Sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, washing the master bedroom in gold. Aashika stirred slowly, sore in places she hadn’t even known existed. Riaz's arm was wrapped tightly around her waist, holding her as if she might vanish.

She turned in his embrace and whispered, "Morning, husband."

His eyes blinked open, the heat in them instant.

"Say it again."

She smiled. "Husband."

He growled softly and kissed her collarbone. "Get ready. I have something planned."

Two hours later, they stood at the Malhotra private helipad.

Riaz’s hand never left her waist as they stepped into the jet. Aashika blinked at the luxury inside—velvet seats, chilled champagne, and a custom cake that read: Mrs. Malhotra.

"Where are we going?"

"Our honeymoon. But not before I show you something important."

Her eyes narrowed playfully. "A surprise?"

"A truth."

The jet landed on a secluded island off the Arabian Sea—a property owned by the Malhotras for generations. But what waited beyond the palm trees wasn’t just romance.

It was the Malhotra vault. Underground. Hidden. Guarded.

Inside, behind biometric locks and steel walls, Riaz opened a chamber.

Aashika froze.

Photos. Letters. Maps. Documents.

All detailing every man who had ever come near her.

"What is this?" she asked quietly.

"My obsession," Riaz admitted. "Since the day I lost you after graduation. I made it my mission to find you again. To know who was near you. Who touched your world. Who might’ve taken you away from me."

Tears welled in her eyes. "Riaz..."

He pulled out a box.

Inside: her college bracelet. Her old anklet. The letter she meant to give him.

"I kept everything. Even the chocolate wrapper you threw at me during our last class."

Aashika stared at him. Heart full. Soul trembling.

"You really never stopped loving me."

He stepped closer. "I never stopped breathing you."

That night, on the private beach with the moon above them and waves crashing nearby, Aashika sat on his lap, wearing only his shirt.

"Tell me more secrets," she whispered.

Riaz exhaled. "There’s one more."

He pulled out a manila folder. She opened it.

Inside: a picture of someone she hadn’t seen in years. Her ex-fiancé.

"He’s not who you think he was, Aashi. He worked for the same network that tried to target my family. He got close to you to get to me."

Her blood turned cold.

"He’s dead now."

She looked up. "Did you—?"

"Yes."

A beat of silence.

Then Aashika leaned in and kissed him.

Hard.

"You did what you had to do. And I’ve never felt safer."

His grip tightened around her. The night air thick with danger and devotion.

Because in their world, love wasn’t just red.

It was black.