The Last Bloom of Spring

The air in the corridor was thick with tension. Vikram shifted uncomfortably under Janaki's intense gaze. Kaal and Avani, still kneeling, exchanged nervous glances, unsure of what to do.
"Get up," Vikram finally said, his voice strained.
Kaal and Avani quickly rose to their feet, their expressions a mixture of unease and apprehension.
Janaki's eyes narrowed as she turned her attention to Mrinalini and Charulatha. "Hi," she said curtly, her voice laced with anger.
Mrinalini and Charulatha exchanged nervous glances before responding in unison, "Hi."
Janaki's lips tightened into a thin line. "Who are you?" she demanded.
Mrinalini stepped forward slightly, her voice calm but firm. "He is my husband."
Charulatha spoke next, her voice trembling slightly. "And I... I am his fiancée."
Janaki's face turned a shade of crimson. She stared at Vikram, her eyes blazing with fury. He felt a chill run down his spine under the intensity of her gaze.
"Three years," she spat, her voice venomous. "Three years, and there are already two more! Is this all? What do you think of women? How many more do you want?"
Her voice rose to a crescendo, echoing through the corridor. Everyone in the room flinched, startled by her outburst. Vikram opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.
"You disgust me!" she screamed. "You treat women like... like... trophies! Collecting them as if they're nothing more than ornaments to decorate your life!"
Fear and discomfort gripped everyone in the room. Vikram's eyes darted to his uncle, pleading for help.
Uncle hesitated, then stepped forward, his voice firm but calm. "Janaki," he said, "and the rest of you, perhaps it would be best if we all retired for now. There are matters of great importance, entrusted by Great Uncle, that require discussion."
Janaki's glare lingered on Vikram for a moment, her fists clenched. Then, with a sharp exhale, she turned and stormed out, slamming the door behind her. Mrinalini and Charulatha exchanged glances and followed reluctantly.
As the door closed, Vikram let out a long sigh, his shoulders slumping. He turned to Kaal, his voice barely above a whisper, "Are you still living at the First Prince's palace? And how is Madhu? She lives nearby, doesn't she?"
Before he could finish his question, a deafening crack shattered the silence. The bullet hit the ceiling just above Vikram's head, sending a cascade of dust and splinters raining down. Everyone's heads snapped toward the source of the shot. Janaki stood in the doorway, a pistol in her trembling hand, her face a mask of rage.
"Madhu?" she spat, her voice shaking with fury. "You're already juggling three women, and now you're thinking about another? Have you no shame?"
Her words hit Vikram like physical blows. He raised his hands in a placating gesture, but Janaki's voice only grew louder.
"How many more do you need?" she screamed. "Tell me, Vikram! What is the limit to your insatiable greed?"
Uncle stepped forward again, his hands raised as if trying to calm a wild animal. "Janaki, enough! This is not the time for this. Put the gun down!"
Janaki's hand wavered her expression a volatile mix of anger and anguish. Finally, she let out a frustrated cry, lowered the weapon, and stormed out, slamming the door behind her.
The silence that followed was suffocating. Vikram slumped into a chair, his head in his hands. Kaal shifted uneasily, breaking the silence.
"That was… intense," he muttered.
Vikram glanced at him, his face pale and drawn. "You have no idea," he whispered. Then, shaking his head as if trying to clear it, he straightened and looked at Kaal again.