The small amber nightlamp cast a soft, honey-colored glow across the master bedroom, painting long, warm shadows against the walls. The soft hum of the air conditioner and the rhythmic ticking of the wall clock were the only sounds disturbing the quiet night. Meenakshi lay on her side of the bed, her back turned completely toward Devansh, her small frame wrapped tightly under the heavy cotton blanket.

Devansh lay beside her, a beautiful, incredibly wicked smirk spreading across his face. The complete silence from her side, paired with those continuous, flat "hmmm" responses downstairs at the dinner table, had finally made the pieces click in his sharp mind.