Third Person's POV

Pratham sits on the cold floor, his body curled up over Nitya's motionless form. His fingers tremble as they trace her forehead, brushing away stray strands of her hair. Silent tears streak his face as he leans closer to her, his voice breaking though his sobs.

"I'm sorry, Nitya," he whispers, his tone raw with angst. "But I had to do it. I didn't have a choice."

His tears come harder now, each sob wracking his frame as if telling the tale of the grief that's tearing through his soul.

A hand rests on his shoulder, jolting him from his sorrow.

Sandhya crouches beside him, her expression one of feigned sympathy. "It's okay," she murmurs, her tone almost soothing. "Cry if you must. I understand it's not easy to let go of someone you thought you loved."

Her words are laced with a subtle venom, her eyes flickering with satisfaction as she glances at Nitya's still form.

After a few seconds, she pulls Pratham gently to his feet. "Come," she coos, guiding him toward the couch. "Sit with me."

Pratham collapses onto the couch, his elbows resting on his knees, his head still bowed.

"You'll soon realize you never really loved Nitya," Sandhya says, leaning closer to him. "What you felt for her was just an illusion. What we had was real, Pratham. And once you accept that, we'll have the life we always dreamed of."

He gives her a slight nod, but the very next second, his brow furrows, and he lifts his head to meet her gaze. "You've been working with Uday. What's your relationship with him?"

Sandhya stiffens. "Why does that matter now? We're here, together, aren't we? That's what's important."

"It matters," Pratham says firmly, cutting through her deflection. "If we are going to start fresh, I need to know everything. If you were involved with him-romantically, or otherwise-I need to hear it from you. And I need to know it's over."

"I wasn't involved with him that way," she replies hastily. "I helped him only to get you back. That's all. And now that you're here, with me, Uday means nothing to me."

"That's not enough." Pratham's jaw tightens, and he narrows his eyes at her. "I need to know you'll cut ties with him completely."

Sandhya opens her mouth, intending to reason with him, but he cuts her off before she can utter even one word. "Call him," he demands. "I know Uday is nearby because he would not have let Daksh come here by himself. You must know where he is. Get to him and bring him here."

"How do I-" Sandhya abruptly stops speaking when a low, mocking chuckle fills the room.

Both of them turn toward the door, and notice Uday walking inside the house.

"I had been right outside the door, watching everything," he says, his voice dripping with malice. He saunters inside, his movements leisurely, as if he owns the place. "Now that the set is set," he says, smiling as he gazes at Nitya and Daksh lying motionless in the floor. "I thought it was time to make my entrance."

Pratham lunges at Uday, his fist connecting with the man's face in a brutal punch. Uday stumbles backward, momentarily stunned by the sudden assault. Before he can react, Pratham strikes again, landing another blow that sends him reeling.

"You bastard!" Pratham roars, his voice hoarse with anguish. "You are the reason behind all this happening. You destroyed everything!"

Uday steadies himself, his expression darkening as he raises a fist, ready to retaliate. But before he can, Sandhya steps between them.

"Stop!" She pleads, glancing at Uday. "Let it go. Pratham is grieving and drowning in the guilt of killing Daksh and Nitya."

Uday lowers his fist, straightens his posture, and brushes the blood from the corner of his mouth with a flick of his thumb. His gaze shifts to the bodies on the floor, lingering on Nitya's face.

"I've finally won," he says, his lips curling into a bitter smile.

Pratham glares at him. "Why did you do it, Uday? Why?"

"Nitya was supposed to marry me. She was meant to be mine to keep, mine to use. But you took her from me and tainted her with your filthy hands. The moment she became yours, she was of no use to me. But I couldn't let her breathe in the world she was not mine. So, she had to go. And how ironic is it that the man she loved was the one who killed her." Uday tuts, looking smug as he stares at Pratham's broken form. "You killed two of your own, and now, I'll kill you and destroy your family. Only then will my victory be complete."

"No, you can't kill Pratham. Please, spare him for me," Sandhya requests. "You can do whatever you want with his family. As for us, we'll leave the country and never return."

"You still have a soft spot for him?" Uday asks, shaking his head at Sandhya. "Fine. I can spare him for you because you have helped me so far. But I have one condition."

"I won't agree to any of you condition," Pratham snaps, his voice taut.

"Really? Do you want to die then?" Uday tilts his head, peering at Pratham. "Or, do you want to rot in prison for murdering your brother and wife?"

"What's your condition?" Pratham asks, his voice low and wary.

"It's just one task that you'll need to complete before running off with Sandhya." Uday replies.

Pratham narrows his eyes. "What task?"

"It's not entirely my task, you see. It's a request from one of my partners in crime."

"Who is it?" Pratham questions.

Uday doesn't answer. Instead, he calls out to someone unseen. "Come in. I stopped you earlier, but now it's time to reveal yourself."

When the person called by Uday enters the house, Pratham's breath catches in his throat. His eyes widen in disbelief as he stares at the man standing before him.

"Chachaji?" He whispers, his voice barely audible.

"You killed my son!" Indrajit roars, grabbing Pratham's collar with both hands and shaking him violently. His face contorts with grief and rage as his gaze darts to his son lying on the floor. "You killed my Daksh. My son."

Pratham stumbles, but quickly regains his footing, shoving his uncle off with both hands. His own voice rises, raw and ragged. "Daksh is dead because of you! Because you went against our family and helped Uday."

Indrajit shakes with barely suppressed rage, his face dark with years of resentment bubbling to the surface. "Don't you dare blame me," he spits. "It's because of you and Naman that any of this had to happen."

Pratham stares at him, disbelief mingling with the hurt in his eyes. "What are you saying?"

"After the death of your father, everything should have been mine-the house, the factory, all the property. But no. My own brother betrayed me. He handed it all over to his sons, leaving me with nothing. Nothing. Do you know how that feels, Pratham? To be cast aside like you don't matter?"

"You did this for the house and factory?" Pratham shakes his head. "All this for what? Your greed? Daksh had to die because of your greed?"

Indrajit lets out a broken sob, his gaze once again flickering to his son's body on the floor. "My son," he says, his voice cracking. "At first, I thought he'd also side with you and Naman. But he pleasantly surprised me by standing with me and helping me with everything. But now he's dead. And it's not because of me. It's because of you, Pratham. You killed my son."

"It was an accident," Pratham says. "I didn't mean for it to happen."

"An accident?" Indrajit bellows, his grief further fueling his rage. "You murdered my son, and you'll pay for it. It'll be life for a life. Kill Naman and bring his dead body to me."

"I won't kill my brother. I won't."

"You don't have a choice, Pratham. After you kill Naman, you can flee the country and go wherever you want with Sandhya. I'll handle everyone else. Well, everyone except Shruti."

Pratham's stomach turns at the way his uncle looks at Uday while taking his sister-in-law's name. "What do you mean, except Shruti bhabhi?"

"Because Shruti is mine," Uday declares. "I've heard stories about how fiery she is. I like a challenge. Taming her will be fun for me."

"Don't you dare say another word about her," Pratham snaps, barely controlling himself from lunging at Uday.

Before Uday can reply, Sandhya places a hand on Pratham's arm. "You've no say in this anymore, Pratham. Do as they say, and after that, we'll leave this mess behind. We'll have our happy life, far away from all this."

"Something doesn't add up." Pratham's gaze darts between three faces surrounding him before pausing on Uday. "That day, when you kidnapped Nitya, how did you know when she left the house? Also, there are three routes from here to her parents' village. How did you know which route Yash would be taking?"

"Why does it matter now?" Uday asks.

"I'm curious," Pratham replies, though there's an edge to his voice. "It'll be hard enough to move from the guilt of killing Nitya." He pauses, feeling a lump in his throat as the words leave his mouth, but he pushes through. "If I'm to leave all this behind, I need answers. I can't keep wondering about it and I can't keep missing Nitya when I'll be starting anew with Sandhya."

Uday thoughtfully gazes at Pratham, studying him for a moment. And then, he shrugs. "Fair enough. Anyway, you are so done after killing Daksh and Nitya that you won't be able to harm us in any way after knowing the whole truth."

"What's the whole truth? Tell me."

"Well, Indrajit told me when Nitya left home that day, and regarding the route Yash was going to take, someone else told me about it. Another partner in crime."

"Who is it?" Pratham asks through gritted teeth. "Who told you when no one but only me, Yash, Nitya, and her parents knew about it."

"You answered your own question, Pratham." Uday smirks. "Her parents knew."

Pratham sucks in a breath, the weight of revelation pressing on his chest. His lips part, but no sound comes out at first. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he asks, "What do you mean?"

Instead of answering, Uday turns his head to the door and calls out. "It's time for you to reveal yourself and revel in our victory."

Pratham's pulse pounds in his ears as a familiar figure steps inside through the door. Nitya's father's presence feels like a punch to the gut, knocking the air from his lungs. "It was you?" His voice cracks, disbelief seeping into each syllable.

"Yes, it was me," Kulbhushan says, his expression unapologetic. "I helped Uday."

"How could you do this to Nitya?" Pratham demands, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "She is your daughter. Your own blood."

"Yes, she was my blood," Kulbhushan reiterates in a cold voice. "That's why, the first time I helped Uday in kidnapping her, I did it only after he gave me his word that he would marry her after doing whatever he wanted to scare her and make her submit."

"But why?" Pratham asks, unable to understand. "Why did you help him? How could you not only let Uday abduct your own daughter but also let him hurt her in ways that scarred her so deeply she never really healed?"

"Because she was supposed to marry Uday, not you. I had already given my word to Mahaveerji, and he had promised me a vast land, the one I've had my eye on for quite a long time. But Yash meddled in between and got Nitya married to you." Kulbhushan grits his teeth, glaring at Pratham. "So, when Uday called and promised me the land in return of my help, I agreed to it."

Pratham stands stunned, feeling the burn of betrayal searing through his chest, his heart hurting for his Nitya. "You sold her?" He grips the edge of a nearby table to stop himself from beating the poor excuse of father in front of him. "You betrayed your daughter for a piece of land?"

"I didn't sell her!" Kulbhushan bristles with indignation. "I told you. I helped Uday only after he assured me that no matter how much he harmed her, he would still marry her in the end." His voice is devoid of guilt as he continues, "Anyway, what was wrong in it? Nitya would have been hurt for a while, but she would have accepted her fate and would have started a new life with her new husband. That's women's duty, after all. To accept what men in their lives decide for them."

While Pratham stands speechless, unable to fathom how a father can say such thing about his daughter, Uday reaches out and puts his hand over Kulbhushan's shoulder. "You're right. If everything had gone according to my plan then, after divorcing Pratham, Nitya would have started a new life with me. The one where she would have a clear understanding of a wife's duties and responsibilities." He sighs, shaking his head as he looks at Nitya's body on the floor. "I would've molded her to become such an obedient wife, catering to my needs, jumping through hoops to fulfill my wishes, her whole life revolving around me. It's such a waste that she had to die."

"She deserved to die," Kulbhushan snarls. "She dared to question me and disrespect me, spewing nonsense about women being equal to men. She had gone mad, become rebellious, out of control. She needed to be squashed. Killing her was my justice. My victory."

For a moment, the room is deathly silent, except for the sound of Pratham's shallow breathing. Then, he speaks, his voice trembling with disgust. "You sold your daughter for your greed, and when that didn't work out, you planned to get her killed for your pride?" His gaze sweeps to Uday, Sandhya, Indrajit, and back to Kulbhushan. "You all are monsters. And you all deserve what's coming to you."

"What's with the smug look, Pratham?" Uday frowns. "You're the one trapped in our plan. So why are you smirking?"

"You think I'm trapped," Pratham replies, his voice cold and calm. "You think you've cornered me. But the truth is, you're the ones who've walked straight into my trap."

Before anyone can respond, Yash, Naman, and Shruti step inside the room.

"What is this?" Panic flickers in Uday's eyes.

"Where did they come from?" Indrajit asks, gulping and cowering under Naman's hard stare.

"They were here. Right from the beginning," Pratham answers. "You thought you had me exactly where you wanted me." He crosses his arms, his smirk growing darker. "But the truth is you are exactly where we want you to be."

Naman steps forward, resting his hand over Yash's shoulder, who is staring unblinkingly at his father, in disbelief of what that man did to his own daughter.

"Every move, every lie, every betrayal-it's all led you here," Naman says through his clenched jaw. "Right into the hands of the people who've been waiting to deliver the justice you deserve."

"You said it will be fun taming me." Shruti looks at Uday, her gaze burning with silent fury. "Well, instead of you having fun, it will be me enjoying the sounds of your agony."

The room crackles with tension, the air heavy with the weight of long-hidden truths and fractured relationships. Uday, Sandhya, Indrajit, and Kulbhushan stand frozen, their faces twisted in shock as the realization dawns-they have been outmaneuvered.

Across from them, Pratham stands tall, flanked by Naman, Shruti, and Yash, their gazes resolute, and their stances ready to strike.

In this charged moment, it is undeniable: the final reckoning has begun.