Midnight. Private villa outside Mumbai. Thunder rumbling. You storm into Rohan’s grand study—marble floors, glass windows, and the faint smell of expensive cologne and gunpowder.

ROHAN’S STUDY – NIGHT

You burst in. He’s standing by the window, black shirt, sleeves rolled, jaw clenched. A fresh bruise is blooming on his cheek. There’s a pistol on the table. He doesn’t look at you.

YOU (angry, breathless) Tell me it’s not true. Tell me you didn’t burn the Mehra docks.

He slowly turns, eyes dark but soft when they land on you.

ROHAN (silently) They sent a message… I sent one back louder.

YOU (stepping closer) This isn’t some college fight, Rohan. You’re playing with lives now. With mine.

ROHAN (grim smile) You think I don’t know that? Every second I breathe in this world, I know it could cost me you.

He steps closer. You look up at him, torn between fury and fear.

YOU Then why stay in it?

ROHAN (quietly) Because I was born in it. Because if I don’t lead this empire, someone worse will. And because… no matter how dirty my hands get—I’ll never let them touch you.

He cups your face gently, the back of his hand stained with dried blood.

YOU (tears in your voice) You already have, Rohan. You touched my soul… and now it’s soaked in your war.

A pause. The storm outside rages louder. You could leave. You should.

ROHAN (broken whisper) If this life ever makes you doubt me… Pull the trigger.

He picks up the pistol, flips it, and holds the handle out to you.

ROHAN (cont’d) But just know—no matter what I’ve become… My heart has only ever knelt to one queen. You.

A beat. You stare at the gun… then drop it on the table.

YOU (sternly) Then let your queen stand beside her king. Not in shadows. Not in silence. But in fire.

He pulls you into him, forehead to forehead. Thunder cracks.