The paramedics rushed the unconscious woman out of the locked room, their footsteps echoing sharply through the corridor. The penthouse, normally quiet like a sealed tomb, now pulsed with frantic voices, beeping medical machines, and hurried commands.
But Aisha felt none of it.
She stood frozen, staring at the photograph taped to the wall—old, faded, and impossible.
Aarav and Aisha.
Standing together.
Smiling.
Like a couple that had existed long before she met him.
Her hand trembled as she reached out toward the picture. Her fingertips brushed the edge, and a strange dizziness washed over her.
"I… don't remember this," she whispered.
"Neither do I," Aarav said quietly behind her.
Aisha turned.
Aarav looked shaken, pale, like someone had pulled the ground out from under him. His gaze stayed fixed on the photo, as if afraid that looking away might make it disappear.
"This is impossible," she said. "I only met you the day we signed the contract."
Aarav stepped closer, his jaw tight.
"Yet here we are," he muttered, "standing in a photo that shouldn't exist."
Aisha felt a cold shiver crawl up her spine.
Someone had been watching her… even before the marriage.
Someone had taken photos.
Someone had placed this inside a locked room in his penthouse.
But who?
And why?
---
The Woman's Words
Aisha remembered the woman's last warning:
"Don't trust anyone here."
"You're the only one who can save him."
Aisha swallowed, trying to steady her breath.
"Aarav," she whispered, "we need to find out who she is."
He nodded slowly, eyes still glued to the photo.
"She knew me," he said, voice low and rough. "She said she waited for me. And she knew you—"
He paused, as if saying it out loud made it more real.
"Aisha… what if we knew each other before?" he asked quietly.
Her heart jumped.
"But that's impossible," she said. "I would've remembered. I would've—"
She stopped.
Because a thought—terrifying and impossible—slid into her mind.
"Unless someone erased your memories," she whispered.
Aarav looked at her sharply.
"And yours."
The room seemed to shrink around them.
Aisha took a step back. "No. No, that can't be true. Why would anyone erase my memories? I wasn't even part of your world until the contract—"
"Unless," Aarav said, taking a slow step toward her, "you always were."
Her breath caught.
He didn't blink. "What if… you're not just my contract wife?"
Silence thickened like smoke.
"What if you were my real wife," he whispered.
Aisha's heart slammed against her ribs. "Aarav… that's not—"
"We need answers." His voice hardened. "Now."
---
The Interrogation
The paramedics had taken the woman into the private emergency room on the lower floor. Doctors hovered over her, attaching IVs and running checks.
Aarav and Aisha stood outside the glass wall, waiting.
She lay unconscious, her expression fragile, her breathing shallow.
But she was alive.
A doctor stepped outside.
"How is she?" Aarav asked immediately.
"We stabilized her," the doctor said. "Severe dehydration. Malnutrition. Trauma. She's been locked inside that room for days—maybe weeks."
Aisha's stomach twisted. "Weeks?"
The doctor's eyes hardened disapprovingly. "Mr. Black, who authorized keeping her hidden like this?"
Aarav clenched his jaw. "I didn't even know she was here."
The doctor frowned. "But her documents say she was admitted under your family's instructions."
Aisha stiffened. "His family?"
Suddenly, everything fit too well.
The missing memory.
The locked room.
The secret woman.
The photograph.
Aarav's family had done this.
The doctor lowered his voice. "She regained consciousness for a few seconds before slipping back under. She said something… strange."
Aarav's eyes sharpened. "What did she say?"
"She said—'Don't let them find the wife.'"
Aisha froze.
The doctor's gaze shifted to her. "I assume she meant you."
Aarav instinctively stepped in front of Aisha, shielding her.
"What else did she say?" he demanded.
"That's all," the doctor replied. "She lost consciousness right after."
Aisha hugged herself tightly as cold fear slithered through her veins.
The wife.
Not the contract wife.
Not the fake wife.
The real wife.
Why was she being hidden?
Why was she being hunted?
Why was there a photo of her from before she even knew Aarav existed?
Her voice shook. "Aarav, someone is watching us."
Aarav's expression darkened. "Not someone. My family."
---
The Confrontation
When they returned to the penthouse, the first thing they noticed was the silence.
The house staff, who were usually quietly present, were nowhere to be seen.
Not a single shadow moved.
Not a single sound.
It felt like the entire penthouse had stopped breathing.
Aarav scanned the living room with sharp eyes. "Something is wrong."
Aisha felt her pulse quicken. "Where is everyone?"
Aarav didn't answer. He walked toward the dining area—
And stopped abruptly.
Aisha followed his gaze.
There, placed neatly on the dining table, was a small velvet box.
Black. Elegant. Closed.
Aarav's hand hovered over it.
"Aarav," Aisha whispered, "don't touch—"
He opened it.
Inside was a wedding ring.
Beautiful.
Diamond-studded.
Clearly expensive.
But it wasn't hers.
Sitting next to it was a small note.
Aarav picked it up and read silently.
His expression twisted.
He handed the note to Aisha.
Her blood turned to ice when she read it:
"You married the wrong woman again."
Below it, in handwriting sharp as a knife:
"Bring her home.
Before she remembers."
Aisha felt her knees weaken. "Aarav… what… what is this?"
Aarav crushed the note in his fist. His eyes burned with fury—dark and dangerous.
"This isn't a warning," he said.
"It's a threat."
Aisha grabbed his arm, her voice trembling. "Aarav… what does 'again' mean?"
He looked at her, and for the first time since she met him, she saw something terrifying in his gaze:
Recognition.
As if a memory—faint and painful—was struggling to rise to the surface.
"I think…" he whispered hoarsely, "I've lost more than just a few years of memory."
Aisha swallowed. "What did you lose?"
Aarav's voice broke.
"You."
The words stabbed through her—sharp, unexpected, devastating.
Aarav reached up, cupping her face with both hands.
"Aisha," he whispered, "I think you were my wife before. My real wife."
Her breath caught in her throat.
"And someone took you away from me."
Thunder cracked outside.
The penthouse lights flickered.
And from deep inside the house—
A door slammed.
Aisha jumped.
Aarav grabbed her hand instantly.
"We're not alone," he whispered.
And for the first time—
Aisha truly believed him.