Anshita stormed out of the canteen, her heels clicking against the tiled floor with every furious step. Her perfectly manicured nails dug into her palm, and her cheeks burned red with humiliation. Kabir, the man she had always thought was on her side, had publically humiliated her—for Sitara.

She clenched her fist, ignoring the sharp sting in her burned hand. The whispers around her felt like needles pricking her ego. Kabir is siding with a nobody... A scholarship girl? The disbelief in people's murmurs only fueled her anger. She threw open the door of her car, her mind already scheming.