Wife underwent a complete facelift to escape her brutal husband. But she never expected that the day she returned to seduce him to take revenge, she was shocked to discover the horrifying truth.
In the small Chawl area on the outskirts of Mumbai, everyone said that Anaya had a “red face, but a tragic fate”. The kindergarten teacher with an oval face and deep, sad eyes should have been cherished. But life pushed her into a marriage with Raghav – a nouveau riche, rude and pathologically jealous car garage owner.

On the wedding night, Anaya did not receive a sweet kiss but a slap from the sky just because Raghav saw her smiling with an old classmate at the wedding. From that moment, her life fell into hell.

Raghav treated his wife as his property. He forbade her to wear bright saris, forbade her from using social media, and controlled every minute and second. Whenever Anaya disobeyed, or simply Raghav lost a cricket bet or drank, her body would be covered with bruises.

Anaya had once run away to her mother’s house in Pune, but her parents – for the sake of family pride – advised her to return:

“Every husband and wife have their disagreements, you should be patient for the sake of peace.”

She was patient… until the fateful day.

One rainy afternoon, when Anaya was four months pregnant, Raghav returned drunk. Seeing the cold food tray, he went crazy, threw everything on the ground and rushed to beat his wife. A powerful kick to the stomach sent Anaya crashing into the corner of the table. Blood was flowing… and the baby was lost.

Lying in the cold hospital room in Mumbai, looking at her disfigured face and the pain of losing her child, Anaya did not cry. Her eyes were as empty as ashes:

“Either I die… or this weak Anaya has to die.”

And she chose the latter.

Three months later, on a stormy night, Anaya disappeared. She withdrew all her savings, sold her hidden wedding jewelry, left behind a signed divorce paper, and disappeared from Raghav’s life.

18 months later…

Anaya entered another hell – the hell of plastic surgery. At a beauty salon near the India-Nepal border, she accepted a painful transformation: jaw shaving, nose job, liposuction, voice correction… Each time she was cut, she told herself:

“I have to be beautiful. I have to be strong. I have to become someone else to make him pay.”

When the bandages were removed, the woman in the mirror was no longer the country Anaya. She was a cold, seductive beauty. She changed her name to Kavya, learned to walk like a model, learned to drink wine, learned to smile mysteriously.

Kavya returned to Mumbai, applied to be a manager at a luxury lounge where Raghav often went. The plan for revenge began.

Raghav was doing well in business at the time, having just opened two large garages. But his grumpy and flirtatious nature had not changed at all. That night, when he entered the bar, he was immediately attracted to the woman in the high-slit red dress at the bar – Kavya.

He flirted. Kavya looked at him coldly and smiled:

“You are Raghav from Santacruz? I have heard of her for a long time, but in real life… she is more normal than I thought.”

That arrogance made Raghav even more crazy. He pursued her, gave her gifts, booked the whole bar just to invite her for a drink. Kavya was very good at playing cat and mouse – sometimes close, sometimes distant, sometimes coy, sometimes cold.

Three months later, Raghav completely fell into the trap. He took Kavya to meet his friends, letting her touch the business books. Kavya secretly collected evidence of tax evasion, smuggling spare parts, and recordings of him boasting about “dealing with” his competitors.

The fateful day came

Raghav knelt down in the luxurious villa, proposing to Kavya with a diamond ring:

“Kavya, be my wife. I will give you everything.”

Kavya smiled and accepted the ring:

“Okay. But before that, I want to see our bedroom.”

In the alcohol, Raghav’s true nature emerged. He pinned her down on the bed, his eyes red:
“You are mine. From now on, don’t smile at any other man.”

Kavya smelled alcohol, that voice… like a nightmare from the past. But she was no longer afraid. She pushed him away, adjusted her dress, then connected the phone to the TV screen.

“Brother Raghav, before we ‘consummate the marriage’, I have a gift for you.”

The screen lit up. Appeared:– Raghav beating Anaya
– Injury certificate
– Miscarriage record
– Evidence of tax evasion and smuggling

Raghav paled, stammering:
“Why do you have…?”

Kavya stroked her hair to reveal the scar behind her ear – the scar from when Raghav threw the ashtray at Anaya.

Her voice returned to its old tone:
“Look closely. Don’t you recognize me?”

Raghav was stunned, then stepped back as if he had seen a ghost:
“Ah… Anaya?!”

“Yes. It’s the Anaya you beat until you lost your child.”

Kavya screamed, tears streaming down her face. She threw the USB on the table:
“Here’s everything to put you in jail!”

But Raghav suddenly burst into tears. He didn’t attack. He didn’t ask for the USB. He ran to the locked cabinet in the corner of the room, trembling as he opened it.

Inside wasn’t a safe.

But it was a small altar.

On it was a photo of Anaya when she was 20. Next to it was her blood-stained maternity clothes – washed and folded.

“I thought you were dead…” – Raghav choked –
“I searched everywhere for you. I quit my job for half a year. They said they found a woman’s body floating in the river like you… I’ve been living in sin for the past two years. I swore I wouldn’t marry again because I was afraid I would hurt someone again.”

Kavya was stunned.
Not because he was pitiful…

but because she realized: the sentence of conscience that had imprisoned him for two years was more painful than any legal sentence.

The joy in her heart suddenly disappeared. Only emptiness remained.

She picked up the USB. Raghav closed his eyes, waiting for the verdict.

“Click.”
The sound of a lighter rang out. Kavya burned her own memorial photo, broke the USB in half.

“Anaya is dead.”

Her voice was calm –
“The person standing here is Kavya.”

“You… forgive me?” – Raghav trembled.

Kavya shook her head.

“I don’t forgive you. But I don’t want these new hands to be dirty because of you. Your remorse is punishment enough.”

She walked out the door.

“Anaya! Don’t go! I have everything, I will make it up to you!”

Kavya stopped.

“You’re wrong. You have money.

And I… I have freedom.”

Outside, the Mumbai wind blew cool against her face. She took off her heels and walked barefoot on the wet grass. Kavya deleted Raghav’s number, deleted all the recordings, all the evidence.

She looked up at the night sky.

She had won.

Not because she had ruined his reputation,
but because she had freed herself.

Tomorrow, the Mumbai sun would rise again.
And Kavya would live a brilliant life –
not for anyone else,
but for herself