𝐆𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐬

The plan was discussed thoroughly, and everyone seemed satisfied with the strategy. They dispersed to focus on their respective tasks, while Saad, Aisha, Radhika, and Manvi drove to the hotel where the Joshi family was staying.

The ride was unusually long, thanks to Saad deliberately taking an extra hour to arrive, yet Aisha still sulked, thinking it was far too early to be here. Her irritation was palpable as the car finally came to a halt.

Saad glanced at her with a knowing smirk. "Still too early, huh?" he teased.

Aisha shot him a glare before stepping out of the car, followed by the others. The group walked confidently toward the rooms they had booked, heads held high.

Aisha's mood had somewhat improved as she took comfort in not encountering any of the Joshi or Rastogi clan so far. However, her relief was short-lived.

Her expression soured the moment she spotted Mr. and Mrs. Joshi walking toward them from the opposite direction.

She groaned inwardly and attempted to take a sharp turn, muttering under her breath, "I'll lose it if I have to confront to them."

Before she could retreat, Saad grabbed her arm, his voice firm yet calming. "Come on. I'm here this time. You've got this."

Aisha exhaled sharply, her shoulders dropping in reluctant acceptance. Together, they continued forward.

The Joshi couple noticed her immediately, their expressions hardening into disapproval. Mr. Joshi's voice was sharp as he barked, "Aisha! Where the heck have you been? I've been calling you nonstop. Don't you have the decency to acknowledge your father's calls?"

Aisha didn't break stride, rolling her eyes in disdain. "No," she replied flatly, brushing past them without so much as a glance.

"Aisha, stop right there-" Mr. Joshi's hand shot out to grab her arm, but before he could touch her, Saad stepped between them, his glare as icy as his tone.

"If I ever see either of you speaking to her like that again, I will personally ensure you lose your tongue." His words were calm yet laced with venom. "And for the record, you should be grateful she's even considering getting married. If it were up to me, I would never have let this circus happen."

The Joshi couple flinched at his words, their fear momentarily flashing before their masks of indignation snapped back into place.

Mrs. Joshi recovered quickly, turning her attention to Radhika. "Radhika," she began, her tone clipped, "tomorrow is her haldi in the morning. Make sure she's ready on time. I'll send her outfit to your room."

Radhika gave a tight nod, not trusting herself to say more. Saad didn't bother hiding his contempt as he followed Aisha, who had already walked off. Manvi and Radhika trailed after them silently, the tension lingering in the air like an oppressive cloud.

They walked inside the room, Aisha was glaring at the floor, her frustration palpable. Manvi walked up to her and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Aisha, I know you don't want to be near them, but it's just two days. After that, we're out of here. Just hold on, yaar."

Aisha sighed heavily. "Fine. But right now I'm going to sleep."

Radhika cut her off sternly. "No. You haven't eaten anything properly. First, eat, take your medicine, and then you can sleep."

Aisha rolled her eyes but nodded reluctantly. Saad, standing by the door, glanced at them. "You three stay here. I need to go handle something. If anything happens, call me immediately."

The three women nodded, but Aisha's curiosity piqued. "What work? As far as I know, you don't have any office tasks left-your PA told me. And I don't remember you having anything else."

Saad scowled, his brow furrowing. "Why were you talking to my PA?"

Aisha gulped nervously, then quickly fabricated an excuse. "I was bored, so I thought I'd stalk you a little."

He rolled his eyes, while Aisha internally sighed in relief. Saad hesitated before responding, his tone almost defensive. "It's... it's just someone I need to meet, okay?"

Aisha's eyes widened in mock realization. "Oh! So you're going to fuck someone?"

Radhika and Manvi choked on their laughter, while Saad's face turned a deep shade of red. He bit his inner cheek to control his reaction. He wasn't going to hook up with anyone, but he couldn't deny to that someone he is going to meet.

Radhika stepped in, trying to diffuse the moment. "Saad bro, you go. I'll handle her."

Aisha grinned mischievously. "Yeah, yeah, go have some fun."

She was met with a pillow thrown directly at her face by a blushing Saad. The room erupted in laughter.

I made my way up to the hotel terrace, lighting a cigarette. So much had been happening lately, especially with Aisha. I couldn't shake her struggles from my mind, even for a moment.

Then there was Ayush, who had been persistent about meeting me. He'd been asking since the Diwali party, but I had refused every time.

Why? Because I needed to focus on Aisha.

Last time, I let my emotions take precedence, and the result was devastating. She had a breakdown because I wasn't there for her, and I couldn't forgive myself for that. Since then, I've kept Ayush at a distance.

I asked him before to trust me and open up, but he's afraid-afraid of his parents, afraid of the weight their judgment carries. If it were up to me, I'd make them disappear.

People like them, who hide their cruelty behind golden facades, deserve nothing but ruin. In this gilded, hollow world of wealth, innocence is a rare commodity.

Out of any parents, only Rajendra Uncle stands as an exception. He's a genuine parent, a rarity in this world. And yet, I didn't trust him at first either-blame my own parents for that and Neha's. But he proved me wrong. Sometimes, I even wish I were his son also.

I exhaled deeply, taking another drag from my cigarette. My thoughts were interrupted by the familiar scent of Ayush as he wrapped his arms around me from behind. I stiffened at first, but then relaxed, recognizing him immediately.

"What do you want to talk about?" I asked, my tone neutral.

He stepped in front of me, his eyes searching mine. "Why are you avoiding me?"

I looked away, blowing out a cloud of smoke, letting the silence stretch between us. He didn't let it drop.

"Is it because of what happened at the Diwali party?" he pressed.

I stared at him. "What do you think?" I asked, my voice quieter than I intended.

He sighed, his gaze dropping to the floor for a moment before meeting mine again. "I left them," he said, his tone firm but with a flicker of vulnerability. "I left my parents."

"What?" I whispered, unable to mask my shock.

He leaned against me, his weight heavy but comforting, his voice breaking through the tension. "You were right. After Diwali, I cut ties. I waited my whole life for them to see real me-for them to acknowledge me, my dreams, anything. But they can't. They're consumed by greed, and that's all they'll ever be. I'm done hoping for something that won't happen. I'm earning more than enough with Aditya. Running his gaming company together feels real-something I can actually call mine. It's... freeing."

He paused, his eyes searching mine. "And now... if I want to fuck a guy, I don't care about their judgment anymore." His words were sharp, deliberate, like a challenge. "So, what about you? Are you still going to ignore me?"

For a moment, I couldn't move. Couldn't speak. Happiness unfurled in my chest, warm and overwhelming, but my silence betrayed me. He sighed, stepping back, his expression hardening as he turned away.

"Fine. Ignore me all you want," he said bitterly. "I am going to fuck someone else."

That snap me.

Before he could take another step, I grabbed his arm, yanked him back, and slammed him against the wall. His breath hitched, his eyes widening as I closed the space between us.

Without hesitation, I crushed my lips against his, pouring every ounce of frustration, longing, and unspoken emotion into the kiss. It was raw, desperate, like I needed him to feel the words I hadn't yet found.

When I finally pulled back, his breath was ragged, his lips parted in surprise. My voice was low, trembling with intensity as I whispered against his lips, "Dare any guy or girl lay a hand on you, and I swear, I'll burn them to ashes. Because. YOU. ARE. MINE."

His stunned silence was short-lived, his lips curving into a slow, wicked smile. "About time," he murmured, his voice teasing but heavy with relief. "I was starting to think you'd let me go."

I pressed my forehead against his, my fingers gripping his waist tightly. "Never. Not in this life. Not in any."

Vikram leaned casually against the dresser, his arms crossed, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He tilted his head, eyeing Aisha with mock scrutiny. "Raat ki Human Aisha bani din mein chudail. Kya baat hai, makeover ka kamaal," he teased, his voice dripping with mock admiration.
("At night, Aisha the human, and by day, a witch. Wow, what a transformation!")

The room exploded with laughter, Divyansh doubling over and nearly falling as he clutched his stomach. Aisha, painstakingly getting ready for the haldi ceremony under the weight of layers of Joshi-approved makeup. The layers were so thick it barely resembled her.

Pausing mid-adjustment, Aisha turned her sharp glare on Vikram-a glare so lethal it could cut through steel. Her lips twitched into a wicked smirk, and she leaned forward, her voice saccharine-sweet and laced with menace. "Sambhal ke, Vikkie Bhabhi. Kahin aap ka pallu na gir jaye."
("Careful, Vikkie Bhabhi. Make sure your pallu doesn't slip.")

The color drained from Vikram's face as he instinctively straightened the saree draped over his shoulders as part of his disguise. The room burst into even louder laughter, echoing off the walls as Divyansh slapped the dresser for support.

"Touché, Aisha. Touché," Divyansh wheezed, wiping at his eyes as he gave her a mock bow.

Vikram, however, was far from amused. He glared at Aisha, his lips twitching with suppressed frustration.

"This isn't over," he muttered, adjusting the saree with exaggerated care.

"Bring it, Vikkie Bhabhi," Aisha shot back, her smirk only widening.

Before another round of jabs could escalate, Radhika stepped in, her voice firm. "Enough, you two. And Divyansh, Vikram-tone it down. The last thing we need is someone figuring out that the two mysterious women in sarees came in Aisha's room are actually men in disguise."

Both brothers rolled their eyes but said nothing, their expressions caught somewhere between amusement and annoyance.

Just then, a sharp knock on the door made everyone freeze. The room went silent as tension thickened like a fog.

Aisha and Radhika exchanged quick glances before moving into action. Without a word, they shoved Vikram and Divyansh into the bathroom, the sound of their protests muffled as the door slammed shut.

Manvi, pulling herself together, moved to the door, only to groan audibly as she swung it open and saw Chandra standing there, arms crossed and wearing her trademark look of superiority.

"What now?" Manvi muttered under her breath, stepping aside as Aisha appeared behind her.

Chandra's eyes raked over Aisha from head to toe, her lips curling in mock approval. "Well, they certainly worked miracles on your ugly face. At least now you won't embarrass the family in front of the media."

Aisha arched a brow, her expression cool and unbothered, though her hands were clenched behind her back. "And?"

Chandra huffed, clearly irritated by Aisha's lack of reaction. "Kartik's haldi is almost done. Get downstairs quickly, and try not to ruin anything."

She turned on her heel, the air still heavy with her disdain, and left without waiting for a response.

As soon as the door closed, the tension in the room burst like a dam. Aisha let out a sharp, bitter laugh, her smirk returning. "Abb toh asli chehra leke jaungi," she declared, her voice laced with defiance.
("Now I'll show up with my true face.")

Manvi raised a brow, while Radhika crossed her arms. "What do you mean, 'asli chehra'?"
("What do you mean by 'true face'?")

Aisha came to hotel garden with measured grace, her head held high as she joined the bustling haldi ceremony. She was flanked by Radhika and Manvi, their steps confident, their faces brimming with suppressed excitement.

Vikram and Divyansh, meanwhile, had vanished into the shadows, perched somewhere out of sight but close enough to witness the drama about to unfold.

The place hushed as Aisha came into view. The Joshi and Rastogi families bristled visibly, their expressions darkening as they took her in. Even Chandra's scowl deepened, her discontent palpable. The reason? Aisha had stripped herself of every trace of makeup. Her face was bare, radiant with an untouched beauty that didn't need enhancement. The simplicity of her natural glow only heightened her allure, earning admiring whispers from the other guests.

Even Kartik, who had been engaged in small talk, was struck silent. His eyes followed Aisha as though nothing else existed, his thoughts plainly written across his face.

Aisha ignored it all-the whispers, the stares, the silent hostility. She moved with unshaken poise, settling into her seat as if the world around her were insignificant. Her friends mirrored her energy, casting side glances at each other, barely holding back their glee.

Mrs. Joshi, clutching her pearls in indignation, finally hissed, "Chandra! Go fetch the haldi bowl."

Chandra scowled but stomped off, her heels clicking sharply as she reached the table where the bright yellow bowl rested. The crowd's attention remained on Aisha, whispering about her audacious beauty, but Aisha and her gang had their eyes locked on Chandra, their expressions screaming trouble.

The moment Chandra grabbed the bowl, time seemed to slow.

Radhika leaned in, her voice barely a whisper. "One."

Manvi grinned, her excitement barely contained. "Two."

Aisha's smirk grew wicked. "And... splash."

Just as the words left her lips, the plan unfolded with surgical precision. A waiter, balancing an overloaded tray, stumbled conveniently into Chandra.

The haldi bowl flew out of her hands as if in slow motion, spinning mid-air before landing squarely on her head. The bright yellow paste drenched her face, hair, and saree in a spectacularly messy display.

Chandra shrieked, arms flailing as she tried to regain her footing, only to trip and fall unceremoniously onto the floor. Gasps filled the room, followed by the unmistakable sound of suppressed laughter.

The 'waiter,' who was none other than Veer in a masterful disguise-complete with a turban and a ridiculously long beard-straightened and offered an exaggerated bow. "Maafi chahte hain, madam," he said in an accent so thick it sounded straight out of a Bollywood comedy.
("I'm sorry, madam")

Aisha's lips twitched as Veer shot a sly wink toward her and her friends before disappearing into the crowd.

Chandra sat frozen, yellow paste dripping from her hair as an old lady in the crowd clapped her hands and declared, "Arrey, yeh toh apshagun ho gaya!"
("Hey, this is such a bad omen!")

Manvi and Radhika, unable to hold back any longer, exclaimed in perfect sync, "Hawww!" their hands flying to their mouths in mock disbelief.

The guests erupted in a mix of stifled chuckles and approving nods. A few even murmured about how auspicious this "accident" was. Chandra, however, looked like a volcano on the verge of eruption, her face an impressive blend of red and yellow.

Above, Divyansh leaned toward Vikram, barely containing his laughter.

Kartik stood afar, watching the chaos unfold like a perfectly choreographed comedy scene. His sharp eyes were on one person alone.

Aisha.

She was too calm, too composed, her smirk a little too satisfied. The way she exchanged glances with her friends, how they all sat there, their expressions barely hiding their glee.

Kartik's lips twitched into an involuntary smile. Of course, she had a hand in this drama.

Meanwhile, Aisha tilted her head ever so slightly, catching her friends' amused gazes. With a low chuckle, she muttered under her breath, just loud enough for them to hear, "Plan: Destroying Haldi-accomplished." Radhika and Manvi stifled their laughter as they winked back at her.

As the Joshi family scrambled to recover, bringing out a new batch of haldi paste, the atmosphere shifted. The replacement not of Kartik's paste was hastily applied.

✨

As the noon sun streamed into the room, Aisha stood before the mirror, adjusting the simple green suit for the mehndi. It was plain, a stark contrast to the ostentatious outfit the Joshis had forced upon her.

The peace didn't last long. Mrs. Joshi barged into the room, Chandra and her mother trailing close behind, their expressions a mixture of disdain and control.

Mrs. Joshi's eyes widened in disbelief. "Aisha, what is this?" she spat, gesturing toward the green suit. "I gave you a dress. Why are you wearing this cheap thing?"

Chandra crossed her arms, her tone dripping with mockery. "Aisha, change it. You're a Joshi; you need to look decent, not... whatever this is."

Aisha turned to face them, her gaze sharp and unwavering. "Isn't it a bit late to play the family card? As far as I recall, for the past 21 years of my life-my entire life, in fact-I've been nothing more than an orphan. So, why the sudden concern?"

The jab hit its mark, leaving Mrs. Joshi fuming. But it was Chandra's mother who delivered the blow that made Aisha's blood run cold.

"Of course, you were an orphan," she said with a cruel smirk. "Because you had no worth back then. But now? Now you're worth something-we sold you, didn't we?"

The words hung in the air, venomous and cutting. Aisha's jaw clenched as she suppressed the storm building inside her. Before she could respond, Radhika and Manvi, who had been silently observing, snapped.

Manvi smirked, stepping forward. "Congratulations, Chandra," she said, her tone laced with sarcasm. "You're going viral, I see. All yellow, all over. A true trendsetter."

Chandra's face turned a furious shade of red, her embarrassment mingling with rage. "Shut up, Manvi!" she shouted.

Before she could say more, Aisha stepped between them, her voice low and dangerous. "Don't shout at my friend," she hissed, giving Chandra a light but firm push that made her stagger back.

The tension escalated further as Mrs. Joshi raised her hand, ready to strike Aisha for her insolence.

But before her hand could descend, a calm yet commanding voice interrupted.

"I see I wasn't around this morning, and you've already forgotten what I told you."

All heads turned to see Saad standing in the doorway, his arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. His presence alone was enough to make the women pale.

Joshis instinctively stepped back, their earlier bravado vanishing.

Saad's piercing gaze swept over them before settling on Aisha. His tone softened slightly. "Go downstairs."

Aisha nodded silently, her friends following close behind as they exited. But not before Manvi shot Chandra one last smirk, mouthing, Yellow queen forever.

As they disappeared down the hallway, Saad leaned against the doorframe, his expression turning icy as he addressed the remaining women. "I suggest you keep your hands-and your tongues-in check. I won't be this polite next time."

Aisha came down and found a seat at the mehndi area, her sharp eyes scanning the room while Radhika and Manvi excused themselves to handle some task.

Not long after, Kartik appeared and slid into the seat beside her, glancing around cautiously before speaking. "I know what happened during the haldi. That was your doing."

Aisha didn't even blink, her voice laced with indifference. "Yeah. So what? Not like this marriage is going to happen anyway."

Kartik sighed, giving her a meaningful look, but Aisha met it with a sharp glare. "Did you get the papers?" she asked, her tone brisk.

Kartik shook his head. "Not yet. I've assigned my men to retrieve them somehow. I'm confident we'll have them before the wedding."

Aisha's lips curved into a dangerous smirk. "Tell them to work faster. If they fail, you'll witness my worst side tomorrow. Got it, Kartik?"

He gulped and nodded, quickly excusing himself to escape her glare.

Before Aisha could take a breath, Mrs. Rastogi approached with a veiled woman by her side.

"Aisha," Mrs. Rastogi said, "this is the mehndi artist. She'll ensure your hands look elegant. And don't forget," she added with a sweet tone, addressing the woman, "my son's name should shine on her hands."

As Mrs. Rastogi walked away, Aisha rolled her eyes so dramatically that anyone nearby could have heard the mental groan accompanying it.

She extended her palms lazily toward the woman and said with a smirk, "So, Kavya bhabhi, did you have fun sneaking in here with that ridiculous veil?"

The veiled woman sat before Aisha, taking her hands. As their skin touched, Aisha felt a jolt of warmth, the kind that traveled straight to her heart. Before Aisha could retract her hands, the woman slightly lifted the veil, revealing a smirking face beneath.

"Hi, baby," Rivaan drawled, his smirk as confident as ever.

Aisha's eyes widened, her heart leaping into her throat. "Aan?" she gasped, her voice barely above a whisper.

Rivaan's smirk deepened, clearly savoring her reaction. "Miss me?"

After mehndi function, Aisha sat cross-legged on her bed in her room, glaring at Rivaan with the intensity of a thousand suns. The room was packed, with Ayush, Aditya, and Gaurav now joining Saad, Vikram, Veer, Divyansh, Manvi, and Radhika. Her frustration was almost a tangible force in the air.

"Do you have any idea," she began, her voice a deadly whisper, "how insane it was to waltz in front of all those people-pretending to be mehndi artist in place of Bhabhi-when I was the center of attention?"

Saad, Vikram, Veer, and Divyansh nodded in synchronized agreement, their collective glares landing on Rivaan like a pack of judgmental wolves.

Rivaan, unfazed as usual, leaned back against the wall, his smirk firmly in place. "Well," he said with a shrug, "I missed you. So I came."

Vikram stood abruptly, cracking his knuckles with a menacing grin. "Well, I've missed punching you. Should I do that now?"

"Count me in," Veer added, rolling up his sleeves.

Rivaan raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "Go ahead. But remember, I'll heal faster than you'll recover from the guilt of upsetting her." He glanced meaningfully at Aisha.

Aisha groaned, facepalming. "God, just once, can someone put tape over his mouth? Please."

Gaurav quickly intervened, stepping between Rivaan and his looming doom. "Guys, let's not waste time fighting. Can we focus on the plan here? Be civilized for once."

"Exactly," Manvi added, though her mischievous grin betrayed her amusement. "Besides, Aisha's already killing him with her death stare. Why waste the energy?"

Ayush, the ever-curious one, raised an eyebrow. "Okay, so now that the haldi and mehndi are done, what's next?"

"Sangeet," Radhika replied, scrolling through her phone. "In two hours."

Aisha groaned louder this time, throwing her arms in the air. "Oh, come on! I am so done with this. I don't want to get ready anymore!"

Manvi snorted, shoving a chip into her mouth. "Don't be so dramatic. You have to get ready. It's your last chance to annoy everyone before the wedding."

Divyansh, lounging like a prince on the couch, chimed in, "By the way, has anyone seen Mr. Rastogi? It's his son's wedding, and he's been invisible."

Saad, who had taken over the bed and was sprawled like a king, muttered, "God knows. Just hope he doesn't become a wrench in our plan."

Meanwhile, Rivaan took the opportunity to saunter over to Aisha, his signature smirk firmly in place. He placed his hands on her shoulders, making her lean back slightly. "Relax," he whispered, his tone dripping with possessiveness. "No matter what happens, my name on your hands? Absolute perfection."

Aisha froze as her cheeks flushed crimson while seeing his name written in small on her hands. Butterflies erupted in her stomach, but she quickly masked it with a sharp elbow jab to Rivaan's ribs. "Get lost!" she hissed.

He laughed softly, leaning closer to whisper, "Can't. I'm addicted to you, baby."

Before she could snap back, a loud, aggressive knock startled everyone.

Aisha's eyes widened in panic. "Fast!" she hissed, waving her hands like a traffic cop. "Everyone, bathroom or closet, now!"

What followed could only be described as chaos.

Saad rolled off the bed like a lazy cat, dragging a reluctant Divyansh by the ankle. Veer and Vikram darted toward the closet like they were in an Olympic sprint. Rivaan, Ayush, Gaurav, and Aditya tripped over each other, wrestling to squeeze into the bathroom.

Only Radhika and Manvi remained seated, casually munching on snacks like they were watching a reality show.

Aisha glared at them. "Really?!"

Radhika shrugged. "What? I'm not leaving my chips for them."

Manvi added, "Besides, you've got this."

Aisha glared at them but didn't have time to argue. Taking a deep breath and opened the door.

Everybody has somehow managed to get into the hotel-even Rivaan, who took Kavya's place, thanks to his ridiculous eagerness. That leaves just me, Kavya, Neha, and Dad still here.

Shya's birthday is approaching. It's not a big deal for most people, but for her? It's complicated. We asked her friends about it, and what we learned was... heartbreaking. She's never celebrated her birthday. Not even once. Every year, she finds an excuse to slip away and avoid it altogether.

Saad and Neha tried to celebrate it for her once. Just once. But she lashed out at them, shutting the idea down completely.

But this year, I don't want that. Not anymore. We've all decided to tell her the truth right after this whole wedding drama ends. It's going to be hard for her-there's no sugarcoating that-but I hope, in the days that follow, she'll find some closure. And then... then we'll finally celebrate her birthday, the way she deserves.

Kavya, sitting across from me, broke my train of thought. "When are you planning to leave?"

"Tonight," I replied.

She nodded thoughtfully, then said, "Neha and I will join you tomorrow."

I gave her a small nod but couldn't help asking, "What do you think her reaction will be?"

Kavya moved closer, sitting in front of me. She reached out, holding my hands with her warm, steady grip. Her smile was soft but tinged with worry. "As far as I can tell, she might deny it at first. But deep down, she'll accept it. Arjun, we have to be ready for the worst, though. When she realizes why she was kept away from her family..."

Her voice trailed off, and I felt the weight of her words settling over me like a storm cloud.

I sighed deeply, the knot in my chest tightening. I know. It will be bad-why wouldn't it be? When she finds out that her own mother wanted her dead...

The words felt like poison on my tongue. I swallowed hard, my jaw tightening. We still don't understand how she survived when she was thrown from the cliff. How did she manage to get so far from Mumbai all the way to Uttar Pradesh? It doesn't add up... unless...

I trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

Kavya leaned forward and wrapped her arms around me, pulling me close. Without thinking, I pulled her into my lap, needing her warmth to anchor me.

She looked into my eyes and whispered, "Don't worry. Your sister is here with you now. Your dreams-they're not just dreams anymore."

Her words were a balm to my restless heart, and I nodded, managing a small smile. But the knot in my stomach refused to go away. Something was wrong. I could feel it deep in my gut-a sick, gnawing feeling I couldn't ignore.

"I don't know why," I said after a moment, "but I have this horrible feeling that something is going to happen."

Kavya tilted her head, concern flashing in her eyes.

Not willing to take any risks, I stood up abruptly, setting her down gently. "I think I'm leaving now. I can't stay away from her any longer."

The sangeet function was in full swing, and Aisha was seated beside Kartik, her smile as fake as a knockoff designer bag. Internally, she was already plotting how to eliminate every single member of the Joshis and Rastogis.

Meanwhile, in one of the hotel rooms, Veer, Vikram, Divyansh, and Gaurav were glued to their screens, watching the feed from the cameras discreetly placed in the hall. Each of them was silent, their eyes fixed on Aisha's carefully controlled expressions.

"She looks like she's about to snap," Vikram muttered, his voice low.

"Wouldn't blame her," Veer replied, leaning forward. "This entire setup is suffocating. And that Kartik-he's testing his luck."

Downstairs, Ayush and Aditya were already blending into the crowd, their plates full as they shared light-hearted banter with Manvi and Radhika. They kept their eyes on Aisha but maintained their cover, watching her every move while enjoying the food as if it were just another evening.

Rivaan was conveniently missing, occupied with some important work.

The host's voice cut through the music, drawing everyone's attention. "Ladies and gentlemen, it's time for our soon-to-be-married couple to take the stage for a dance!"

Aisha stiffened, her nails digging into her palm. Kartik, beside her, smiled as though the announcement were charming, leaning closer to whisper, "Shall we?"

"No. Fucking. Way," Aisha muttered under her breath.

Kartik's smile didn't falter. He leaned in further, his voice lower. "Don't forget-this is part of the deal. My father is watching, and so is everyone else. Play along."

Her jaw tightened as she stood, her movements robotic. She followed Kartik to the dance floor, each step feeling like it led her closer to a trap. Her hands hovered over his shoulders, careful not to actually touch him.

"Mirror what I'm doing," she said quietly, her tone steely. "And don't make this harder than it already is."

But Kartik, ever the opportunist, gripped her waist firmly and pulled her closer. His smile was charming, but his eyes gleamed with arrogance. "Dancing with you is a privilege. I'm not about to let this moment pass."

Aisha's breath hitched. Her rage simmered beneath the surface, her expression unreadable as her mind raced. Her voice dropped to a whisper, cold as ice. "Fine. Your wish."

She began to move, leading the dance with a precision and control that left Kartik struggling to keep up. The pace quickened, her steps sharp and deliberate, forcing him to match her intensity. He faltered, his grip loosening as his confidence wavered.

Then it happened.

Kartik's foot caught in the folds of her dress, and he stumbled. Aisha, ever the professional, remained poised, watching as he fell to the floor in a graceless heap. Her expression didn't change. She stood tall, her eyes hard as she looked down at him.

"I warned you," she said quietly, her words cutting through the murmurs of the crowd. With a flick of her hair, she turned and walked away, leaving him to gather himself off the ground.

The room was silent for a moment, the shock palpable. Then the whispers began, rippling through the crowd like wildfire. Some gasped, others chuckled nervously, unsure whether to applaud or pretend they hadn't seen.

Saad, leaning casually against a pillar, smirked. "Classic Aisha," he muttered, shaking his head.

Upstairs, the Oberoi brothers exchanged glances, their shock mirrored in each other's expressions.

"Remind me never to get on her bad side," Divyansh muttered, breaking the silence.

But Aisha wasn't done.

She made her way to the DJ system, her movements purposeful. Moments later, the hall was filled with the electrifying beats of Kamli.

Everyone turned to the stage. And there she was-Aisha. Dancing.

The moment her feet hit the floor, the world seemed to stop. Even in her elegant evening gown, the gown that once made her feel confined, she was a force to be reckoned with. Her limbs stretched and spun with an intensity that was almost otherworldly, as if the very act of dancing was a raw, unfiltered release of everything she had buried deep inside.

The music reverberated through the hall, but for Aisha, it was no longer just sound-it was freedom.

She wasn't just performing; she was making a statement. A mockery aimed directly at Mr. Joshi, the man who had crushed her spirit and made her feel small enough to stop dancing. He, who had once dictated every aspect of her life, now watched helplessly as she danced, her freedom flowing like fire.

Mr. Joshi, busy on a call in the corner, froze mid-sentence as he caught sight of her. His face darkened, his grip on the phone tightening.

"Yes, everything is going fine," he said sharply into the receiver, his eyes locked on Aisha. "Except sometimes, she's a little... handful. Don't worry. Tomorrow, the wedding will definitely happen."

The girl he thought he had broken, standing there, every inch the woman he could never control. His fists clenched. His jaw tightened. She was dancing, flourishing, in front of the world, and she was unstoppable. She was her own, powerful and free.

Unable to hold back the storm building inside him, Mr. Joshi's anger surged, clouding his thoughts. He slammed the phone down and stormed out of the hall.

After the sangeet, everyone dispersed to their rooms, but Aisha stayed back, busy with calls. She assured the others she'd join them later. As she was about to leave, her phone buzzed with a message from Aditya:

'Meet in Room 112. It's urgent.'

A crease formed on her forehead as she read the message. Room 112? That didn't make sense. All the rooms booked for their group were on the upper floors. Why the second floor? Still, she reasoned it might be something sensitive, a secret meeting perhaps, and decided to go.

The hallway on the second floor was unnervingly quiet, the only sound her heels clicking against the polished floor. Shadows stretched and flickered under the dim lights. Room 112 was at the far end, almost hidden in darkness.

The unease gnawing at her grew stronger, but she pushed it down, forcing herself to believe it was nothing. Reaching the door, she looked around one last time. Not a soul in sight. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she turned the knob and stepped in.

The room was shrouded in darkness, the kind that seemed alive, wrapping itself around her. Her pulse quickened. The air felt heavy, suffocating, as if the walls were caving in.

"Aditya?" she called out, her voice trembling, barely above a whisper.

No response.

A sudden click echoed-metal meeting metal. The lock.

Her breath hitched. Her stomach sank as she spun toward the door, but it wouldn't budge. She rattled the knob frantically, slamming her fists against the wood.

"Hello? Someone! Open the door!" Panic edged into her voice as she pounded harder. Still, no answer.

A sharp, acrid smell filled the air-paint.

Her eyes widened in realization. The fumes. Her breaths grew shallow, her lungs tightening painfully. Her chest heaved as the toxic smell invaded her senses, overwhelming her. She stumbled backward, the dark pressing down on her like a suffocating weight.

Her throat constricted, every gasp of air harder than the last. The paint fumes clawed at her lungs, and her mind screamed for oxygen. The cold, empty room spun around her, the shadows twisting and mocking her helplessness.

She didn't need to guess who was behind this. He's punishing me. For dancing. For defying him.

Her vision blurred, her trembling hands fumbling for her phone as a flashback from the past overwhelmed her mind. Her fingers felt clumsy, almost disconnected from her body, as she unlocked it, and Arjun's name appeared on the screen.

She hit the call button.

He answered on the first ring, his voice sharp with alarm. "Aisha? Where are you?"

She tried to speak, but her throat burned. Her voice was barely a whisper.

"112... Ge-get me..." Her breaths came in ragged gasps. "I... I can't... breathe..."

"Aisha? Aisha, what's happening? Stay with me!" His voice was frantic now.

But she couldn't. Her strength gave out, her legs buckling as she collapsed to the floor. The phone slipped from her hand, the faint sound of Arjun's voice calling her name the last thing she heard before darkness consumed her.

Target 🎯 - 125 votes & 90 comments

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