Suman turned, her eyes blazing. “You’re right. See you in court. But remember—I managed your business accounts for three years. I know about the shell companies, the bribes, the fake bills. If you want a fight, bring it. Ek vivah aisa bhi hota hai jahan biwi nahi, sher paida hota hai.” (There is a marriage where not a wife, but a lioness is born.)

(A marriage such as this… where first, you truly marry yourself.)

Suman walked to the mirror she had set up. She took the garland of jasmine and placed it around her own neck.

The priest tried to intervene, saying a wife’s duty is to adjust. Suman laughed—a broken, beautiful laugh.

That was the final straw.

Rajiv lunged forward. “You can’t take her! She’s my daughter too—legally!”

Three years ago, this same room had echoed with wedding cheers. Suman had married into the prestigious Saxena family, a widow with a young daughter, Asha. The condition of the marriage was simple: sacrifice. Sacrifice her own desires, her career, her identity. For her daughter’s future, she had agreed.