The moment Preety saw the photo, her breath caught in her chest.
It didn't take her more than a few seconds to realize what was happening. Her brother… Monty… was in trouble.
Trouble because of her.
She stared at the screen, her heart thudding heavily. The picture—the one where Romi was pretending to kiss Monty's forehead—was innocent in appearance, but Preety knew exactly what kind of chaos it could stir. And now it was everywhere. Family, friends, old neighbors… everyone would see it. And they wouldn't understand.
Monty was being dragged into a firestorm meant for her.
"I have to go," she whispered.
Tina, who had been lying beside her, stiffened. "What?"
Preety sat up, her fingers trembling as she locked her phone. "I need to go back. I need to help my brother. He's stuck in something that's not his fault."
Tina sat up slowly, her face tightening. "You're going back? To them?"
Preety looked over, trying to explain with her eyes. "Tina, you saw the photo. My brother—he's getting all the backlash because of me. I need to fix this."
Tina's expression changed. Hurt. Rage. Abandonment. All flickered in a heartbeat. "Oh, so now they matter again? Your perfect family suddenly deserves your loyalty?"
Preety froze.
Tina stood up, her voice rising. "Did they care about you, Preety? Did they love you when you told them who you were? When you told them you liked girls—did they hug you, support you?"
"Tina—" Preety tried to interject, but Tina wasn't finished.
"No! Your father slapped you across the face. He locked you in your room like you were some kind of criminal. I remember you crying on the floor, banging the door, begging him to just let you explain."
Tears welled up in Preety's eyes.
Tina's voice cracked now. "And now you want to run back to those people? Because of one picture?"
Preety took a step closer, her tone softer, gentler. "I know… I know my parents reacted horribly. They hated what I told them. But Tina… my brother never did. Monty… he was the only one who stood by me. He held my hand when I cried. He never judged me, not for a second."
Tina's lip trembled. "And what about me, Preety? We fought through everything together. We built this life. We escaped. Now you want to throw that away and go running back?"
"I'm not throwing anything away," Preety said desperately. "I love you, Tina. But I can't sit here while Monty suffers because of me. I owe him this. Just this one thing."
Suddenly, Tina turned cold.
She walked toward the kitchen counter, opened a drawer, and pulled something out.
Preety's heart dropped.
It was a small kitchen knife.
Tina's hands were shaking as she held it out, placing it against her wrist. "If you walk out that door, I swear I'll do it. I'll end everything."
"Tina! Stop it!" Preety rushed forward in panic.
"You want to leave me, Preety? Fine. But if you go, you won't find me when you come back."
Tears streamed down both their faces now.
Preety reached out and slowly took the knife from Tina's hand, placing it down on the counter. Her heart broke into a thousand pieces. "I'm not leaving you forever. But I can't let Monty drown for something he never asked for. Please understand."
But Tina just turned away, silent, curling into herself like a wounded animal.
Preety had no choice.
She stayed.
Meanwhile, across snowy Switzerland...
Monty was asleep, a light snore slipping past his lips as the warm sunlight kissed his cheeks. The night had been long, restless. His dreams were tangled with images of Naina, with confusion, with longing… and with guilt.
But then—Bzzzt. Bzzzt.
The shrill vibration of his phone on the bedside table dragged him out of slumber.
Half-asleep, he reached for it.
Dad calling.
He blinked, sat upright, and glanced around. Romi wasn't in the room. Only his half-drunk coffee cup remained near the window.
Monty hesitated a second before accepting the call.
"Hello?"
The voice on the other end was sharp, urgent. "Monty! What the hell is going on between you and that man?!"
Monty froze. "Papa… what do you mean?"
"Don't play games with me!" Preem snapped. "Check your phone. Your face is everywhere—on social media. That boy Romi… what did you two do?!"
Monty's heart dropped. He unlocked his phone, opened Instagram, and instantly saw it.
The photo.
Romi's head near his forehead. That caption.
Monty nearly dropped the phone.
He didn't know whether to laugh or cry. That wasn't what happened! He had been asleep!
"I… I didn't even know he posted this," Monty mumbled into the phone. "Papa, please calm down. I think Romi took it while I was sleeping. He… he probably meant it as a joke."
"This is no joke, Monty," Preem snapped.
Monty swallowed hard. "I promise… I won't let Romi find out the truth. He still doesn't know who I really am. Please, Papa. Trust me."
Preem didn't reply. The line went dead.
Monty put the phone down, anxiety pulsing through his veins.
Just then, the door opened.
Romi walked in, towel slung around his neck, hair wet from the shower, droplets of water still clinging to his toned chest.
His broad shoulders, sculpted abs, and damp curls made him look like a cover model for a romance novel. His lips—those soft, full lips—were slightly red from the steam.
Monty stared, lost in thought.
He had meant to ask about the photo.
But how could he now?
Romi caught his eye and smirked. "Get ready. We're going out today."
"O-out?" Monty stuttered.
"Yeah," Romi said casually, walking to the closet. "Thought you could use some air. Maybe we'll take some more cute photos for my story," he added with a wink.
Monty flushed and turned away, grabbing his feminine clothes and escaping into the bathroom before his cheeks gave him away.
While Monty changed, Romi flopped on the bed and checked his Instagram story views. He scrolled past random names—friends, old flings, strangers. And then he stopped.
Suresh.
His eyes narrowed.
He tapped on the name and opened Suresh's profile.
There he was—the same man who had once ghosted him, who had made him feel small, replaceable.
The same man now watching from the shadows.
Romi smirked, his ego glowing.
So he did see it.
It was almost satisfying. As if the post had served its secret purpose. Maybe a part of him had wanted Suresh to see it. To feel that little pinch of jealousy.
He looked back at the photo again and grinned.
"My wife looks so innocent when she sleeps…"
All he knew was that for once… he was in control of the story.
And it felt damn good.