The bedroom door clicked shut behind Iqbal, Mallika was already there, perched on the edge of the king‑size bed, her silk nightgown rumpled from sleep. She blinked up at him, eyes heavy with the remnants of sleep, a faint crease between her brows betraying the unease that his sudden absence had stirred.

He moved to the bedside, the cold of the floor seeping through the soles of his bare feet, and sank onto the mattress beside her. His hand rose instinctively, fingers finding the curve of her cheek. He pressed his thumb lightly against her jaw, feeling the faint tremor of her pulse.