’s phone shattered the silence. It was Vivek.
"Yes, Bhai? Why are you calling at this hour?" Divyansh asked, his voice thick with feigned sleep.
"Divya, listen to me," Vivek’s voice was sharp with urgency. "I’m at the police station. They’ve finally tracked down the waiter from your birthday party."
The air in the room suddenly felt cold. Avni and Divyansh sat bolt upright, the peaceful haze of the night instantly replaced by a cold dread. While Avni scrambled to get dressed, Divyansh pressed the phone to his ear.
"Did he talk? Did he say why he did it?" Avni asked, her fingers trembling as she buttoned her shirt.
"He confessed," Vivek replied. "He said someone paid him to loosen the disco ball and has been paying him ever since to stay hidden from the police. The officers have already gone to arrest the benefactor. They haven't given me a name yet, but they need both of you here immediately. Hurry."
"We’re on our way. We’ll be there in fifteen minutes," Divyansh promised, already reaching for his clothes.
The drive was a blur of high speed and agonizing questions. "Who would do this?" Divyansh mused, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. "I haven't crossed anyone this way. Avni, do you have some kind of psychotic ex lurking in the shadows?"
Avni shot him a look that was half-annoyed and half-terrified. "Shut up! I don’t have 'exes.' If I did, I might not have ended up in an arranged marriage with you." Her voice then dropped to a low, dangerous hiss. "When I find out who did this, I’m going to gouge their eyes out."
"My, you really do love me," Divyansh teased, though his eyes remained fixed on the road.
"Just drive faster," she snapped, rolling her eyes.
When they skidded to a halt at the police station, Avni was out of the car before Divyansh could even turn the engine off. She sprinted inside, her heart hammering against her ribs. As she burst into the room, the scene before her stopped her cold.
Her Chacha, Chachi, and her cousin Amol stood before the inspector. Vivek and Avyansh were already there, their faces masks of pure fury as they glared at Amol.
"Chacha ji? Chachi? Amol? What are you all doing here?" Avni’s voice was a whisper of disbelief.
"Avni, look at what this inspector is saying!" Chachi shrieked, her voice grating and full of feigned indignation. "They’ve dragged Amol here for no reason!"
The inspector stepped forward, his expression grim. "Mrs. Singh, the waiter has provided a full statement. He identified Mr. Amol Sinha as the person who paid him to sabotage the disco ball to ensure it fell on Mr. Divyansh Singh. He also confirmed that Amol has been paying him monthly to hide. He is being charged under Sections 109 and 249 of the IPC."
The room fell into a suffocating silence. Avni felt as if the floor had disappeared beneath her. Why? The question echoed in the void of her mind. Divyansh reached out, his hand steadying hers as he looked at her devastated face.
"He's lying! They’re framing my son!" Arti, Avni’s Chachi, screamed, her voice cracking. "Why would he ever hurt his own brother-in-law?"
"Ma’am, we have the evidence," the inspector countered coolly. "We have the WhatsApp records between them. It’s all there: the orders to drop the ball, the payment schedules, everything."
"I knew it," Avyansh growled, lunging forward to grab Amol by his collar. "I knew you were capable of this!" Officers quickly stepped in to pull them apart.
"Where did the money come from?" Avni asked, her voice hollow and barely audible.
The inspector produced a folder. "We tracked the account. The funds were coming from Vishwas Sinha’s account. Amol has been siphoning money from his own father to pay for this attempted murder."
"He used my money to harm my husband," Avni whispered, the realization hitting her like a physical blow. Every cent she had funneled into that household to support them had been turned into a weapon against the man she loved.
Vishwas Sinha, her Chacha, buried his face in his hands, weeping openly. "It’s your fault," he spat at his wife, his grief turning to rage. "You spoiled him, you defended him, and now he’s a monster!"
"No! Don’t trust them, Avni!" Arti shrieked, throwing herself toward her niece. "He’s your brother! He’s family!"
Divyansh stepped firmly between them, shielding Avni. But Avni didn't need protection. She gently moved his hand aside and stepped toward Amol. Without a word, she delivered a slap so powerful it sent him sprawling to the station floor.
"I supported you for years!" Avni screamed, her voice raw with betrayal. "I paid for your lifestyle, your hobbies, everything! And you tried to kill my husband in return? You ungrateful, pathetic brat!"
"How dare you touch him, you orphan!" Arti barked, pulling Amol up.
"Shut up, Arti!" Vishwas roared. "How much more do we have to be humiliated by you two?"
Avni turned to the inspector, her eyes like flint. "Arrest him. I want him to rot." She looked at Vivek. "Vivek, ensure he never sees the sun from outside a cell. No bail."
Finally, she turned to the man she had called Chacha. "I respected you. I was grateful for the home you gave me after my parents died. I bought you a house, I paid your bills, and I kept sending money even after I married. And this is how it ends. Get out of my house. Every penny stops tonight. Forget you ever knew me."
She turned and walked out of the station, her back straight but her soul weary.
Divyansh started to follow her, but Vivek caught his arm. "Let Avyansh go to her. You need to sign the FIR."
Divyansh stood over Amol one last time. "I don't even know what I did to earn your hatred, and frankly, I don't care," he said, his voice dropping to a terrifyingly calm register. "But you hurt my wife. For that, you will pay everything you have."
He turned to the broken Chacha. "She loved you, chacha ji . But your son and your wife have made a permanent enemy today."
Divyansh picked up the pen and signed the FIR with a steady hand, formalizing the case against Amol and the waiter, closing the door on a family he had once tried to join, and opening a new chapter of fierce, protective love for the woman who had truly become his wife.
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