It Was Never Love
The room smelled of freshly brewed coffee and something older ambition, perhaps.
Komal sat at the center of the bed, laptop open to Nishant’s wedding invitation. Her eyes didn’t soften as she looked at his smiling face. Instead, they narrowed.
“He was never mine,” she said flatly. “Not really.”
Kamolika sipped her tea, unbothered. “No. But he should be.”
Komal nodded slowly. “He has everything. The haveli. The family business. The name. The house staff that call him baba. He walks like he owns the air.”
“And you want that air,” Kamolika said calmly.
“I deserve it,” Komal whispered. “Not that... soft little doll he’s marrying.”
Kamolika smirked. “That ‘doll’ is the key to his heart. Remove the doll. The lock breaks.”
Komal tilted her head. “You mean Tanuj?”
Kamolika leaned forward, voice sharp and measured. “Sabotage the image. Make him look weak. Clingy. Emotional. Say things that will make people uncomfortable. Plant whispers — ‘he still acts like a child,’ ‘is he mentally unstable?’”
Komal’s eyes gleamed. “And Nishant will feel ashamed of him.”
“Exactly,” Kamolika said. “Shame breaks faster than hate.”
Komal closed the laptop and stood. “What about the parents?”
“They’ll defend Nishant. That’s expected. But they’re protective of appearances. You cry in front of Anjali. Say you’re worried for Nishant’s future. Pretend you heard ‘things’ about Tanuj. Let guilt do the work.”
Komal walked to the mirror, putting on a gold earring. “And what if that doesn’t work?”
Kamolika smirked. “Then we start on Nishant. Remind him what he’ll lose — reputation, business, image. Tell him Tanuj will ruin his social circle. That he needs someone who understands wealth. Like you.”
Komal stared at herself.
A girl once told she was pretty.
Now, a woman told she was powerful.
“Did he ever love me?” she asked absently.
Kamolika didn’t even blink. “No. But that’s not the point.”
Komal smiled sharp, cold.
“Then I’ll make him mine. Not because I want him... but because I want what’s his.”
They didn’t hug. They didn’t cry. They simply understood each other.
Two women.
One plan.
And no guilt.
G
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Mafia's Heartbeat
FanfictionNishant Khurana [age 29 ] was the mafia king of whole india everyone feared to even take his name . Tanuj Das [age 19 ] belongs to a poor fam8ly abused and heartbroken. what happens when they will cross path ?, will Tanuj be able to love Nishant or...
