A woman sat in her chamber, anger and embarrassment boiling inside her like molten lava. ​Aradhya: "KYU? AKHIR KYU KIYA AAPNE YE?!" ​She shouted at the top of her lungs, tears threatening to spill over. Suddenly, a man entered her chamber without permission. His chest was bare, and the sweat on his forehead told a grim story—someone had died today. Aradhya spun around and glared at him. ​Aradhya: "Kyu aaye hai aap yaha? Nikal jaiye humare kaksh se! Himmat kaise hui humare paas aane ki? You are all the same... you are just a manwhore like the rest of them!" ​Dev’s eyes blazed with fury. He did not tolerate being accused of something he wasn't. ​Dev: "Watch your language... before I bend you over that bed and show you exactly what a 'manwhore' like me can do." ​In a flash of rage, Aradhya grabbed a knife from the nightstand—the one still stuck in an apple—and hurled it at him. The blade whistled past his arm, slicing through his skin. As blood began to drip onto the floor, Dev let out a low growl. ​Hearing the sound, the guards rushed into the room, moving toward Aradhya to restrain her. ​Dev: "Ruk jao! Biwi hai wo humari. She can do anything she wants. Out! All of you." ​He spoke with a dangerous smirk playing on his lips.