Katha's Pov

I was sitting on the edge of the bed, my leg bouncing nervously. I had just sold my soul to Rohini Rathore, and now I was waiting for the fallout.

The door opened.

Dhruv walked in. He didn't look angry. He didn't look happy. He looked... resolved. Like a man who had just signed a treaty he knew he would regret but signed anyway.

He walked straight to the massive walk-in closet and pulled a suitcase from the top shelf. He tossed it onto the bed next to me.

"Pack your bags," he stated simply.

My heart dropped into my stomach.

"You..." I stood up, panic rising in my throat. "You are throwing me out? No! Dhruv, you can't! Our contract is not over! Clause 12 says—"

"Relax," he cut me off, unbuttoning his cuffs. He looked at me, a flicker of amusement in his tired eyes. "I wish I could throw you out. It would be much quieter around here."

He stepped closer, his voice softening.

"We are going to Goa. As you wished."

I blinked. "Goa?"

"Yes," he sighed. "My mother... she insists."

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. It worked. It actually worked.

"Oh," I whispered, trying to look surprised. "Okay. Umm... with the car, right? Like a road trip?"

Dhruv rolled his eyes. "Why not? If we are going to hell, might as well enjoy the drive."

I looked down at my hands, guilt washing over me. I had manipulated him. I had used his trauma against him.

"Dhruv..." I started, my voice small.

Dhruv stopped moving. He turned around slowly. He walked up to me until he was invading my personal space again, but this time, there was no threat in his stance. Just a quiet, piercing intelligence.

"Do you think I am a fool, Katha?" he asked softly.

My head snapped up. "Wh... what? What do you mean?"

He tilted his head, studying my face. "Don't be so innocent. It doesn't suit you."

He reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

"I know her," he murmured. "She hasn't spoken a kind word to me in twenty years. She threw a glass at my head last night. And suddenly, today, she calls me to her room? She worries about my health? She calls me... son?"

He let out a short, dry laugh.

"How come she changed so drastically after meeting you this morning?"

I froze. "Dhruv, I..."

"I don't want to know," he interrupted, placing his finger gently on my lips to silence me. "I don't want to know what you said to her. Or what deal you made."

I felt tears prick my eyes. "I am so sorry, Dhruv. I shouldn't have done it. I just thought..."

"Don't be sorry," he whispered, moving his finger to trace my jawline. "Thank you."

I stared at him, confused. "Thank you? But... it was fake concern! She's not a good actor, Dhruv. She hates you!"

"I know," he said, his voice devoid of bitterness, just heavy with acceptance. "I know it was acting. I know she probably wants me out of the house so Arav can play CEO for a week."

He stepped back, looking at the ceiling for a moment.

"I was raised by nannies, Katha. Rohini never talked to me unless it was to tell me to stay out of sight. I know she doesn't love me."

He looked back at me, his eyes shining with a vulnerability that broke my heart.

"But I care about her," he admitted. "Because... sometimes, when she is sad, I see my mother in her. She has the same eyes."

He walked over to the window, looking out at the grounds.

"My mother used to cry," he said softly. "Rohini cries too. There is no fault of hers, Katha. Her husband betrayed her. He brought a strange child into her home and forced her to raise him. That woman has gone through hell in her life. I respect her for surviving it."

I looked at his back.

Oh, Dhruv.

He was too good for this world. Rohini wanted to destroy him. She wanted to use me to rob him blind. And here he was, justifying her hatred, finding a way to respect the woman who treated him like a disease.

He wasn't a shark. He was a saint with a bruised heart.

I wiped my eyes quickly. I couldn't let him see me cry. He didn't need my pity; he needed my strength.

"Okay," I said, forcing a brightness into my tone. "I will pack the bags."

I walked over to the suitcase, unzipping it with a loud zip.

"It's just us, right?" I asked, looking over my shoulder. "No security? No bodyguards watching me sleep?"

Dhruv turned around. The heaviness in his posture lifted slightly. He smirked.

"Yeah. Just us," he agreed. "But behave like a good girl with me. It's a long drive."

I laughed, feeling the tension melt away. "I am always a good girl, Mr. Rathore. It's you who has the temper."

I looked into the empty suitcase.

"But... I have a problem," I pouted, looking at him. "I don't have clothes for Goa. All I have are these kurtis and... well, jeans."

Dhruv leaned against the dresser, crossing his arms. He looked me up and down, a playful glint returning to his eyes.

"Buy them," he said casually. "Buy as many as you want. I won't stop you."

"Really?" I teased, stepping closer to him. "Even the short ones? Even the expensive ones?"

Dhruv’s gaze darkened slightly, dropping to my legs.

"Especially the short ones," he murmured.

He cleared his throat, pushing off the dresser. "Go shopping. Use the card I gave you. But be back by evening. We leave at dawn."

"Yes, Sir!" I saluted him.

He shook his head, suppressing a smile, and walked toward the bathroom.

I watched him go, feeling a flutter of excitement in my chest that had nothing to do with the trip.

We were going to Goa. Just the two of us.

I was going to show him the beach. I was going to make him forget the pain. And maybe... just maybe... I was going to make him realize that he didn't need to buy affection.

He already had it.

Location: Phoenix Palladium Mall, High-End Wing Time: 2:30 PM

The glass doors of the luxury boutique swung open, and I stepped into the air-conditioned heaven of designer fashion.

Trailing behind me was Nisha, a young girl from the manor’s housekeeping staff whom I had dragged along for moral support (and to carry the bags, because let's be real, I planned to do damage).

"Ma'am," Nisha whispered, looking around at the chandeliers and velvet ottomans with wide eyes. "This store... one dress here costs more than my whole village."

I laughed, patting my purse where the heavy Titanium card sat like a loaded weapon.

"Don't worry, Nisha," I winked at her. "The boss said 'unlimited'. And I am very obedient."

I walked over to the rack of summer dresses. My fingers trailed over silks, chiffons, and linens.

Goa, I thought, a thrill shooting through me. Sun. Sand. Dhruv.

I pulled out a flowy, backless yellow sundress. It was bright. It was happy. It was everything the Rathore Manor wasn't.

"Take this," I handed it to Nisha.

I moved to the next rack. A short, white crochet dress that ended mid-thigh.

“Especially the short ones,” Dhruv’s voice echoed in my head, his dark eyes darkening even further.

I bit my lip to hide a smile.

Oh, you want short, Mr. Rathore? I’ll give you short.

I grabbed the dress. And a blue romper. And a pair of denim shorts that looked scandalously comfortable.

Then, I saw it.

The swimwear section.

I froze.

Mannequins stood posing in bikinis that looked like they were made of gold thread and confidence.

I walked over slowly. My heart gave a little traitorous thump.

I imagined myself on the beach. I imagined Dhruv lying on a sunbed, wearing sunglasses, looking grumpy and hot. I imagined walking out of the ocean...

Stop it, Katha! I mentally slapped myself, my cheeks heating up. You are going to help him heal, not to give him a cardiac arrest.

But then again... healing requires distraction, right?

I reached out and picked up a crimson red bikini. It was bold. It was fiery. It tied at the neck and hips with delicate strings.

"Ma'am?" Nisha squeaked from behind me. "That is... very little cloth."

"It's for swimming, Nisha," I said, trying to sound professional while my face burned.

"I'll try it," I decided.

I marched into the trial room, my arms full of silk and lace.

I locked the door and stripped off my jeans. I pulled on the white crochet dress first.

I spun in front of the mirror. It hugged my curves perfectly, the hem hitting just where I wanted it to. I looked... expensive. I looked like a woman who didn't have to worry about rent.

"Not bad, Mrs. Rathore," I whispered to my reflection, striking a pose. "Not bad at all."

Then, I picked up the red bikini.

My hands shook slightly as I tied the strings.

I stepped back.

Whoa.

The red popped against my skin. It was daring. It showed off my waist, the curve of my hips, the dip of my collarbone.

I traced a hand down my side, imagining Dhruv's rough, bandaged hand resting there.

He said I’m beautiful, I remembered. He said he likes it.

A shy, giddy giggle bubbled up in my throat. I felt like a queen.

I looked at the mirror, arching an eyebrow.

"Okay, Dhruv," I whispered to his imaginary reflection. "You want to play cool? Let's see how cool you are when I wear this to the beach."

I changed back into my clothes, my heart soaring.

I swung the trial room door open. Nisha rushed forward to take the clothes.

"We are taking them all," I announced happily. "Every single one."

"All of them?" Nisha gasped. "Ma'am, the bill..."

I pulled out the black metal card and tapped it against my lips, grinning.

"My husband said there is nothing he can't do," I said, walking toward the counter with a sway in my hips. "Let's see if paying for my wardrobe is his superpower."

I walked to the cashier, feeling lighter than air.

I was going to Goa. I had a suitcase full of weapons disguised as dresses. And I had a grumpy billionaire husband to tease.

Life, for the first time in forever, felt absolutely perfect.