ππ°π’π¬πππ πππππ¦π©ππ’π¨π§ [πππ’π« πππ«π’ππ¬ #π]
"Forgive me, Hazel." That's what Krishav Nair, the man with an ego big enough to make gods insecure, had said, kneeling before the woman he called his wife. The woman he broke. The woman he worshipped. The woman he would kill and die for in the same breath. "How will I forgive myself for loving you?" That's what Shravanya Nair had answered, because this was no longer about forgiving him. It was about the foolishness of going back to the man who had murdered her soul, simply because her heart still craved the one holding the knife. But Krishav Nair wasn't stopping here. He was ready to kneel before gods he never believed in, bargain with devils he once outsmarted, and burn the very world he ruled-if that was the price to win her back. Because he believed Shravanya Nair was the prayer, and Krishav Nair was the only answer. Only, this won't be easy. If his ego could make gods bow, then her self-respect could make destiny itself kneel. And as they inch closer to each other, step by step, shadow by shadow, someone else is watching. Someone who plays God far too well. The closer they come to healing, the closer they walk to ruin.