The ride home was uneventful. Aditi slept. Darsh drove in silence, his mind whirring with emotions, trying to make sense of the eventful night. The woman beside him, who he claimed to understand well, was more complicated than he thought. A pure white unicorn, he'd believed her to be. But he'd forgotten unicorns were dangerous creatures, mystical and deadly, naturally equipped with lethal horns to defend themselves when threatened.

Parking his Range Rover at the porch of Sharma House, he got out to find her still asleep. Her head lolled aside, her face was calm as if in a dreamy sleep. He tried to shake her awake when he realized she was burning with fever. Pursing his lips, he gathered her in his arms and turned, only to find Mohit racing down the front steps.

"Di! What happened to her?" Mohit asked, panic-stricken.

"She's unconscious. Help me take her to her room. We need to call Dr. Wadhwa. Is there any woman in the house?" His questions came rapidly, making Mohit frown in confusion. Then he noticed the blood dripping down his sister.

"What the...?" His eyes widened in shock.

"It's her wound. I think it's opened up." Darsh let out a strangled sigh.

His irritation was building up. So this was her plan to free herself - to risk herself, to offer herself as bait and make the kill. Now she didn't need rescuing, nor did she have to agree to an unwanted marriage. The engagement was fake. He could see her breaking it the next morning. The ring he'd so lovingly chosen would be returned to him unceremoniously and the one he'd acquired after so much meticulous planning would have to be given up.

It was unfair. He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve to be treated like the utter moron that he clearly was.

"Now hurry up and help me, don't just stand staring!" He lashed at a confused Mohit and rushed up the steps. The boy looked at him bewildered, then did as he was told.

Muscles stretched taut with tension he carried her three stories up to her luxurious bedroom. If it was up to him, he would have carried her all the way to Delhi and locked her in the basement of his house for the rest of her life. His blood bubbled with insane anger. She had used him. She had used him as a trophy fiance to provoke Vivaan Raisingh. The coy smiles, the passionate dance, it was all just a show. The kiss too was probably a last-minute improvisation, a spur-of-a-moment idea sprouted in her devious brain to rile Vivaan further up. A red-white fury burned his throat souring his mouth. The taste of the magical kiss he'd savored a while ago somehow turned to ashes.

Kicking the door open, he laid her on the bed. Soon the lady in charge of the kitchen was woken up to tend to her. Sometime later Dr. Wadhwa arrived, and they left him to do his job. Outside the room, Darsh paced ashen-faced while Mohit stood with brows scrunched, eyeing him patiently.

"So what happened? How did Di get hurt?"

Darsh gave Mohit a look. The boy was young, hardly twenty. He wondered if he could be trusted with the story. The story in which his best friend had tried to molest his sister and was killed. Or the story in which his sister had feigned self-defense and killed his best friend. Darsh sighed. He could see there was no other way. He had to lie, and it had to be a convincing lie, maybe he'd be better off with the one the family already believed to be true.

"It was dark. She hurt herself on a broken branch."

Mohit pursed his lips, then went silent. He had seen the two of them escaping in the gardens. That was before he'd had enough of the party and decided to head home.

They waited patiently. After nearly half an hour, Dr. Wadhwa came out, wiping his sweaty brow, his weathered face drawn with worry.

"I have fixed the sutures, but I think there might be an infection in the wound. I think it's best to take her to Rajpur."

Darsh listened rigidly, his face hardly showing any emotion. Inside his pockets, his fingers curled into tight fists, his ring scratching against the cold metal heart.

"How bad is it?"

"Quite." The doctor frowned. "It looks like it's been neglected for too long. I am surprised, I didn't expect such a shoddy job from Aditi."

"Has she woken up? Can I talk to her?" Mohit asked, the strain of the situation clearly showing on his young face.

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The doctor shook his head. "I think it's best to let her rest."

Shoulders slumping in disappointment, Mohit turned to leave. Darsh stormed away, his temper getting the better of him.

*****

That night Darsh stayed in a guest room of the Sharma Residence. Sometime later, Balwant Sharma returned with his lawyer friend. The two men had a quiet chat in the lounge before Dawar too retired to the guest room next to his.

Later in the night, Mansi returned with her daughter and rushed her to her room before her frantic sobs woke anyone up. Nidhi was acting weirdly. She had spotted Vivaan at the party and followed him into the garden, hoping to talk to him. Now that Aditi was out of the way, the girl was ecstatic that she finally had a chance with Vivaan. An hour ago she had returned, frazzled and frightened, and had collapsed into her mother's lap, sobbing helplessly.

Mansi patted her daughter's brow as she tucked her in. The girl was silly to pine after that violent monster. Mansi couldn't believe he was lurking around when Aditi was getting engaged. She had to be careful. Vivaan Raisingh was still a no-go and now Dalpat Raisingh too. After tonight's engagement, she too would have to find a new benefactor to keep up with her husband's debts.

*****

The next morning was quiet. Aditi found herself in Rajpur hospital recovering in a post-op room. They had done a small surgery to remove the infected tissue from her thigh. They had also removed tiny glass pieces that were stuck deep in the flesh, making it impossible to heal properly.

Aditi sighed. She had never taken a proper look at that wound. Sewing it shut, making it look better, was always her priority. Delving deeper than necessary might awake something nasty. It was better it stayed buried. Whatever was inside had to stay inside, she was getting used to it anyway.

"You are a bad doctor." A deep voice rumbled in her head. She smiled. Yes, he would definitely say that. Maybe she was a bad doctor, at least for herself.

She closed her eyes and tried to lie quietly. She couldn't move a muscle even if she wanted to. Her brain was numb, her body felt like lead under the effect of anesthesia. Kanta Chachi, who'd rushed to be by her side, eyed her quietly. There was no conversation. The woman was too perceptive to ask unnecessary questions.

The room was far from quiet though. Hushed voices emitted from a corner as she turned her head to them. Darsh stood near her Dadaji, who sat in a plastic chair looking unusually pale. Mohit, too, somehow had joined them, making her wonder what the three of them were cooking. Whatever it was, she couldn't care less. She had taken care of the biggest problem of her life and now all she wanted was to rest.

A weary sigh escaped her lip. The trio of men stopped talking and glanced in her direction.

Darsh broke from the group and walked towards her his dark eyes locked on her. His broad frame filled her vision, for a moment there was no space for others.

"Feeling better?" He asked, placing a proprietary hand on her brow. She felt her cheeks heating. Neither her Dadaji nor Mohit batted an eyelid. Nor did Kanta Chachi, who blushed herself and scurried out of the room on the pretext of getting tea.

He sat on the bed and straightened her covers. She noticed her father's ring sitting snugly on his finger.

"It suits me, doesn't it?" He said with a hint of pride giving the ring a little twirl, then reached for her cold hand with his large, warm one. Lifting it to his face he examined her delicate ring. The object was light, yet heavy enough to make its presence known. Probably just the effect its buyer intended her to feel.

"And this one suits you perfectly." He bent down and pecked her finger before tucking her hand under the blanket. She felt herself flushing.

She wished she knew what was going through his mind. Surely he knew the engagement was not going to last? He should be furious, he should be upset, resentful, angry, even disgusted! He had every right after what she'd done last night. Hell, for a moment she'd even hoped he would break the engagement himself. But here he was, looking cool as a cucumber as if nothing was amiss.

Maybe he was biding his time. He would show his hand once the others were out of the room. The thought made her feel unbearably weary. She turned her face away when his silent voice rumbled through her ears.

"They found him. He is in this hospital." He kept his tone as light as possible.

Her eyes widened. "Is he...?"

"Alive. The doctors are operating." She stared speechless, her face turning ashen. He continued conversationally. "The police are here, they might want your statement. For the record, you were with me in the garden, doing whatever we were supposed to do. That's the alibi for both of us. I have recovered your saree from the river and my man has cleared the vomit. They have nothing to go on."

Her face reddened, her mouth fell open. "There was no need. It was self-defense..."

His eyes flashed. "It was cold-blooded, pre-planned." Murder. He didn't say it, but she heard it anyway. Her eyes teared up.

"I did what I had to do. You have no right to judge..."

"You should have left it to me, Aditi. I am your future husband."

"Not for long." She snapped, forgetting they were not alone. "I don't want this, I was forced..." She tried to lift her arm to pull off his ring, but it was too much of an effort for her sedated body. Her Dadaji threw her a worried glance.

Darsh patted her cheek and wiped her tear. "Behave. Dadaji is already looking peaky. Dalpat Raisingh nearly gave him a heart attack last night. Don't make it harder for him."

She looked aghast. "What?... How?"

"We can discuss it later." He shrugged. "Meanwhile, just remember, we use the same ruse for your wound that you used before. You grazed it last night against a branch."

"But..." She sank in her pillows, the air in her lungs suddenly gushing out. The relief she'd felt last night vanished, the dead weight firmly back in her queasy stomach.

"Please..." Her lips quivered. "I can't..."

"Hush. They are coming." He stood aside and straightened his jacket, taking his usual stance with feet wide apart, hands stuffed in pockets. She swallowed an uneasy lump as IG Police entered, along with Inspector Tiwari.

***** *****