The sunlight crept lazily into the penthouse, painting the marble floors in soft gold. Yashika stood by the balcony, sipping her coffee absentmindedly, her eyes wandering to the city skyline. Her mind was restless—between the storm of emotions from last night and the heaviness of living with Shaurvik, she hardly had the space to breathe.

It was Avirath’s birthday that evening. The Shekhawat mansion would be flooded with guests, relatives, business tycoons, politicians—the kind of gathering where appearances mattered more than emotions. Yashika wasn’t sure how she would face it all.