The grand, sprawling house was silent, wrapped in the deep velvet of midnight. The only sounds were the distant hum of the air conditioner and the faint rustle of night insects outside. The architectural layout of the home was a testament to wealth and privacy. The left wing belonged entirely to Ahmed—his master suite, a private office, and Saad’s bedroom. The right wing housed Yusuf, Mariam, and Afiya, with several guest rooms and a small library creating a buffer of space and sound between the family bedrooms. This buffer was Ahmed’s silent accomplice, ensuring that any sound from Afiya’s room—a gasp, a whimper, a cry—would be swallowed by the walls before it reached her parents.

Ahmed moved through the darkened halls like a shadow, his bare feet silent on the cool marble. He had left his wing, his body thrumming with a restless, possessive energy that had built all evening. The memory of Naina’s brazen touch was a stain on his skin, one only his Gudiya could cleanse.