All Chapters of The Other Woman : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

KIYARA’S POINT OF VIEW I woke up to warmth. A solid, familiar warmth that wrapped around me, holding me close, like it belonged to me. For a fleeting second, I wanted to stay there...to sink into the comfort, the security, the illusion. Then reality slammed into me. I'm at the private apartment, the apartment raghav bought for us only. My body ached in ways that told me exactly what had happened. The bare sheets against my skin, the slow throb between my legs, the scent of whiskey and him still lingering in the air...everything came rushing back. My body naked against him. My breath caught in my throat. No. No, no, no. I stiffened, my fingers curling into the sheets as my mind scrambled to piece together the night before. The alcohol. The heartbreak. The way he had held me, touched me, kissed me like I was the only thing he ever wanted. My heart slammed against my ribs. I turned my head, dread pooling in my stomach as my gaze landed on him. Raghav. He was still aslee

NATASHA'S POINT OF VIEW "But you did." My voice was barely audible. "You still are. I am your wife," I cut in, my voice trembling. "We made vows." His gaze hardened. "You know this marriage was never real." I flinched. Even though I had always known our marriage was arranged for business, I had still let myself fall for him. And now, he looked at me like I was just an inconvenience. "I'm not signing them," I said, holding the papers tighter. He exhaled heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Please, don't make this harder." When he finally spoke again, his voice was tight. "Natasha, please. Just sign them." I laughed, bitter. "You think it's that simple? You break the agreement now and my father's company takes the hit. Years of work gone overnight. Does that even register with you?" He tilted his head, and when he spoke, his voice was low, clipped. "The only thing that registers with me is that I can't hurt my Kiyara anymore." My chest ached. "Do you have any idea

Vikram's POV (The day of divorce). There are truths Raghav doesn't know. And some part of me wonders if he even deserves to know them. It's not just that Natasha hurt Kiyara in college-no, that's only the surface. There were whispers, little cruelties laced in every smile, a quiet campaign to isolate her until she was nothing but a shadow of herself. I saw the aftermath. I saw her shut herself in her room, lying on her bed, clutching her pillow like it was the only thing holding her together. She never told Raghav. And I always wondered if that was because she was protecting him... or protecting herself from his reaction. But I know one thing-if Raghav had seen what I saw back then, the way Kiyara would stare into the dark, like she was trying to find herself in it... he would have burned the whole world to the ground for her. Or maybe I'm wrong. Maybe he wouldn't have. Because here we are, years later, and he's still blind. When she told me she was pregnant... she didn't s

Natasha's POV I stood by the fire, my arms wrapped tightly around myself, though the heat from the flames was scorching my skin. They didn't see me. Not really. Raghav's world had shrunk down to the fragile girl in his arms-the same girl who had been the shadow between us from the very beginning. And me? I was just... there. Watching. Watching as he carried her in like she was made of glass, as though the rain had been cruel to her, as though the whole universe had wronged her. She's pregnant.. pregnant? God, how many nights had I begged for the same? How many times have I tried reaching out, telling about the future we were supposed to build together? A baby, Raghav. Let's have a baby. Your parents want an heir. The company needs a future. We should... we should try. Every time I said it, his jaw would tighten, his eyes would turn to stone. He never answered. He never touched me. Not once. Not even when everyone expected it, not even when I thought maybe

TWO MONTHS LATERRAGHAV'S POINT OF VIEW She was glowing. Even in the dim light of our apartment, she radiated something indescribable. Maybe it was the soft glow of impending motherhood, or maybe it was the way she cradled her belly, shielding our child as if protecting them from the world, including me. Our baby. A life we created together. A piece of her and a piece of me. The weight of that truth pressed on my chest. I wanted this. Us. A family. I had dreamt of holding her close as we waited for our child to enter the world. I had imagined placing my hand on her stomach, feeling the gentle flutters of life within her. I had pictured us laughing, making plans, talking about baby names in the middle of the night. But instead, here we were, distant, broken, barely holding onto the remnants of what we once were. And it was my fault. I moved toward her, my heart pounding with an ache so deep it almost hurt to breathe. She sat curled up on the couch, her fingers tracing sof