5:47 AM.

The alarm hadn't rung yet.

Aaradhya Sharma was already awake.

She stared at the ceiling in complete silence, afraid to move.

Beside her, Kunal was sleeping.

Or at least, she hoped he was.

His breathing was heavy, uneven, carrying the sharp smell of alcohol that seemed to have permanently settled into their bedroom.

Aaradhya slowly turned her face toward the window.

Dawn hadn't arrived yet.

The room was dark.

Just like every morning.

She carefully pushed the blanket aside.

Her body immediately reminded her that she was not fine.

Pain travelled through her back when she sat up.

She closed her eyes.

Breathed in.

Breathed out.

Don't cry.

Crying made her eyes swell.

Swollen eyes meant concealer.

Concealer took time.

And she couldn't be late.

Not today.

She quietly stepped out of bed.

Her feet touched the cold floor.

She almost stumbled.

Her hand immediately caught the edge of the bedside table.

For a few seconds, she simply stood there.

Then she walked toward the bathroom.

She locked the door.

Only after the lock clicked did she allow herself to breathe.

She looked into the mirror.

The woman staring back at her looked nothing like twenty-one.

Her face was pale.

Her eyes were tired.

There were shadows beneath them that no amount of makeup could completely hide.

She lifted her hair.

There was a faint mark near the side of her neck.

She immediately lowered her hair again.

Her fingers moved to the collar of her nightdress.

She examined herself carefully.

Then she whispered—

"You're okay."

The words sounded ridiculous.

But she said them anyway.

"I'm okay."

She wasn't.

But nobody needed to know that.

Aaradhya opened the small cabinet beneath the sink.

A strip of painkillers sat inside.

She hesitated.

Then took one.

She swallowed it with water.

It wasn't the first time.

It wouldn't be the last.

She washed her face and began getting ready.

Today she wore a brown shirt.

Full sleeves.

High collar.

Every button closed.

She stood in front of the mirror and checked herself again.

Nothing visible.

Good.

Her hair went into a neat bun.

A little foundation.

Concealer.

Mascara.

Lip balm.

No bright lipstick.

No unnecessary jewellry.

No reason for anyone to look at her twice.

That was exactly how she wanted it.

She opened the wardrobe.

Her hand paused over the clothes.

Aaradhya had learned something very early after marriage.

The less noticeable she was, the safer she was.

So she dressed accordingly.

Modestly.

Quietly.

Almost invisibly.

She reached for her handbag.

Then froze.

A sound came from behind her.

"Aaradhya."

Her blood ran cold.

She turned slowly.

Kunal was sitting on the edge of the bed.

His hair was messy.

His eyes were red.

He looked at her clothes.

Then at the clock.

"Where are you going?"

"Office."

He laughed.

"Already?"

"I have to reach by nine."

He stood.

Aaradhya instinctively stepped backward.

Kunal noticed.

His expression changed.

"You think you're very important now?"

"No."

"Then why are you behaving like that?"

"I'm not."

He walked closer.

Aaradhya lowered her eyes.

"Don't start anything, Kunal. Please. I have work."

His jaw tightened.

"Work."

He repeated the word as if it offended him.

"You've been married for one month and already you're behaving like some independent woman."

Aaradhya said nothing.

"Look at me."

She did.

"Who gave you permission to work?"

"My job was already arranged before..."

"Before what?"

She stopped.

She couldn't tell him that the company had strict rules.

She couldn't tell him that she had hidden her marriage.

She couldn't tell him anything that might give him another reason to stop her.

"I need the salary."

His eyes narrowed.

"You need money?"

Aaradhya swallowed.

"For the household."

He laughed again.

"I'll decide what you need."

He moved past her.

Aaradhya stood still.

She waited.

She had learned not to move too quickly when he was angry.

After a moment, Kunal picked up her handbag from the bed.

He threw it toward her.

"Go."

She caught it against her chest.

"Thank you."

He stared at her.

The word seemed to irritate him.

"Don't be late."

"I won't."

"Even five minutes."

Aaradhya nodded.

"I won't."

She walked out.

Only when the apartment door closed behind her did she finally exhale.

By 8:42 AM, Aaradhya entered Rajvansh Group.

She smiled at the receptionist.

"Good morning."

"Good morning, ma'am."

Nobody looking at her would have guessed that she had barely slept.

Nobody would have guessed that every step hurt.

Nobody would have guessed that she had been afraid to leave her own bedroom that morning.

And that was exactly what Aaradhya wanted.

She reached her desk.

Her new desk.

Her new life.

For a moment, she simply looked at it.

Then she smiled.

A real smile.

Small.

Fragile.

But real.

She placed her handbag down.

Opened her laptop.

Started working.

At 9:03 AM, the intercom rang.

"Ms. Sharma?"

She immediately straightened.

"Yes?"

"Mr. Rajvansh wants you in his office."

Her fingers froze over the keyboard.

She remembered yesterday.

The file.

The impossible deadline.

She picked it up and walked toward his office.

Three knocks.

"Come."

She entered.

Rudra didn't look up.

"Where is the report?"

Aaradhya blinked.

"I've completed the first section, sir."

"First section?"

"Yes."

"I asked for the complete report."

"You gave it to me yesterday."

"And?"

"I worked on it after I went home."

Rudra finally looked up.

"You bought file to home?"

She nodded.

"Yes, sir."

"Then why isn't it finished?"

Aaradhya tightened her fingers around the file.

"I needed some documents from the finance department."

"That's your problem."

"Yes, sir."

He stood.

His height and presence seemed to fill the entire room.

"From today onward, I don't want excuses."

"I'm not making an excuse."

His eyebrows rose.

For a moment, Aaradhya realized she'd spoken too quickly.

"Sorry, sir."

Rudra stared at her.

She looked nervous.

But not flirtatious.

Not manipulative.

Just nervous.

He couldn't understand her.

That irritated him even more.

He picked up another file.

"Prepare this."

She took it.

"And this."

Another.

"And these."

Three more files landed on her desk.

Aaradhya stared at the growing pile.

"Sir..."

"You have a problem?"

"No."

"Good."

He walked back toward his chair.

"And I want everything before lunch."

Her eyes widened.

There were at least six hours of work there.

It was already nine fifteen.

But she nodded.

"Yes, sir."

She turned.

"Miss Sharma."

She stopped.

Rudra's eyes moved over her completely buttoned collar.

Again, that suspicion appeared.

"You always dress like that?"

Aaradhya touched the collar unconsciously.

"Like what, sir?"

"Covered."

She looked down.

"I prefer formal clothes."

"Of course."

His tone made her uncomfortable.

She didn't understand what he meant.

She simply nodded and left.

Rudra watched the door close.

He leaned back.

Something about her bothered him.

She didn't behave like the women who usually entered his office.

She didn't smile unnecessarily.

Didn't flirt.

Didn't ask personal questions.

Didn't even seem interested in him.

And yet he refused to believe it was genuine.

Another strategy.

He would figure it out.

He always did.

At 1:17 PM, Aaradhya was still working.

She hadn't eaten.

Her hands were beginning to shake.

She ignored them.

The painkiller had worn off.

Pain slowly returned through her back and shoulders.

She pressed her lips together.

Just finish.

She continued typing.

At 1:41 PM, Rudra walked out of his office.

His eyes immediately landed on her.

"You haven't finished."

"I'm almost done, sir."

"Almost?"

"Five minutes."

"You had four hours."

"I know."

"Then you should have finished."

Aaradhya lowered her gaze.

"I'm sorry."

He looked at her.

For some reason, her apology irritated him.

"Do you know what happens to people who are inefficient in my company?"

She nodded.

"They're fired."

"Yes, sir."

"Then work faster."

He walked away.

Aaradhya stared at the screen.

A single tear gathered in her eye.

She blinked it away.

Not here.

Never here.

She finished the work at 1:56 PM.

Then printed everything.

She carried the documents into his office.

"Sir."

Rudra took the file.

He flipped through it.

Silence.

Aaradhya waited.

Finally—

"Acceptable."

One word.

For some strange reason, relief washed over her.

"Thank you, sir."

She turned to leave.

"Wait."

She stopped.

"Prepare tomorrow's presentation."

"Tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"By what time?"

"Eight AM."

Her heart sank.

She looked at the clock.

It was nearly two.

That meant she would have to work late again.

And Kunal had warned her.

She swallowed.

"Yes, sir."

Rudra watched her carefully.

There.

That hesitation.

He saw it.

And interpreted it completely wrong.

She's calculating how much more she can get away with.

"One more thing."

"Yes, sir?"

"I don't care what personal problems you have."

Aaradhya's eyes lowered.

"Understood."

"Work comes first."

She nodded.

"Yes, sir."

She left.

Rudra didn't know why her expression had changed.

He didn't know that his words had frightened her.

He didn't know that she was already calculating the quickest route home.

He didn't know that she was terrified of being late.

And he certainly didn't know why.

At 7:18 PM, Aaradhya finally shut down her computer.

The presentation was almost complete.

She gathered her things and hurried toward the elevator.

She checked her phone.

Seven missed calls.

All from Kunal.

Her hands became cold.

She called him.

He answered immediately.

"Where are you?"

"Leaving the office."

"Time?"

"Seven eighteen."

Silence.

Aaradhya closed her eyes.

"I'm coming."

"You said you'd be home before seven."

"I'm sorry. My boss gave me extra work."

"I don't care."

"Kunal—"

The call ended.

Aaradhya stood inside the elevator.

Her reflection stared back at her.

She whispered—

"Please."

She didn't know whether she was talking to God, herself, or fate.

"Just let me get home safely."

She reached home at 8:02 PM.

The apartment was dark.

Too dark.

Aaradhya opened the door slowly.

"Kunal?"

No answer.

She stepped inside.

Her handbag slipped from her shoulder.

The living room smelled of alcohol.

Then she heard footsteps.

Aaradhya froze.

Kunal appeared from the hallway.

His face was expressionless.

That was worse than anger.

"You're late."

"I'm sorry."

"You promised."

"I tried."

"Don't."

He raised his voice.

"I don't want excuses."

Aaradhya's eyes filled with tears.

"I'm really sorry."

She tried to move past him.

His hand caught her arm.

She flinched.

"Where were you?"

"Office."

"With whom?"

"My boss."

The moment she said it, his expression darkened.

"Your boss?"

Aaradhya immediately shook her head.

"It's only work."

"Of course."

He let go.

She stepped back.

"Please. I'm tired."

For a moment, he simply stared at her.

Then he turned away.

"Make dinner."

Aaradhya looked at the clock.

8:15.

Her body was exhausted.

Her head hurt.

Her back burned.

But she went to the kitchen.

Because arguing would only make things worse.

She prepared dinner silently.

Served him.

Didn't eat herself.

Kunal complained about the food.

Then the rice.

Then the temperature.

Then the fact that she hadn't waited for him.

Every complaint became another accusation.

Aaradhya stood quietly.

She didn't defend herself.

She had learned that explanations didn't protect her.

Eventually, Kunal walked away.

Aaradhya remained standing in the kitchen.

Her hands rested against the counter.

Her eyes closed.

One tear slipped down her cheek.

She wiped it immediately.

Then looked toward the clock.

Tomorrow.

She had to wake up tomorrow.

Work tomorrow.

Rudra tomorrow.

Another impossible deadline.

Another day of pretending.

Another day of hiding.

She walked into the bedroom.

Opened her drawer.

Took out the painkillers.

Then stopped.

She stared at the strip for a long moment.

Her hand trembled.

Finally, she took one.

Because tomorrow morning she would wake up.

Dress herself.

Button her shirt to the neck.

Hide every mark.

Smile at everyone.

And walk back into the office.

Because Aaradhya Sharma had discovered something more important than happiness.

Survival.

And sometimes survival meant pretending you weren't drowning—

while everyone around you believed you were perfectly fine.