Mansi felt the heavy weight of the unborn child in her womb, a burden not just of new life, but of her in-laws' desperate longing for an heir, and the suffocating pressure of endless, elaborate rituals. Longing for a reprieve, she sought out her husband Aman's office, hoping for a moment of solace. However, Aman's secretary, Vrushali – usually so docile and respectful – now had venom in her eyes, her secret obsession having twisted into corrosive jealousy. The moment Mansi threw herself into Aman's embrace, something snapped inside Vrushali. (*Jealousy was driving her mad! This bitch is pregnant, and she dares to flaunt it here!*) A sharp crack shattered the office's false calm. Vrushali's full-force slap landed squarely on Mansi's face. Grabbing Mansi by her hair, she dragged her like a ragdoll into the conference room. “Do you see her?! This is the slut who entices the boss! Teach her a lesson!” Vrushali shrieked, her eyes sweeping over the petrified employees, every word a barb. “Well? Get to it! Do I have to personally teach you how to deal with a shameless woman like this?” Caught between Vrushali’s rabid gaze and the potential wrath of their employer’s wife, the employees trembled. Some hesitantly stretched out a hand, while others deliberately averted their gaze. The conference room filled with Mansi’s helpless sobs and Vrushali’s triumphant, twisted grin. Just then, Mansi’s phone vibrated violently in her pocket, the screen displaying “Aman.” A glimmer of hope flashed, then vanished. Vrushali was quicker, snatching the phone, answering it, but immediately putting it on mute. “Mansi?” Aman’s voice came through the receiver, tinged with confusion. “Are you still in the office? I thought I heard something strange…” Vrushali calmly held the phone to her ear, a cold, sinister smile playing on her lips. “Mr. Aman, Mrs. Mansi has already left. You must have misheard.” As she spoke, she gently scratched the phone’s receiver with her finger, creating a few muffled static noises, completely severing Mansi’s last thread of hope for rescue. Far on the other end, Aman felt an inexplicable unease surge through him. The faint, broken sounds of distress lingered like a phantom in his ears, making him restless. He tried to convince himself it was his imagination, but a strong sense of foreboding coiled around his heart like a cold snake, tightening its grip. In the conference room, Vrushali’s madness continued to escalate. “Destroy this bastard!” she shrieked, pointing at Mansi’s visibly swollen belly, further inciting the terrified employees. “A child born of such a base slut doesn’t deserve to live!” From the depths of despair, Mansi let out a guttural roar that shook them to their bones. The sound tore through all weakness and fear, carrying an inviolable authority: “I am the President of this company! I am Mr. Dixit’s wife!” Her declaration, like a clap of thunder, reverberated through the conference room. The employees froze. Vrushali’s smile froze on her face. Just then, the office door burst open with a crash! Aman rushed in, his suit disheveled, clutching a photo of Mansi in his hand. His eyes, like a hawk’s, swept over the chaotic scene, his voice filled with towering fury and a barely perceptible tremor: “Where is my wife?!” Vrushali’s face instantly drained of color. She knew her lies and her crimes had nowhere left to hide.