The sight of Ranvijay’s easy, dismissive glance at the striking investment broker—a glance that contained a world of shared history Adhya knew nothing about—had been a toxin in her bloodstream for three days.

It was not the banker’s looks that twisted the knife; it was the realization that Ranvijay had used her, Adhya, as a public display of ownership only to retreat into a private ease with someone else.