Next week: Anika accidentally breaks Shivaay’s mother’s antique vase. War is declared.

“Mr. Oberoi. I’m Anika. Your brother paid me fifty thousand rupees to pretend I’m your fiancée for one week. You look like you hate the idea. Good. Because I hate you already. Where’s my room?”

“You brought chaos into my house.”

“Om! Put the book down! We’re about to rescue our brother from his own funeral of a life!”

He sets the photo down.

stands by the window, a glass of scotch in his hand. He doesn’t drink. He just holds it. His phone buzzes. A text from Rudra : “Bhai, we’re coming home. And we’re not alone.”

“We’re about to walk into a lion’s den wearing meat suits. Shivaay doesn’t need rescue. He needs an exorcism.”

“Family. It’s a word people throw around like confetti. But in this house, family is a contract. And I am the signatory.”