Even though I hated this place despite the grand architect of it, our house had never felt this cold before.

I stood frozen near the staircase, clutching the end of my Saree so tightly in my fist that my knuckles had turned white. Police officers moved through our home like they had every right to be here, their footsteps echoing against the marble floors.

Shivansh stood in the center of it all.

Perfectly still and composed.

It didn't surprise me that he was still so calm amongst all the chaos happening, but what bothered me was that he wasn't doing anything to save himself from this.

His hands were clasped loosely behind his back, his expression unreadable. The Chief Minister of Maharashtra, accused of crimes that could end everything he had built.

Crimes I knew he didn't commit.

Crimes he could have saved himself from.

If I hadn't burned the evidence.

My chest tightened with the weight of that truth, heavy and suffocating and it burned with the fact that he was innocent and yet there was nothing I could do to prove that.

"Mr. Randhawa," the senior officer said, his voice careful. "You are under arrest for..."

"I know what I am accused of," Shivansh interrupted, his tone flat. "Get on with it."

Even now, even with the law surrounding him, he didn't flinch. Didn't bow. Authority radiated from him like it was woven into his bones.

The officer hesitated, then gestured to his subordinates.

Two men stepped forward, handcuffs gleaming in their hands.

I wanted to scream. Wanted to run to him. Wanted to stop all of this somehow.

But my feet were rooted to the floor, my throat closed with words I knew they wouldn't trust.

And then one of the officers turned toward me.

"Ma'am," he said, his tone polite but firm. "We need you to come with us as well."

My heart stuttered as I instinctively took a step back.

"You are his wife," the officer said. "That makes you a person of interest in this case. We will need your statement."

He reached out, his hand moving toward my arm.

And that was when we all heard it.

"Haath mat lagana use."

Shivansh's voice cut through the room like a blade, sharp and deadly.

I flinched at the sound.

Every one in the room froze.

Shivansh took a slow, deliberate step forward, his eyes locked on the man who had dared to reach for me. His expression was no longer calm. It was cold. Dangerous. The kind of fury that didn't need volume to be terrifying.

"Door rahiye meri biwi se," he said, his voice low and lethal.

The officer stepped back immediately, his hand dropping to his side.

My breath caught.

Meri biwi.

My wife.

The senior officer cleared his throat. "Sir, with all due respect, she is your wife. That makes her connected to the case. We have the authority to..."

"I don't care what authority you think you have," Shivansh interrupted, his voice rising now. "No one is touching her."

"Mr. Randhawa..."

"I SAID, HANDS OFF MY WIFE."

The words echoed through the house, sharp and final.

I trembled where I stood, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might shatter.

I was the one behind all of his problem and yet he was still trying to protect me.

Shivansh's jaw was tight, his fists clenched at his sides. He looked ready to tear them apart with his bare hands, consequences be damned.

"She is not going to give any statement," he said, his voice deadly calm now. "And none of you can force her to. She has nothing to do with all this."

The senior officer hesitated. "Sir, she is your wife. The court..."

"If you are targeting her because she is my wife," Shivansh said quietly, "then let me make something very clear."

And then he turned to me.

His eyes met mine and all I could see in them was concern for me and conflict of whatever was going on in his mind.

And I felt it.

I felt what he was about to say before the words even left his mouth.

No.

Please, no.

Don't say it.

Don't say it out loud.

My mind screamed at him, desperate, pleading. I shook my head slightly, so slightly I wasn't even sure he could see it.

But his expression didn't change.

"We are getting a divorce soon," he said.

The world stopped.

My knees buckled, but I forced myself to stay standing.

No. No, no, no.

"I have already signed the papers."

Each word was a knife, twisting deeper.

"Which means she has nothing to do with me," he continued, his voice steady, emotionless. "Or the charges against me."

I couldn't breathe.

I couldn't think.

I couldn't do anything but stand there and feel my heart crack open in my chest.

He had refused me. Everytime, when I had asked him for a divorce, he had looked me in the eye and told me that he would never let me go.

And now...

Now, when I had finally forgiven him. Now, when I had finally let myself hope that maybe we could fix what had been broken. Now, when I had finally admitted to myself that I loved him...

That I had never stopped loving him.

He let me go.

"Is that enough for you?" Shivansh asked, turning back to the officers.

The senior officer blinked, clearly caught off guard. "Sir, if that's the case, then..."

"It is the case," Shivansh said flatly. "Now stay the fuck away from her."

Silence.

The officers exchanged uncertain glances, then nodded slowly.

"Understood, sir."

Shivansh didn't respond. He simply turned, offering his wrists to the officer with the handcuffs.

The cold metal clicked into place.

And through it all, he didn't look at me again.

Not once.

I stood frozen, my entire world crumbling around me.

I have already signed the papers.

Did he? Really?

The words replayed in my mind over and over, each repetition carving deeper into my chest.

This was my fault.

I had burned the evidence. The only thing that could have saved him. The only proof of his innocence.

I had destroyed it in a moment of anger, of hurt, of betrayal.

And now he was paying the price.

Now he was protecting me from the consequences of my own mistake.

I watched the officers lead him toward the door. His back was straight, his head held high, even in handcuffs. Even now, he looked untouchable.

But I knew better.

I knew the man beneath the armor.

And I knew that his decision was final.

"Shivansh," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

He paused.

Just for a second.

His shoulders tensed. His jaw tightened.

But he didn't turn around.