
The next evening arrived like a slow-burning fuse.
Priya had said nothing all day. No accusations, no icy silences, no sudden demands for explanations. She moved through the house with the same cool elegance she always had—silk saree draped perfectly, diamond studs catching the light, voice soft when she spoke to the driver or the cook. But her eyes followed Rajesh whenever he entered a room, and they lingered on Maya with something far more dangerous than anger: curiosity laced with hunger.





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