The world outside Riaz’s bulletproof windows was bathed in neon, but inside, the air had turned to ice.

Aashika sat curled on the couch, staring at the photograph of her mother. Riaz paced behind her like a caged storm.

"Her name was never in any of the old ledgers," Aryan said from the laptop screen. "But this man beside her? He worked directly under the Gaurav Syndicate. Smuggling. Arms. Trafficking."

Aashika’s voice was a whisper. "My mother would never..."

Riaz stepped in. "Then it’s time we find out what she did."

The next day, they flew to Delhi.

Aashika hadn’t been back to her parents' house since the wedding.

She wore no makeup. No heels. Just Riaz’s black hoodie and fierce eyes.

Her father was absent—"business trip" they said. Her mother, however, opened the door with the same fake elegance she'd always worn.

"You brought your husband. How charming."

Riaz gave her a single nod.

Aashika cut straight to the chase.

"Tell me what the hell this is." She threw the photo on the glass table.

Her mother went pale.

"Where did you get this?"

"Answer me."

Her mother sat down, exhaling. "It was before you were born. A mistake. I was pulled in by charm, by fashion promises, by control. I didn’t know the depth. I got out."

"You stood beside a trafficker. Don’t lie to me."

Her mother’s voice cracked. "I paid for that chapter. I buried it. You were my clean start."

Riaz spoke. Calm, deadly. "And now someone is digging it back up. To use against your daughter."

Her mother looked at him. "You’re the reason she’s in this danger."

Aashika stood tall. "No. He’s the reason I survive it."

That night, back at their safe house, Aryan called.

"We found where the leak came from. One of our own. Switched sides. He’s in Mumbai now."

Riaz’s eyes darkened. "Send me the name."

Midnight. Abandoned parking structure.

The traitor tried to run.

But Riaz caught him.

And what followed wasn’t quick.

He tied the man to a chair under the flickering light and slowly—methodically—broke each finger.

"You gave them her mother’s photo. Why?"

"Raichand paid more."

Crack.

"He said he wanted her to suffer."

Crack.

"He said he’d take her away."

Riaz's voice dropped to a whisper.

"No one takes what is mine."

The traitor didn’t scream after that. He didn’t have a tongue left to use.

Riaz returned home bloodied but calm.

Aashika waited in their bedroom, eyes on the journal again.

"How far will you go for me?" she asked.

He touched her face, reverent and raw. "All the way."

Then he whispered, "Because sin runs in my bloodline. And love? It bleeds beside it."