THE FACE BENEATH

The screen flickered once before the image fully loaded.

It was a clear headshot—cropped tight around the face of a man probably in his early thirties. Black hair, a clean-cut jawline, familiar eyes that now stared back coldly from the screen. Underneath the image, the name appeared in bold:

Tarun Shekhawat.

Nithya's entire body went still. Her breath caught in her throat as if someone had physically punched the air out of her lungs. Her heart began to hammer, louder than it had moments before, and all she could do was stare.

Yuvraj took a step forward. "Do you... know him?"

But Nithya didn't answer.

Not right away.

Her lips parted slightly as if to say something, but the words wouldn't come. Her eyes remained glued to the screen, slowly clouding over with the weight of disbelief.

Dhruv and Megha exchanged a glance, sensing something deeper was unraveling in her silence.

"I... I know this face," Nithya whispered finally, her voice cracking.

She moved closer, eyes wide, hand trembling slightly as she raised it to point at the screen.

"But that's not his name."

"What?" Megha blinked.

"He's not Tarun Shekhawat," Nithya said slowly, voice growing steadier with each word, even though her heart was anything but. "He's not. At least... that's not what I knew him by."

She looked up at Dhruv, her face stricken. "He worked with me. He still works with me. He joined a few months back. Said he was just starting out—nervous, unsure of himself. I remember how hesitant he was when I first interviewed him. He seemed so genuine."

Yuvraj's jaw clenched. "What name did he use?"

Nithya let out a shaky breath, thinking back to the first day he walked into her office—files in hand, nervous smile on his face.

"Ansh," she said. "He told me his name was Ansh. Ansh Oberoi."

Silence.

The room fell into a stunned hush.

Dhruv quickly began typing, pulling up Ansh Oberoi's employee profile from Nithya's company system. The moment the image loaded, a fresh wave of cold dread spread through the room.

Same face. Same man. Different name.

"He falsified his identity," Dhruv muttered. "And he's been inside your company all this time."

Nithya stumbled back a step, hand going to her mouth. "He knew everything... my schedule... the building's security... my cabin layout. He knew it all because I gave him access."

Her knees buckled, and Megha rushed forward to support her. Yuvraj stepped around the table, steadying her from the other side.

"He fooled me," Nithya whispered, her voice broken now. "I trusted him. I gave him that job thinking he was someone who needed a chance. He called himself a beginner, a learner. I felt bad for him."

She laughed bitterly through her tears. "And all this time... he was watching me. Tracking me. Taking pictures. Sending those letters."

Yuvraj looked at Dhruv, anger burning in his eyes. "We need to trace him. Every place he's ever been. Every login. Every movement inside that office."

"I'm on it," Dhruv said without looking up, fingers flying over the keyboard again.

Megha sat beside Nithya, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "You didn't do anything wrong, okay? Don't blame yourself."

"But I let him in..." Nithya muttered. "I let him in."

"You trusted someone who wore a mask," Megha said softly. "That's not on you."

Nithya's eyes went back to the screen, locking on the image of the man she once trusted.

Ansh. Tarun. Whoever he really was.

The ground beneath her felt unsteady, like the world had shifted on its axis. She'd been trying to stay strong all this time—through the stalking, the threats, the blackmail. But now that she knew the face behind it... it felt personal. Intimate in a way that chilled her to the bone.

Because he had been there. In her space. In her orbit. Pretending. Watching. Plotting.

And she had never seen it coming.

The room was quiet except for the constant tapping of keys under Dhruv's fingers. He sat on the sofa, hunched over the laptop, his brows furrowed in concentration. Lines of code and search queries blinked on the screen as he tried to gain access to anything—bank records, social media traces, IP logins—anything that could lead them to Ansh, or rather, Tarun.

But it was like chasing shadows.

"Whoever this guy is... he's covered his tracks well," Dhruv muttered, frustrated. "No digital footprint. No social accounts. Not even a damn electricity bill."

Yuvraj stood with his arms crossed, pacing slowly across the living room. Megha leaned on the table, eyes darting between the screen and Nithya, who sat on the couch, visibly exhausted but holding herself together.

"What about the address he gave in the office documents?" Megha asked.

"I was just about to suggest that," Dhruv replied. "It's the only tangible thing we have."

Nithya looked up. "I've been there. Once. With the others from my team. It was his birthday, and he had invited us over for lunch. It looked like a regular apartment. Small, but clean. Nothing suspicious."

"Then let's go," Yuvraj said firmly, grabbing his jacket. "We don't have time to wait."

Megha helped Nithya to her feet. "Are you sure you want to come?"

Nithya nodded slowly. "He worked for me. He threatened me. I want to be there."

Dhruv shut the laptop with a sigh. "Fine. Let's move."

Just as they were about to step out the door, Nithya's phone buzzed on the table.

Everyone turned at once.

The screen glowed with an unknown number.

A heavy silence settled over the room.

Nithya's hands trembled slightly as she picked it up. "It's him," she whispered.

"You don't know that yet," Yuvraj said gently, but his voice was tense.

She pressed the answer button and slowly brought the phone to her ear. "Hello?"

There was silence for a moment. Then a voice crackled through the speaker. Smooth. Mocking. Almost too calm.

"Going somewhere, babygirl?"

Nithya's breath caught.

Everyone's eyes shot to her face as it went pale.

"You really shouldn't be leaving the house. It's dangerous out there... especially for someone like you. Pregnant. So fragile."

Nithya clutched the phone tighter. Her throat burned. "What do you want from me?"

A soft chuckle came from the other end. "Oh, babygirl... I don't want much. Just you. Is that too much to ask?"

Dhruv was already switching on the phone's speaker and activating a trace app on his laptop.

"You stay away from me," Nithya hissed, the fear in her voice laced with anger now. "You're sick. You need help."

"But you never helped me," the voice replied, tone turning darker. "You smiled at everyone, gave them chances... and I waited for mine. But you never saw me. Not really."

Yuvraj moved closer, his hand on Nithya's shoulder. "Keep him talking," he mouthed.

"I saw you as a colleague," Nithya forced herself to say. "Nothing more. That doesn't give you the right to stalk me."

The voice fell silent for a beat. Then: "I warned you. And now you're bringing your little friends into this? Not a smart move, Babydoll."

Click.

The call ended.

The moment it did, Dhruv slammed a hand on the table. "Damn it! He's using a bouncing signal. Can't trace the location. But—" He paused, scrolling quickly. "I got a partial signal ID. If he calls again, we might be able to triangulate."

Nithya sat down heavily on the chair. Her hands were ice-cold.

"He's watching us," she murmured. "He knows everything."

Yuvraj's face was dark with fury. "Then let's make sure he knows we're coming for him."

The room was eerily quiet, save for the soft hum of Dhruv's laptop. His fingers moved rapidly across the keyboard as he tried bypassing every layer of firewall and security he could. The name Tarun Shekhawat glared back at him, mocking them with its silence. There were no solid records, no valid ID numbers, no family data—nothing except a temporary address listed under the office employment form.

"Bloody ghost," Dhruv muttered under his breath, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"He's smart," Yuvraj said, pacing the living room. "He covered all his tracks."

"But not well enough," Megha added, arms crossed, her eyes shifting to Nithya who sat on the edge of the couch. Her face was pale, drained. Her fingers clutched her phone tightly, as if she could will it to ring again.

"He'll call," Nithya whispered. "He always does when he knows I'm spiraling."

They had already informed the local cyber cell, given a heads-up to a few trusted officers in plain clothes, and stationed a tracker program on her phone. If he called again—they'd trace it.

Just then, as if on cue, her phone buzzed. An unknown number. No name. No location.

Everyone froze.

Her heart jumped to her throat. She answered on speaker, voice trembling. "Hello?"

There was a deep exhale on the other end. "Missed me, baby girl?"

Yuvraj clenched his fists.

Nithya swallowed the lump in her throat. "Why are you doing this?"

"You shouldn't have tried to expose me," he said casually. "I told you, your silence was the key to Vineet's safety. You just couldn't listen, could you?"

Behind her, Dhruv was already tracing the call. His eyes locked on the screen, following every signal bounce and triangulated point. The software was narrowing it down.

"You'll pay for this," the voice continued. "And this time, even your friends won't be able to save you."

Nithya didn't respond. She just let him speak while the software did its job.

Dhruv's voice cut through the tension. "Got him."

They didn't need to say anything more. Everyone moved in sync.

.
.
.

The sun had set by the time they reached the run-down building where Ansh—no, Tarun Shekhawat—was hiding.

Nithya had visited this place once, when he'd invited the office team for a get-together. Nothing had seemed off then. He had acted shy, barely spoke, always respectful.

But now, standing in front of the same door, her skin crawled.

Yuvraj and Dhruv flanked her, Megha slightly behind, carrying a small taser they had brought just in case. They didn't want violence—but they were prepared for it.

Dhruv gave a sharp knock.

No answer.

Another knock, louder this time.

They heard a scuffle inside, a chair toppling over.

Yuvraj didn't wait. He kicked the door open.

The inside of the apartment was dimly lit. Walls were covered with photographs—of Nithya. Smiling, talking, walking, working. Cutouts from newspaper clippings, candid shots from her Instagram. There were candles in one corner, melted and burned out, placed under a giant printed photograph of her at a fashion event.

It was a shrine. A shrine to obsession.

In the center of the room, Ansh—no, Tarun—stood, frozen.

He wasn't surprised. He almost looked... relieved.

"You came," he said quietly, eyes only on Nithya.

Yuvraj stepped forward but Nithya held his arm, stepping ahead herself.

"Why?" Her voice cracked. "I gave you a job. I trusted you."

He blinked slowly.
"Because you're perfect. You're kind. You saw me when no one did. That day on Instagram... your smile... I knew you were meant for me."

"You didn't even know me," she spat. "You made my life hell. You threatened Vineet. You blackmailed me with that video."

His expression twisted, childlike guilt flickering across his face.
"I didn't want to hurt you. I just wanted you to come to me willingly. But you kept going back to him."

"You're delusional," Dhruv growled, stepping in. "This ends now."

Tarun suddenly tried to make a run for it—but Yuvraj was faster. He slammed him against the wall, pinning his arms back. Megha rushed in, holding up the taser just in case.

"Let me go!" he shouted, thrashing, his obsession giving way to rage.
"You don't deserve her! None of you do!"

Nithya stood still, her eyes full of tears—but no longer afraid.

"You will never control me again."
.
.
.

Veena stared at her phone, Dhruv's message staring back at her like a silent bomb waiting to go off. "Ansh Oberoi... Tarun Shekhawat," the text read. The truth was finally out, but it wasn't making anything easier.

She looked up at Vineet, who was sitting lifelessly on the couch, eyes red from frustration and confusion. He hadn't eaten, hadn't said much—just kept asking the same thing in different ways. Why? Why did Nithya leave him, what had he done wrong, what was it she couldn't tell him?

Veena couldn't take it anymore. She placed the phone on the coffee table and sat beside him.

"Vineet..." she started softly.

He didn't look at her. "Don't tell me to be patient, Veena. I'm losing my damn mind here."

She reached for his hand. "No, I won't tell you to be patient... but I will tell you the truth."

That got his attention. His eyes snapped to hers. "What do you mean?"

She hesitated. "There's... a video."

He blinked. "What kind of video?"

She inhaled sharply. "A private video. Of Nithya... changing. During fashion week. Someone installed a hidden camera."

Vineet shot up like a loaded spring. "What?! Who the f—"

"It was him. Tarun. Or Ansh Oberoi. That guy. The one who joined her company with a fake identity. He's been stalking her. Blackmailing her. That's why she asked for the divorce."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Vineet's voice cracked, rage filling every word. "I knew it! I fucking knew something was wrong with that bastard the moment he walked in. Always too quiet, always watching. I told Nithya he was fishy!"

Veena nodded, trying to stay calm. "She didn't want to involve you because he threatened to hurt you. That's why she kept quiet."

Vineet ran a hand through his hair and growled. "I'm going to kill him. I swear to God, I'm going to rip that motherfucker apart with my bare hands."

He stormed toward the door.

"Vineet! Wait! Dhruv said they're on their way to him—"

"I am going, Veena! That bastard played games with my wife, my family—me! He watched her, he hurt her. And I'm done fucking sitting around while everyone protects me like I'm made of glass!"

Veena grabbed his arm. "Then let's go together."

He glanced at her—face flushed with fury, breathing hard—and nodded. "You're not stopping me this time."

"Good," she said. "I won't. But we're doing this smart. You need to see her too, when this is over."

He didn't answer, but his jaw clenched hard enough to crack.

As they stepped outside, Vineet muttered under his breath, "He's going to wish he never laid eyes on her."

And with that, they drove toward the address, his rage burning bright, ready to face the monster that had nearly broken everything.

.
.
.

The tension in the room was suffocating as Vineet stormed through the door, his eyes instantly locking onto the man who had turned their lives upside down. Ansh Oberoi—sitting casually on a chair, bruised and beaten from his earlier capture by Dhruv and Yuvraj—still had that smug, twisted smile playing on his bloodied lips. Like he was proud of what he'd done.

But the moment Vineet entered, the smirk vanished.

Before anyone could react, Vineet lunged forward.

"You son of a bitch!" he roared, his fist slamming straight into Ansh's face with a sickening crunch. The chair tipped back, crashing to the floor, and Vineet didn't stop. He climbed on top of him, raining blow after blow on the man beneath him.

"How dare you fucking look at my wife!" he shouted, his voice thick with rage and pain. "How fucking dare you!"

Blood splattered across Vineet's knuckles as the punches grew more vicious—each one harder than the last, fueled by every sleepless night, every unanswered question, every drop of guilt he had swallowed thinking it was him who drove Nithya away.

"You sick bastard!" Vineet hissed, grabbing Ansh by the collar and slamming his head into the floor. "You installed a camera. You watched her. You violated her!"

"Vineet, stop!" Megha screamed, rushing toward him.

Veena was right behind her. "Please—Vineet, you'll kill him!"

But before they could get too close, Yuvraj and Dhruv stepped in. Yuvraj pulled Megha back, his arms wrapping tightly around her, while Dhruv restrained Veena gently but firmly.

"Let him get it out," Dhruv muttered grimly. "Just for a minute."

Ansh groaned beneath Vineet, barely able to move, his face a mask of blood and bruises. But Vineet wasn't finished.

"She's my wife, you bastard!" Vineet shouted, slamming his fist into Ansh's jaw again. "My fucking wife!"

Nithya stood a few feet away, frozen. Tears streamed down her face, her hand trembling as it hovered near her mouth. Seeing Vineet like this—unhinged, furious, destroyed—shattered her completely. He had always been calm, composed, the one who held her when she broke. But now... now he was breaking, piece by piece, right in front of her.

"Stop it, please..." she whispered, her voice cracking.

Vineet didn't hear. Or maybe he did, but the fury had blinded him.

Yuvraj's grip tightened on Megha, sensing her trying to pull away. "Not yet," he said quietly. "Let him finish what that bastard deserves."

With one last brutal punch, Vineet collapsed onto the floor beside Ansh, panting heavily, fists trembling, knuckles soaked in blood.

Silence fell.

Ansh whimpered, coughing weakly. His body curled slightly, broken in more ways than one.

Yuvraj stepped closer to Megha, his voice a low whisper in her ear, calm but commanding.

"Take Nithya and Veena outside. Now."

Megha's brows furrowed. "Yuvraj...?"

His eyes didn't shift, still fixed on the broken, bloody figure that was Ansh—crumpled on the floor, groaning under the weight of his own madness and the punches Vineet had rained down.

Megha caught the sharp glint in Yuvraj's eyes. Whatever was about to happen... wasn't meant for them to see.

She swallowed hard, but didn't ask further. Nithya was trembling in her arms, and Veena stood by silently, her hands shaking.

"Come," Megha said softly, guiding the two women toward the door.

Veena paused for a second, turning back to glance at Vineet—he didn't meet her gaze. His jaw was tight, blood still coating his fists, and something darker simmered beneath his silence.

Megha gently tugged her forward. "Please, let's go."

Once the door clicked shut behind them, a different silence settled in the room.

Heavy. Tense. Final.

Dhruv stood up from where Ansh lay and dusted off his hands, his expression cold, detached. Yuvraj paced the floor slowly, his fingers moving to his phone. Vineet stood still in the center, his chest rising and falling slowly, as if he was holding onto whatever self-control he had left.

"Let's end this," Yuvraj muttered, dialing a number.

The call connected almost instantly.

"Need you to take care of something," he said, his voice clipped, emotionless. "Tonight. No loose ends."

On the other end, a man responded with a quiet, professional "Understood."

Dhruv crouched beside Ansh, whose breath was rattling from the pain. "You picked the wrong woman to fuck with," he said, his voice a dangerous murmur.

Ansh didn't respond—his face was too swollen to speak. But his eyes flicked open, panic swimming in the whites.

"You stalked her. Threatened her. Blackmailed her. You tried to destroy her," Dhruv continued. "You thought you'd get away with it?"

Vineet finally spoke, voice low and dangerous. "If I ever see your face again, even in a photo... you won't have a face left."

Yuvraj ended the call and looked at both of them. "We clean this up. Permanently. No name. No past. He disappears tonight."

They dragged Ansh up, ignoring his groans, and took him out the back exit of the building. A black SUV stood waiting by the alley, engine humming quietly.

The man who stepped out from the car didn't ask questions. He didn't need to. Yuvraj gave a nod, and the man opened the rear door.

Dhruv handed him a sealed envelope—papers, identification, cash. All part of the plan. A setup they'd built for situations like this—ones where justice couldn't be found in a courtroom.

Vineet stood silently, watching as Ansh was shoved into the back seat.

"Clear everything," Yuvraj said. "His files, devices, records. His trail ends here."

The man nodded once. "Done."

As the SUV drove off into the darkness, disappearing into the night, the three men stood still.

No words.

Just the heavy silence of finality.

Vineet let out a slow breath. His fists clenched and unclenched.

"It's over," Dhruv said, walking back toward the apartment door.

But Vineet didn't move.

He stood there, beneath the flickering light of the alley, blood on his hands, heart still thudding against his ribs.

No... it wasn't over.

Not yet.

He had to see her.

He had to hold her again—not out of rage or revenge—but love.

Because for everything she had faced, for all the pain she'd buried to protect him...

She was still his.

And he was going to make damn sure she never had to face anything like this again.

I'M PREGNANT