Chapter 4: The Stolen Smile

Siddharth's mother was furious.

"You shameless girl! How dare you kiss my son like that in front of everyone?"

She pushed Sana away roughly.

Sana didn't even flinch.

She just smiled sweetly and tilted her head.

"Why, Aunty? Haven't you ever kissed Uncle?"

His mother's jaw dropped.

"my god! What a disgusting, brazen thing to say!"

But Sana wasn't done.

She shrugged casually.

"Anyway, Aunty, you want Siddharth to get married, right? Fine. We'll get married."

"But listen—if we do, I'm not living with you. Siddharth and I will live separately. And he'll only visit you when I say he can."

The words hit Siddharth's mother like a slap.

She went pale.

She pictured it instantly:

Her son leaving.

Her future daughter-in-law refusing to let him visit.

Her crying alone in an empty house.

The image made her chest tighten painfully.

No. Never.

She let out a small, strangled cry.

Without warning, she grabbed Siddharth's wrist and yanked him close.

"My son is mine!" she shouted desperately.

She stroked his hair, voice cracking.

"My precious boy…I promise. I'll never force you to marry again. Just don't marry this witch. Please, Siddharth, please!"

Siddharth blinked.

For a moment, he almost laughed.

He understood exactly what Sana was doing.

She scared her on purpose. Manipulative little fox.

But as he looked at Sana—smiling wickedly behind his mother—he felt something strange.

A hot twist in his chest.

His heartbeat picked up.

She's trouble. She's dangerous.

Why the hell can't I look away?

He gently hugged his mother.

"Calm down, Ma. Don't worry. I'm not marrying her."

Behind them, Sana watched, her grin widening.

But Siddharth's mother wasn't done.

She turned around and pointed at Sana.

"Get out! Out of this room! You're not welcome here!"

Sana gave a mocking little bow.

"Of course, Aunty."

Siddharth sighed.

As his mother dragged him further into the room, he turned back over his shoulder.

"Wait for me outside," he told Sana.

"Sure," she chirped, waving playfully.

He shut the door with a tired groan.

Outside, Sana wandered to a waiting bench and sat, legs crossed.

She touched her lips, still warm from that impulsive kiss.

Her fingers trembled slightly.

What the hell did I just do?

She wasn't sure herself.

Why had she kissed him?

Why was she trying to help him?

She shook her head and laughed softly.

"Idiot," she whispered to herself.

"You've really lost it this time."

Just then, the sound of high heels snapped her attention away.

She looked up.

A glamorous actress swept past her.

The woman's hospital-visit dress was stunning: a shimmering designer hot dress that caught every light.

She was surrounded by bodyguards.

Sana's eyes went wide.

She didn't blink.

Beautiful. Perfect.

But suddenly, a wave of dizziness hit her.

Her vision blurred.

Her head pounded.

When she opened her eyes again…

She was smiling.

But it wasn't the same shy, confused smile as before.

This one was sly.

Playful.

Dangerous.

She looked down at her own clothes—a simple, faded salwar suit.

She wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"Ugh. So boring."

She brushed her long hair over her shoulder.

"Let's try something more…fun."

She watched the actress disappear down the corridor toward the private rooms.

Then she got up slowly, cracking her neck.

That wicked grin stayed in place.

She followed.

Inside the hospital washroom, it took barely five minutes.

A loud thump.

The actress lay slumped against the tiled wall, unconscious.

Her guards were sprawled outside in the hall, groaning, dizzy.

Sana laughed softly.

"Oops."

She undressed the actress with practiced speed, swapping their clothes expertly.

She admired herself in the mirror.

"Now this is style."

She tied her long black hair into a sleek ponytail.

Put on the actress's designer sunglasses.

She winked at her reflection.

"Perfect."

She stepped outside confidently.

No one even looked twice.

The guards were still too dazed to stop her.

Outside the hospital entrance, Sana paused.

Her eyes scanned the parking lot.

She spotted a shiny black Bullet motorcycle.

Her grin widened.

"Oh, yes. That'll do nicely."

She walked over, hips swaying.

Checked the ignition.

Unlocked in seconds.

She swung a leg over it, ran a hand through her ponytail, and revved the engine.

She glanced back at the hospital building one last time.

And took off, tires screaming against the pavement.

Meanwhile, inside, Siddharth was calming his mother down.

"I promise, Ma. I won't marry her. Relax."

She sniffled.

"You swear?"

"I swear."

"Good. I hate that girl. She's evil."

Siddharth let out a long, tired breath.

God, what a mess.

He finally stepped out into the corridor.

"Sana?"

No answer.

He looked left.

Right.

Empty.

Panic flared in his chest.

He ran to the nurses' station.

"That girl with me—where did she go?"

They blinked at him.

"We…we didn't see her leave, sir."

He cursed under his breath and sprinted to Security.

"Pull up the CCTV."

They rewound the footage.

His eyes scanned the grainy images.

There.

Sana.

Walking behind the actress.

But there was something off.

Her walk was…too confident.

Too playful.

The next clip showed her emerging from the washroom in that expensive designer dress.

Hair sleek.

Glasses on.

She paused in front of the hospital doors.

Smirked at the camera.

And walked right out.

Siddharth's jaw clenched.

That little—

He kept watching.

Another camera.

Sana crossing the parking lot.

Hopping onto the Bullet motorcycle.

He watched in fury as she saluted the camera mockingly.

And sped off into the night.

Siddharth's eyes were wide with disbelief.

He ran a hand through his hair, cursing out loud.

Who the hell ARE you, Sana?