“I thought it was someone from the hotel,” he said. “But those photos were too clear and taken at the right moment. Someone was waiting to take them.”
Yamini said nothing.
“You divorced me immediately after that,” he continued. “And right after the divorce, everything started falling apart. My funding. My contracts. My partners.”
“That divorce happened because I saw what you did,” she said.
“Your family made sure it moved faster than I could respond,” he said. “They made sure I couldn't contest it.”
“My family had nothing to do with the divorce,” she said.
But even as she said it, she recalled how quickly everything had moved with the lawyer and the paperwork.
She remembered signing papers while still reeling from the photographs. Everything had already been prepared. At the time, she had been grateful.
“You were supposed to marry the Jogra maharaja five years ago,” he pressed. “You ran away with me instead. Then, after the divorce, everything lined up again. I read the announcement. Your name as the new Jogra maharani. You think that's a coincidence?”
She didn't answer.
“It didn't stop with me,” he said. “The woman I cheated with lost her job within a month. No one will hire her. She's completely blacklisted.”
“That's also not my concern,” Yamini said.
“I'm nearly destitute.” His voice cracked. “I can't get funding. I can't rent a decent place. Doors close before I even knock. Someone is making sure I have nothing left.”
“You're blaming my family for your own failures.”
“I'm stating facts,” he said. “They have political reach. Social influence. Financial connections. It's not difficult for people like them to ruin someone if they decide to.”
Yamini didn't respond immediately.
Her family had pride and social standing. But international financial sabotage? Coordinated blacklisting across countries?
That seemed far beyond them.
“You were humiliated,” Rahul continued. “They wouldn't let that go.”
“You were humiliated because you cheated and stole from me,” she said.
“I know,” he said. “I know I was wrong. But this is driving me to the edge.”
Silence.
“Tell them to stop,” he said. “If this is about revenge, I've paid enough. I've lost everything.”
“My family does not orchestrate vendettas,” she said. “And even if they did, you brought it on yourself.”
“Yamini—”
“Don't call me again.”
She ended the call.
The studio was very quiet.
Across the room, Pooja was still reviewing prints, her back turned, unaware.
Yamini stood still.
