The breakfast table was set, as usual, with an array of dishes that filled the air with the scent of fresh toast, eggs, and chai. Aira sat elegantly at the table, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she finished eating.

"Nashta lagaya aur bulaya bhi nahi?" Mubashra noticed.

Aira wiped her mouth with her napkin and got up with a big smile.

"Lagaya? Kabh ka khatam bhi ho gaya. Mohib aur uncle office ja chuke hain. Aur abh main bhi ja rahi hoon."

Mubashra gripped the edge of her sleeve tightly, her knuckles white as she watched the servant clean up the table. Mubashra's lips thinned, and a rush of indignation surged through her.

Zaid, ever perceptive of his wife's emotions, leaned in closer. "Let it go," he whispered, his voice low but firm.

Mubashra turned her head sharply towards him, her eyes flashing with anger as the maid left the room. "Let it go? Is ke aane se mujhe bhool jayein ge?"

Zaid placed a calming hand on her arm. "They're not doing it on purpose," he sighed before continuing with a suggestion. "If you want them to respect you, you have to win them over. Shouting at them or letting your anger show won't change anything."

She raised an eyebrow. "You think main unke saath nice hoon? After how they treat me?"

Zaid's voice softened as he continued, "Mubashra, power doesn't come from who gets served first. If you're kind to them, unhein dikhao ke tum fair ho, they'll be loyal to you. They'll serve you out of respect, not out of fear. Chalo, issi bahaane bahar breakfast karte hain. Let's go," he took her hand and lead her out to the car.

They drove to a society exclusive cafe and had coffee and sandwiches for breakfast while they talked about how to continue with their plan.

Later that day, at the office, Mubashra sat in a conference room with Mohib, Zaid, and Asad. The meeting was tense from the moment it began. Mubashra had never been part of board meetings before, but Zaid invited her now that she was his wife, and more importantly, had more shares in the company now. And especially important to them was that Mohib resented her presence there.

Mohib, who had been listening to the proposed presentation with a stiff jaw and crossed arms, was the first to speak. "This plan is risky, and it doesn't align with our brand image. Humne hamesha stability pe focus kiya hai, not taking unnecessary risks."

Mubashra met his cold gaze and responded, "The market is changing, Mohib. If we don't adapt, hum peeche reh jaayein ge. Sometimes risks are necessary for growth."

Before Mohib could retaliate, Asad, who had been quietly observing the interaction, interjected. "Mubashra makes a valid point. We can't stick to outdated methods forever. The plan is bold, but it has potential. I like it."

Mubashra felt a surge of triumph as Asad continued to praise her initiative, his words drowning out any lingering resentment Mohib might have felt. Asad's approval was a rare gift, and in the corporate world of their family business, it was everything.

"Dad," Mohib finally said, his voice strained, "this is not the right time for experimentation."

But Asad waved his hand dismissively. "Mohib, agar tum har nae idea ko reject kar do ge toh business thrive kaise kare ga? Mubashra has shown she's thinking ahead. That's what we need right now."

Mohib's face tightened in frustration. He looked at Mubashra as though her mere presence in the room was a personal affront, and without another word, he stood up abruptly and left the meeting room.

As the door clicked shut behind him, Mubashra's victory felt bittersweet. She had won Asad's approval, but she could feel Mohib's growing anger, and that tension wouldn't disappear easily. Zaid, who had been silent through the discussion, finally spoke up, his voice low but filled with admiration. "You did well," he said, his eyes meeting Mubashra's.

For the first time that day, Mubashra allowed herself to truly relax. She had a long way to go in her quest for revenge, but today, she had taken a significant step forward.

As she left the conference room with Zaid by her side, her thoughts lingered on the complexities of the power struggle between them all. Mohib and Aira may have thought they had won, but Mubashra knew that true victory came not from the past, but from shaping the future—one move at a time.

Dinner was set at the sprawling dining table in the Shahwani home, with Aira seated next to Mohib, her hands wrapped around a glass of water. Asad sat at the head of the table, a picture of calm authority, while Mohib silently stirred his soup, his mind elsewhere.

Suddenly, the sound of the front door opening broke the silence, and Zaid and Mubashra entered the room, their expressions light and cheerful.

"Assalamo alaikum, baba." Zaid said.

"Wa alaikum assalaam. Ao, baitho," he gestured toward the table.

Without hesitation, they approached and took their seats, Zaid next to Asad and Mubashra settling in across from Aira, who barely glanced up. Aira's icy demeanor hadn't thawed one bit, and Mubashra could feel the cold disdain radiating from her rival, but she had learned to control her emotions better.

As the maid brought out one of the steaming dishes to the table, her hands shook, and before anyone could react, the dish slipped from her grasp, crashing onto the floor and sending food splattering across the polished tiles.

Aira immediately shot to her feet, her eyes narrowing as she turned on the maid. "Dekh ke nah chal sakti? Tum itni careless kaise ho sakti ho?!"

The maid looked terrified, her hands shaking as she tried to stammer out an apology, but before Aira could continue her scolding, Mubashra stood up and walked over to the maid. She gently placed a hand on the woman's shoulder and said, "It's okay, accidents happen. Tum yeh saaf kardo, main under se doosra le aati hoon."

The maid nodded gratefully, her eyes brimming with relief, and quickly started to clean up the mess. Mubashra looked at Zaid and he smiled and nodded. Mubashra then went into the kitchen, her posture calm and collected.

Asad, who had been watching quietly, raised an eyebrow, impressed by Mubashra's grace. He exchanged a glance with Zaid, who couldn't help but smile at his wife's handling of the situation.

Mubashra soon returned from the kitchen, carrying a fresh dish in her hands. She placed it gently on the table. Zaid couldn't help but feel a surge of pride as he watched Mubashra take control of the situation with such poise.

"Mubashra," Asad said, breaking the silence as she took her seat again. "Accha laga tumhein aisa dekh ke. Pehle waali Mubashra se different ho. Is change ki jo bhi wajah hai, accha hai."

Mubashra nodded graciously, feeling the weight of Asad's rare praise. Zaid reached over and gave her hand a gentle squeeze under the table.

"Nae zamaane ki bahu hai hamaari. Subah office sambhaala, aur abh ghar sambhaal rahi hai. Auro ki tarha nahi, jo mardon pe depend karein."

Across from them, Mohib's face was dark with frustration. His eyes darted between Mubashra and Aira, and the discomfort that had been building throughout the evening finally reached its peak. Without saying a word, Mohib pushed his chair back abruptly and left the table, his footsteps heavy as he made his way out of the room.

Aira, startled by his sudden departure, shot a quick glare at Mubashra before hurrying after him. "Mohib, wait!"

The air felt lighter in their absence, and Asad, Zaid, and Mubashra were left to eat their dinner in peace. The tension that had briefly touched the room evaporated, replaced by an atmosphere of quiet contentment.

As the three of them ate, Asad couldn't help but glance at Mubashra with renewed respect. Her change in attitude was undeniable, and it was clear that she had found a way to gain control over herself, and in turn, the situation around her. For the first time, Asad felt that perhaps Mubashra's presence in the family was not a disruption, but a necessary shift.

Upstairs in their bedroom, Zaid and Mubashra were getting out of their day clothes, the soft glow of the bedside lamps casting a warm light over the room. The quiet of the evening settled around them, and a sense of triumph lingered in the air. Mubashra kicked off her heels, leaning back against the headboard with a satisfied smile playing on her lips.

"Did you see his face?" Mubashra laughed, her eyes sparkling. "Kaise bacchon ki tarha sulk kar raha tha. I thought he was going to stomp his feet like a kid who didn't get his way."

Zaid chuckled, shaking his head. "He couldn't handle it. It's been a long time since anyone's challenged him like that. He especially was not expecting you."

Mubashra sighed as she recalled the evening. "Accha feel hua. Better than I expected. Watching him get up like that... Aur phir Aira uske piche bhaagi, like she could fix his wounded pride."

Zaid turned to her, admiring the way Mubashra was carrying herself. She was earning his father's respect, handling herself with grace, and winning over those who mattered. Slowly but surely, she was overshadowing Aira.

Mubashra tilted her head slightly, her curiosity piqued as she caught him lost in thought. She looked at Zaid for a moment before asking, "abh bhi pyaar karte ho usse?"

Zaid blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in the conversation. He hadn't expected Mubashra to bring up his past with Aira, especially not now. His eyes flicked down to his hands, and he hesitated for a moment before responding.

"Back then, she was different," he said, his voice thoughtful as he tried to put the feelings of the past into words. "She was... warm. I admired that, how she seemed to light up a room when she entered it. Baki sabh life bohot bhaagam bhaag tha, stressful thi. Usse pyaar karna easy tha."

Mubashra inadvertently sat closer, clearly interested. "And now?"

Zaid sighed, leaning back against the headboard and glancing toward the window. "Now, I don't see that anymore. Pata nahi abh badal gayi, ya bus pehle I didn't see her clearly. Bhai se shaadi ke baad, she seems more satisfied. Like she got everything she wanted."

Mubashra sat forward, a twisted look on her face. That should've been her, satisfied with Mohib, like she got everything she ever wanted.

Zaid noticed her shift in mood and realized what they had said. Reflexively, he leaned forward and put a hand on her knee- well, a little higher than her knee. He wasn't looking.

"Lekin hum unhein humein upset karne ka haq hi nahi deinge. We'll show them hum unse ziyada khush hai saath."

Mubashra wanted to believe him. That's why they had married. She smiled at him trying to remind her of that. She enjoyed their partnership. And then she felt his hand on her leg. She wanted to enjoy that too, but her fastening heart reminded her why she hated being touched.

Mubashra jerked her leg back, perhaps a little rougher than she had wanted to. "Main... change karti hoon." She grabbed her nightclothes and ran to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

Zaid picked up on her distress. They had planned that their marriage was just a partnership in revenge. They hadn't expected marital relations between them. Sure he was starting to like her, but he had no expectation that she like him back. He realized his mistake and quickly went after her.