The moment Trishika uttered the words “Let’s separate,” something inside Chirag snapped. A heartbeat ago, he had been sitting with that easy smile, his gaze soft as he admired his kitten-like wife adjusting her dress on his lap. But in an instant, the smile died, his expression hardened, and the dim light of the room seemed to grow heavier—like even the walls felt the shift in him.

His sunshine-blue eyes, once warm and playful, darkened into an unreadable storm. Without hesitation, his hand shot out, gripping Trishika’s arm. She blinked up at him, startled, her brows knitting in confusion. This wasn’t him. The man she knew had never reached for her like this, never dared to cross the boundary of restraint he always kept. Yet now, his touch was no longer gentle—it was possessive, unyielding, as if he couldn’t let her slip away.