The heavy mahogany doors of the master bedroom didn't just open; they felt like they were being breached. Sameer stood there, the gold handle still in his grip, his face a canvas of confusion that was rapidly melting into horror. The scent of the room had changed. It no longer smelled of the lavender air freshener Meera liked; it smelled of musk, expensive tobacco, and the unmistakable, heavy scent of a woman who had been thoroughly used.

Rahul didn't flinch. He didn't even pull his hand out from under Meera’s crimson silk saree. Instead, he looked over his shoulder, a jagged, wolfish smirk cutting across his face.