It had been two weeks since Divyanka had left for Italy with Aaron to visit her hometown in India.
Meanwhile, Kavira had finally shifted into Karl's mansion, leaving her apartment behind.
She was still getting used to the enormous house—the silence, the endless rooms, the guards, the staff, and, most importantly, the fact that Karl Casanova was now impossible to escape.
That afternoon, Kavira was sitting on her bed when a knock sounded on the door.
She didn't even look up.
Kavira: "What's the problem with you?! A few minutes ago, you ruined my favourite dress with that fucking watch of yours! Why did you grab me by my waist when you knew the fabric could get caught in your watch and tear? Are you stupid or dumb—or both?!"
Karl stood by the doorway, silently watching her.
She was furious.
And somehow, even while arguing with him, she looked beautiful.
Karl cleared his throat.
Karl: "Ahem... Mrs. Kavira Casanova, take a breath while speaking, or you'll run out of breath and I'll have to give you CPR."
He stepped closer.
Kavira immediately looked away, partly annoyed and partly embarrassed by how close he suddenly was.
Kavira: "Shut all this drama up."
Karl: "Okay, fine, my—"
Kavira: "I don't have time for losers."
She stood up and walked past him.
Karl watched her for a second before reaching out and catching her wrist.
He pulled her back, and she stumbled against his chest.
Her hands instinctively landed against him.
Karl's hand rested lightly at her waist.
Karl: "Don't worry. This time, I won't tear your dress, darling. Just calm down."
Kavira's eyes widened.
Kavira: "Just shut up! First of all, it was your fault, and then you have the audacity to—"
Karl interrupted her with a quick kiss.
When he pulled back, Kavira stared at him in disbelief.
Karl: "From now on, whenever you cut me off, I'm going to interrupt you before you finish your sentence."
Kavira glared at him.
Kavira: "You are unbelievable."
Karl: "And you're going shopping."
Kavira: "What?"
Karl: "Get ready, Mrs. Casanova."
With that, he walked out.
Kavira stood there, staring at the closed door.
Kavira: "I hate that man."
A pause.
Kavira: "...I really do."
She grabbed her pillow and threw it at the door.
---
Thirty Minutes Later
The black BMW moved smoothly through the streets.
Kavira sat beside Karl, arms crossed, still irritated.
The car was almost thirty minutes away from their destination when something strange happened.
Karl crossed a red light.
Kavira looked at the signal.
Kavira: "It was at 102 seconds."
Karl didn't respond.
A few minutes later, another red light.
He crossed that one too.
Kavira stared at him.
Then another.
Only ten seconds.
Again, Karl didn't stop.
Her irritation finally exploded.
Kavira: "If you have an absurd amount of wealth sitting in your bank account, that doesn't mean you're allowed to break every fucking rule!"
Karl remained silent.
Kavira turned toward him.
Kavira: "Are you even listening to me?! Or are you deaf now?!"
Nothing.
Kavira: "Mr. Karl Casanova, are you going to listen to your wife or not?!"
Silence.
Karl's hands tightened slightly around the steering wheel.
Your wife.
Those words echoed inside his head.
For the first time, she had said his full name.
And then she'd called herself his wife.
He couldn't help the tiny smile that appeared on his face.
---
Karl's POV
She had no idea why I was driving like this.
She thought I was showing off.
She thought money had made me careless.
She was wrong.
I wasn't trying to impress anyone.
I was trying to protect her.
After everything she'd been through, I wanted to erase every memory that made her afraid.
Even if I couldn't change the past, I wanted her present to feel safer.
And perhaps that was the one thing I didn't know how to explain to her.
---
Flashback — Two Weeks Earlier
Kavira had arrived at the mansion exhausted after moving her belongings.
She dropped onto the couch.
Kavira: "Why are you looking at me like that?"
Karl blinked.
Karl: "Like what, darling?"
Kavira: "Oh, please. Put my stuff away. I'm tired after doing all this shifting."
Karl stared at her.
She's tired?
From what?
Sleeping during half the journey?
Eating her favourite white-sauce pasta while I packed everything?
Listening to her favourite Hindi songs while I carried those boxes?
He shook his head.
Kavira suddenly noticed his expression.
Kavira: "Oh my God. You're lost in your own thoughts now? Wow."
She rolled her eyes.
Kavira: "Sorry, Your Highness."
Karl sighed.
Karl: "Very funny."
He picked up one of the boxes.
Kavira: "I'm going to take a bath."
She disappeared into the bathroom.
Karl carried the boxes into the bedroom.
Then he noticed one small box.
It was covered in faded stickers.
A handwritten label read:
"Childhood."
Karl hesitated.
He knew it wasn't his place to open it.
But curiosity—and something deeper—won.
He opened the box.
Inside were old photographs, little paper stars, painted bottles, childhood keepsakes and several diaries.
He picked up one of them.
He stared at the cover for a long moment.
I shouldn't read this.
He knew that.
But another thought followed.
I want to know.
Not because he wanted to invade her privacy.
Because there were parts of her life she had never spoken about.
Moments when she had been hurt.
Moments when she had cried.
Moments when she had needed someone—and he hadn't been there.
He slowly opened the diary.
The first few pages were innocent.
Childhood memories.
Little dreams.
School stories.
Then the tone changed.
The entries became heavier.
Karl's expression slowly disappeared.
Page after page, he discovered things Kavira had never told him.
Things she had buried behind sarcasm, anger and a smile.
He sat down on the edge of the bed.
His eyes remained fixed on the pages.
For the first time, Karl Casanova felt completely powerless.
He could buy buildings.
He could command people.
He could control businesses.
He could make entire rooms fall silent with one look.
But none of that could change what had already happened to her.
He closed the diary.
His jaw tightened.
Karl: "Why didn't you tell me?"
There was no answer.
Only silence.
He carefully placed the diary back inside the box.
From that day onward, something inside Karl changed.
He stopped seeing Kavira merely as the woman who constantly challenged him.
He began seeing the little girl behind the woman.
The girl who had survived things she should never have had to face.
And suddenly, Karl understood something.
He didn't want to control her life.
He wanted to make sure she never had to feel alone in it again.
---
Present
Kavira looked at him again.
Kavira: "Why are you smiling?"
Karl immediately straightened his expression.
Karl: "I'm not."
Kavira: "You absolutely were."
Karl: "You called yourself my wife."
Kavira froze.
Her cheeks warmed.
Kavira: "I was angry!"
Karl: "Still counts."
Kavira: "Forget it."
She turned toward the window.
Karl smiled quietly.
For once, neither of them said anything.
The city passed outside the window.
And somewhere between their arguments, misunderstandings and unfinished conversations, something neither of them was ready to name was slowly changing.
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