The morning after that first, brutal night dawned with a silence that felt like a held breath. Chandni woke in her own cold bed, the memory of Aadiv's detached touch etched into her skin like a brand. She moved through her morning routine with mechanical precision, but her eyes, in the mirror, held a shattered look she couldn't disguise. The Ice Queen had been cracked.

Aadiv, across the hall, had already erased the physical evidence. But the memory of the bloodstain, that small, stark proof of a violation he hadn't even considered, lingered. It added a new, corrosive layer to his resentment. Now, his hatred for her was polluted with a disgust for himself. He had sunk to her level, becoming a instrument of cold cruelty. The thought sickened him.