𝐃 𝐈 𝐒 𝐂 𝐋 𝐀 𝐈 𝐌 𝐄 𝐑

"I am sorry... for denying the honeymoon suddenly. And thank you... for defending me downstairs."

I inhaled deeply.
Stood up.
Faced him.

There was confidence in my posture-not arrogance, not bitterness. Just certainty.

His aura still intimidated me, of course.
Par uss aura ka laur-rehne deti hu.

I spoke calmly.

"Rakshas-" I corrected myself immediately, "-mera matlab, Ranawat Sahab... yo maine tere khatar na kiya. Apne khatar kiya se."
{-I mean, Mr. Ranawat... I didn't do this for you. I did it for myself.}

He folded his arms, studying me carefully.

"Woh kyukar, vakeel sahiba?" he asked.
{How? Advocate madam.}

I met his gaze without flinching.

"Ji? Ib main kise paraye mard gail honeymoon pe thodi na ja saku hun."