She's been dancing
with the devil all night
It's like hell is where
she wanna be~
Arsh's eyes bore into Aayansh's, who seems almost bored by the hatred blazing in his brother-in-law's gaze.
Tara looks at Aashika, whose face is a void.
"What kind of people are these three?" she mutters to herself, standing between three full-fledged grumps.
Then, a small smile unexpectedly tugs at Arsh's lips as he extends his hand toward Aayansh. "Welcome," he says.
Aayansh's gaze drops to the offered hand before returning to Arsh's face, a slow smirk curving his lips.
He extends his hand toward him as well, but instead of taking Arsh's, his fingers close around Tara's wrist, pulling her to his side. "This is better," he responds.
Arsh goes still, his jaw clenching as anger flashes across his face.
Unfazed by their reactions, Aayansh takes one hand out of his pocket and rests it around Tara's waist.
Arsh buries his anger beneath practiced composure. "Well," he drawls, "sometimes I wonder how Tara handles this attitude of yours." His stare softens as it settles on Tara.
"She's always been pampered-"
"You don't have to wonder about that, Brother-in-law," Aayansh cuts in casually. "She handles... very well. Not just my attitude," His eyes drop to Tara, who is visibly flustered.
And his smirk deepens. "But everything that happens between us."
Another crack appears in Arsh's composure.
Aashika lowers her gaze, the words around her barely registers. Her mind is still caught on what Aayansh had said just moments ago: "And you're my sister, that-can never protect you from me."
And not just that... he's noticed the blood on her lips, despite her best efforts to wipe it away.
But he hasn't said anything. He hasn't asked anything.
Well, Tara looks like she wants to disappear.
"Princess," Arsh says softly to Tara. "Go... enjoy the venture." He glances at Aayansh.
"Your husband and I need to talk."
Tara nods. Looking between the two men, Aashika sighs. "Please don't start here. Be in the boardroom on time."
She gestures for Tara to come with her, and they leave together.
Now, only Arsh and Aayansh are left behind. Once Tara is gone, Arsh looks at Aayansh, only to find him already watching him with that same bored gaze.
Minutes later, Arsh settles onto the chesterfield sofa, clearly having no intention of revealing what is truly on his mind.
"Well, I think," Arsh resumes, picking up exactly where he'd left off in the hall, his tone edged with mockery, "you should learn to keep certain things private, no?"
Aayansh lights the cigar between his lips, his back still to Arsh. "I'm not dragging you to my bedroom, Arsh Jindal."
The sarcasm is gone. His voice is cold now, fully aware that Arsh is trying to play games with him.
Arsh's expression hardens.
"One night," he says, his voice is low and final. "That's all it takes to bring that confidence crashing down."
This time, Aayansh doesn't bother replying. His eyes lower to the burning cigar between his fingers. One corner of his mouth lifts... not a smile, not a smirk. Just enough to suggest that this threat had just amused him.
Here, as Aashika makes her way ahead, everything that happened comes rushing back to her.
F L A S H B A C K
Ending the call with Enzo, Aashika walks toward the exhibition gallery where prototype medicines, research milestones, Dr. Aaina Oberoi's legacy, and the subsidiary's vision are displayed with elegant digital grandeur.
Simply because she wants every detail to be flawless tonight.
That's when one of the managers here approaches her. "Ma'am, Mr. Viraj Singhaniya wants to have a word with you regarding the venture." His tone is respectful yet urgent. "He's waiting in the private suite."
Viraj Singhaniya, one of the major investors in this pharmaceutical arm, but to Aashika, the name itself sounds... familiar?
However, ignoring investors in business is never a sane choice, so she just gives a slight nod.
Moments later, she walks into the private suite, only to be met with an unexpected silence.
There's no one around.
The air smells strongly of alcohol.
Aashika's brow creases, her instincts already predicting where this is going.
She senses someone's presence behind her.
And then, the door clicks shut. Followed by the sound of the lock.
She turns, the exact moment a sharp slap cracks across her face, snapping her face to the side.
A bead of blood glistens at the corner of her lips.
She doesn't straighten immediately. Deliberately.
The man before her, Viraj Singhaniya, lets his gaze crawl over her, thick with drunken lust.
He's far too drunk to recognize the danger standing before him.
"Look," he drawls, "From... From a mere employee to-this. Impressive. So much h-hardwork... warming other men's beds."
That's when it hits her. Viraj Singhaniya... the man who had once tried to force her into a one-night stand during the time she lived as Mannat and worked at O.R. Back when no one knew her true identity.
The same man she had almost killed. Almost.
"Well, what... what else are women meant for?" Viraj lets out a drunken laugh, his vision still blurred by intoxication.
"Other than spreading their... legs-" He pauses when Aashika finally meets his gaze, her eyes dark, patient... something monstrous stirring behind them.
The coppery taste of her blood lingers on her tongue.
She slowly tilts her head before spitting that blood onto the floor, never once breaking eye contact.
For a second-just one second-her stare alone unsettles him. Then, he laughs again.
"What?! Hit me with th-those delicate... hands,"
Before he can finish his sentence, a brutal slap slams across his face. He staggers sideways, caught completely off guard.
Aashika drags the back of her hand across her bloodstained lips, watching him, unblinking.
Viraj lifts his head, disbelief flashing across his face. His cheek burns, but his wounded pride burns hotter. A woman had just struck him.
The next moment, he barrels toward her. "YOU MOTHERFUCKING S!UT, I should have dragged you to my bed that same day," He barks, reaching for her hair to yank her downward.
But Aashika's leg lashes out, hitting him in the gut and sending him sprawling with a thud.
Viraj groans, but immediately slams his fist into Aashika's leg, making her stagger in pain.
The next second, with the same leg, she drives a kick straight into his face.
Blood gushes from his nose, his vision blurring as both hands fly up to clutch it.
Aashika takes two steps back, drawing in a slow, heavy breath.
Her eyes fall to the blood on her knuckles. Her fists tighten as she shuts her eyes, a chilling calm settling over her features.
"I didn't want this," she whispers. "Not tonight."
Her gaze returns to viraj, writhing on the marble floor.
And looking at his condition, something disturbingly satisfied crosses her face. "well-"
Slowly, reaching forward, she crouches before him. Her fingers bury themselves in his hair, fisting it brutally as she jerks his face up, forcing him to meet her eyes.
Viraj's trembling lips part, ready to spit another slur. "You whor-"
"Shhh," Aashika hushes, her tone eerily gentle.
"When death stares you in the eye," she says quietly. "Just obey... Hm?"
Just as Viraj tries to raise his hand to strike her, she smashes his face into the floor with ruthless force.
Once.
Twice.
Screams ricochet through the room.
Then... nothing.
Only low, broken groans remain.
Viraj isn't dead. Merely unconscious.
Without another glance, Aashika leaves him where he is.
Rising to her feet, her chest rising and falling ever so slightly, she walks over to the table, picks up a few tissues, and carefully wipes the blood from her lips before cleaning her knuckles.
Because tonight, she can afford anything... except letting Aayansh know what happened within these walls.
As she has no idea what he'd do if he found out. And tonight, during her mother's honoring ceremony, she doesn't want any of that.
P R E S E N T
Her eyes stay fixed on the documents in front of her, pretending to read. Her expression remains cold and sharp, but her mind keeps returning to one thing... Aayansh noticing the blood on her.
And that look on his face afterward.
But for now, she can't afford to let it affect her or distract her from the ceremony.
She shuts her eyes. Breathes. Nothing is going wrong.
T A R A —
I'm so damn jittery.
I glance at Aashika. She's going through some documents, her demeanor effortlessly confident and intimidating. Not that I lack confidence. If this were about music or glamour, I'd be completely in my element. And I am excited. Just not as much as I'm nervous.
Aashika and I are leading the Legacy Address in a while. Asia's most renowned businessmen, medical professionals, and I don't even know how many other influential people will be there. My brother and Aayansh will be there too, of course.
And that's not even the worst part. I just don't want to mess up something Aayansh's mother gave her life to build.
"Tara?" Aashika's voice pulls me from my thoughts. I blink and look up at her. "Yeah?"
She studies my face for a moment. "You're nervous."
I quickly shake my head. "No-uh, yes. But no!"
Her expression softens, a rare smile gracing her lips. "You're adorable," she murmurs. "But relax, you don't have to be so anxious. I'll be right beside you the entire time."
I continue staring at her blankly.
Taking one look at me, she exhales through her nose, calm and patient. "I know you've never stood before this many people, but every first has to happen someday, right?"
"But what if I stutter? Or say something stupid?" I blurt out before I can stop myself.
She rests a hand on my head, her touch reassuring. "Then we'll fix it and move on. Hmm?"
For a moment, I remain silent, my insecurities weighing heavily on me. "But I want to be confident... like you."
"You don't need to be like me or anyone else," she answers, still patient even when I know I'm being annoying. "Just be yourself. That's how we grow into better versions of ourselves."
I nod quietly, but the sound of footsteps behind us draws my attention. Turning around, I find Bro making his way toward us.
The remaining tension in my muscles melts away instantly.
"You both ready?" he asks, glancing between Aashika and me.
Then, his attention shifts to me alone. "Nervous, princess?"
I shake my head. "I was... but Aashika said if I mess something up, we'll fix it and move on."
His eyes briefly shift to Aashika, something gentler crossing his features. Not the softness he reserves for me, but in an entirely different way.
I look from my brother to Aashika, who's finally looking our way, then back at him.
I swear... they fit together so effortlessly.
Only if I could make it happen.
But oh my god! What's wrong with me?
I'm shipping my sister-in-law and my brother in my head... knowing Aayansh would never let me succeed.
Still-the day I find out these two have even the tiniest feelings for each other, it's over. I'm playing cupid.
"Tara?" I turn to Aashika as she gestures toward the main hall. "Meet me there, okay?"
I nod, but before she can leave, Bro stops her. "Aashika?"
The softness she'd shown me moments ago is gone, replaced by her usual composed expression as she peers up at him.
One hand tucked into his pocket, Bro unhurriedly pulls out his handkerchief with the other and holds it out to her. "Your lipstick... it's slightly smudged. Fix it."
Please grab me some popcorn!
Aashika's gaze drops to the handkerchief before lifting back to his face. "It's fine."
"No, it is not," he asserts, his tone gentle but firm. "You'll be in the ballroom. There'll be many eyes on you."
For a moment, Aashika simply looks at him. Then, after the slightest hesitation, she reaches out and takes the handkerchief from him.
Good sister-in-law.
Their eyes stay locked, both sharp, both confident, yet there's something between them that feels inexplicably different.
Slowly, as she lifts his handkerchief to her lips, my brother's gaze drops just a fraction. Aashika, however, doesn't look away.
She lightly dabs at the corner of her lips, wiping away the smudged trace of red.
Then, without a word, she extends it back to him.
But this time, their fingers brush. It's fleeting, barely a touch, yet Aashika instinctively pulls her hand back.
Uh-oh.
My brother also slides his hand back into his pocket. They exchange one last glance, both wearing their usual professional composure again. "Let's go."
The ballroom itself is the epitome of regal grandeur. Tara has attended royal gatherings and the most extravagant galas, but this is an entirely different experience.
A massive mahogany table with a gleaming glass top stretches before them, surrounded by impeccably dressed figures, each carrying themselves with effortless authority.
Aashika and Tara are yet to join in.
Arsh is seated at the opposite centre, his face unreadable, his presence as composed as ever.
Dr. Malang Deewan, Moksh Deewan, and their father, David Deewan, are also present, being among the venture's key figures.
For now, only formal discussions are taking place.
That's when everyone rises as someone enters. One hand tucked into his pocket, his expression cold as usual, Aayansh walks in and the room falls into a respectful silence, everyone turning to greet him.
Arsh, however, doesn't move.
Aayansh's gaze briefly meets Tara's as she joins Aashika, before he settles and leans back into the center armchair, Asher standing silently behind him.
And then, the host's voice echoes through the stillness. "Now, I request Ms. and Mrs. Oberoi to address the legacy we are all going to be a part of."
Tara and Aashika take their respective places at the table, both confident.
"As you all know, my mother, Dr. Aaina Oberoi," Aashika begins, drawing everyone's attention. "She was working on a project... a medical venture built on a vision: to make the most essential and advanced medicines and medical equipment accessible at the most affordable prices for those who cannot afford them. For the people who lose their lives every day because healthcare remains beyond their reach across Asia."
"But fate did not allow her to complete what she had begun."
From her, Aayansh's eyes shift to Tara, noticing the faint tremor in her left hand. She's nervous.
Then, he looks up at her face. Her eyes keep shifting around the room while Aashika speaks.
His stare stays pinned to her, waiting, wanting her to look back at him.
And she does. Their eyes meet, the world around them continues as if nothing has changed.
Tara silently tells him, I can't.
His brow arches, almost imperceptibly. Confusion flashes across Tara's face. What?
And something in his expression hardens, so intense that she forgets to look away... caught in his eyes alone.
For a few seconds, neither of them looks away.
Then, Aayansh's deep voice cuts through the room. "Mrs. Oberoi, you'll get enough time to stare at me. Privately." He tilts his head slightly. "So... start."
Tara's eyes widen, heat rising to her cheeks as she quickly turns her attention to the massive screen before her.
Everyone seated around suddenly stiffens.
A muscle in Arsh's jaw ticks with rage.
The audacity of this man to do that in front of everyone... Tara curses inwardly.
Aashika lowers her eyes, a knowing smirk playing on her lips.
"Of course..." Tara says, her voice steady now. "Ms. Oberoi has already covered the practical side of the project."
"Now... I want you all to hear the visionary behind this dream in her own words."
With that, she taps a button on the digital table, and a video begins playing on the massive screen.
It's Dr. Aaina Oberoi herself, her white coat resting neatly on her shoulders, confidence etched across her serene face.
For a moment, even Aayansh stills, his eyes focused on the screen.
Aashika's fingers slowly curl into her palms as her mother's voice reaches her ears.
The boardroom is utterly silent. Only one voice fills the room. Hers.
"Disease never asks a person's bank balance before taking their life. Then why should the treatment?"
"As a doctor, I hold the oath I've taken above my own life. To me, this project is more than an ambition... it's a responsibility. I want this vision to grow. Because every life matters."
And just like that, the screen goes dark.
"That's an admirable vision," one of the board members says thoughtfully. "But realistically speaking... it's a massive project. Is it even-"
"It is massive. That's why we're here," Tara says. "To make it possible."
A rare sense of pride settles over Aayansh as he watches Tara answer with confidence.
But it vanishes the moment he finds that man's gaze lingering on Tara, even if it's just for a second.
────────────
Aayansh's Private Suite| A Little Later
The legacy address may be over, but the night is far from it. For now, everyone has moved into their private spaces, taking a brief pause before the cocktail reception begins.
Seated in the leather armchair, Aayansh had already gone through the final CCTV recording. His gaze had tracked every step Aashika had taken... every place she'd been... every person she'd crossed paths with.
There had been blood on her. Which meant something had happened behind his back.
The CCTV had already answered one question. Aashika had gone to Viraj Singhaniya's executive suite. But the estate's cameras didn't cover the interiors of that place.
That left only the suite's emergency audio log. The estate's security system automatically preserved recordings whenever it detected signs of distress.
And Aayansh's men had already brought it.
Connecting the Bluetooth earpiece, he leans back, rests his head against the headrest, closes his eyes, and starts the recording.
At first, only footsteps echo in his ears.
His posture never changes. Only his hand moves, closing around the paperweight on the table, idly rolling it between his fingers.
Then comes the sharp crack of a slap.
The paperweight stills beneath Aayansh's thumb.
Then, it begins to roll again. Slowly. Excruciatingly slowly.
A few seconds pass.
Silence.
Aayansh sits exactly as before.
The recording continues.
Then, without warning-
The paperweight leaves his hand.
-slamming directly into the massive screen across the room.
The screen bursts apart beneath the impact, glass skittering across the marble.
Asher stiffens where he stands, his throat suddenly dry.
Aayansh's bloodshot eyes open. He pushes himself to his feet and makes his way toward the glass wall, every vein across his forehead pulled taut.
His eyes close once more, if only for a moment, as his thumb drags slowly over his left brow.
Without turning around, he orders, his voice as cold as a grave.
"Bring that motherfucker-"
A beat.
"Here."
────────────
11:32 PM.
In one of the grand private suites, sits Aashika, going over the remaining details of the venture when her gaze drifts to the leather settee opposite her...
Tara is sprawled like an exhausted panda, her small frame dwarfed by Aayansh's black blazer, absently scrolling through her phone while munching on dark chocolate, the loose end of her saree pooling on the floor.
Then her gaze finds Rivaan, restlessly pacing the room, his jaw taut and his face drawn with frustration as he glares at his phone screen.
Aashika exhales, shaking her head slightly.
Here, scrolling through social media, Tara comes across a post: "A man's ego is usually bigger than his ability to satisfy a woman."
She presses her lips together, stifling a laugh before tapping open the comment section.
There it is-the top comment. "No cock. No opinion."
Tara's eyes narrow in offense.
'But I have one,' she argues silently. 'Well... technically, I do. What's my husband's is mine. Which means his cock is mine too. So, I get an opinion.'
That's when out of nowhere, Rivaan blurts, "Why the hell are these women so goddamn immature?!"
But his mouth snaps shut as both Aashika and Tara shoot him murderous looks.
Sensing the danger, he slowly grins. "I mean... not all women."
"You fought with Kainaat?" Aashika asks calmly.
"No," he answers, walking toward her. "She picked a fight with me. And I've been the one trying to fix things for the past two days. But sometimes, she's just so damn childish."
"Then you're lucky," Tara chimes in, sitting upright. "Women act childish only around the men who feel like home to them."
Rivaan sighs before saying, "That's not the point, Bhabhi. I do everything I can to make it up to her. Even the most embarrassing things. Hell, I even cook for her-"
"So what?" Tara cuts in, fixing him with a glare. "Cooking for your partner is the bare minimum. Aayansh cooked for me too."
Utter disbelief crosses Rivaan's face. "What?!"
Even Aashika looks up, momentarily caught off guard.
"Yes," Tara says confidently, a full blown grin stretching her lips. "Twice! And you know, the first time he cooked was when I cried that I wouldn't eat anything unless he cooks for me."
A faint smirk tugs at Aashika's lips as she murmurs, "So... he just cooked?"
"OF COURSE NOT! HE-" This time, Tara's words die abruptly as the memory of Aayansh eating her in the kitchen while he was cooking for her flashes through her mind. Heat creeps up her cheeks, and she clamps her mouth shut.
"He... what?" Rivaan presses, suspicious.
That jolts Tara out of her unholy thoughts.
"I-I mean... His cooking is disgusting! He only knows one thing in the name of cooking... porridge." She says it quickly, but both Rivaan and Aashika raise a brow at her, knowing she was about to say something else.
"What?" Tara asks innocently, glancing between the two of them. "I'm serious!"
Then she looks straight at Aashika.
"You know, your brother isn't an easy man! I was pregnant and still he-"
Her lips freeze mid-breath, her smile fading as she realizes what she'd just said.
At the mention of pregnancy, something shifts in Aashika's expression as well.
Rivaan's face quietly dims. He already knows about Tara's miscarriage. Aashika, however, knows nothing.
Tara looks away, the light dipping from her face as Aashika asks, "Pregnant?"
Tara says nothing. She silently returns to the settee and sinks into it once again.
Sensing she isn't willing to talk about it, Aashika lifts her gaze to Rivaan, a clear question in her eyes.
A strange sadness settles over Rivaan's face. "Bhabhi had a miscarriage ten months ago," He says softly, not looking at Aashika. "It was a twin pregnancy. I don't know much... but please don't bring it up with her."
Aashika's eyes find Tara once again. There is no pity in them-There never could be-And Tara wouldn't want anyone's sympathy anyway.
For a long moment, Aashika stays silent, knowing this isn't something that could ever be shrugged off so easily.
Beside her, Rivaan walks away without another word.
Then finally, Aashika rises and walks over and quietly settles beside Tara.
"Hey... where's the girl who was flashing all her teeth just a few moments ago?" she asks gently.
Tara lets out a slow breath, forcing her emotions back under control before looking up at Aashika.
She still says nothing.
Aashika's gaze softens, just slightly.
"Honestly, I don't know how to comfort anyone," she admits.
"I don't need to be comforted," Tara replies, leaving no room for argument.
That earns a small smile from Aashika.
"So you're stronger than you know."
"So are you!" Tara responds.
Aashika stills again, her gaze lingering on Tara as though she were looking at the innocence she herself had once been.
"Well, yes," she murmurs, almost to herself.
After taking her time, Tara finally speaks.
"There are things in life you can never truly prepare yourself for," she says quietly. "So when all that happened, I was lost for I don't even know how long."
Aashika doesn't interrupt, knowing this is the first time Tara has opened up to her like this.
Tara's fingers subconsciously tighten around the fabric of Aayansh's blazer, seeking his lingering warmth as she stares blankly ahead.
"You know... only two things in my life have truly broken me. Losing my babies is the second." She adds. "The first is... marrying your brother."
Aashika's brow creases.
Seeing her expression, Tara lets out a slow breath. "I meant... the way he married me."
"I wanted my father and brother by my side when I got married... With their blessings. But none of that happened. I was manipulated against my... my own brother." She trails off, her eyes unfocused. "In the end... I betrayed both him and myself."
Aashika lets the anticipation settle between them before asking, "So... Marrying Aayansh is a regret for you?"
"No," Tara says, holding Aashika's gaze this time. "But the way it happened... That is."
Neither of them speaks again. Aashika has questions, but she lets them rest. Tara, meanwhile, is still lost somewhere in the past.
And, sensing her heaviness, Aashika smoothly redirects the attention.
"Well..." she asks, a hint of curiosity in her voice. "How did you two first meet?"
Tara leans back with a soft sigh and shuts her eyes, trying to hide her hesitation. How is she supposed to tell her that the first chapter of their story had begun with a tragedy?
"I can't tell you," she mutters, sinking deeper into the leather, her nose wrinkling.
Aashika cocks a brow.
"I mean... if I told you all that," Tara continues, completely serious, "you'd be like, 'WHAT THE FUCK?'"
"You'll be traumatized. Trust me."
Aashika reaches for the coffee pot, calmly pouring herself black coffee. "Try me."
Tara peeks at her through one half-open eye, then lets out a long, thoughtful inhale before finally speaking.
"That was the first time I'd come to India. I was at a party with my friends when some bitch of a bastard mixed something like-like viagra... into my drink."
"And in that condition, I ended up in Aayansh's room... someone I didn't even know. I'd just heard his name from my brother a few times."
"I was obviously not in my senses."
"And had a one night stand with him."
The cup pauses halfway to Aashika's lips. Then, as though nothing had happened, she takes a casual sip anyway.
"I was on my periods."
Aashika nearly chokes on her coffee, her eyes widening ever so slightly as she looks at Tara.
"See?" Tara shrugs. "I told you. Nothing about us is normal."
"Of course," Aashika murmurs to herself, genuinely horrified.
"But that was only the first time I met him. He'd already met me long before that... when I was just nineteen."
This time, Aashika doesn't dare ask another question. She simply lets Tara continue her wonderfully nonsensical story.
────────────
12:07 AM.
As the formal ceremony comes to a close, the night flows into an elegant cocktail reception, where guests mingle in conversations beneath crystal chandeliers with champagne in hand.
The grandeur of the evening is softened by warm lights, intoxicating music, and understated luxury.
Then, slowly... almost sinfully, the lights begin to dim. Until only a chosen few remain beneath their glow.
And almost every eye in the massive ballroom is drawn to the figure who enters with unhurried grace.
Aashika Oberoi.
No longer in tailored formals, she's now dolled up in a cherry-red saree hugging all her curves just right, its borders tracing her figure to perfection, paired with a sleeveless blouse, while kohl-darkened eyes, cherry-red lips, and freely falling shoulder-length hair make her look every bit as lethal as she is beautiful.
Tara, equally graceful in a maroon saree, is at her side, her gaze lingering on every unfamiliar face and opulent corner.
"This is so boring," she mutters under her breath, as there's nothing here to catch her interest.
As they move ahead, a few business associates pause to greet them, but it's Aashika who effortlessly commands their admiration.
Amidst it all, a pair of eyes stays locked on Aashika in quiet reverence. Moksh Deewan.
After a moment's hesitation, he finally makes his way toward her, a glass of red wine cradled in his hand.
"Hey, Ms. Oberoi," he says, his voice low and gentle. "You look... different tonight. I mean, not intimidating like you usually do. Just... delicate."
The corner of Aashika's lips curls almost imperceptibly... not at the compliment itself, but at the word delicate.
"Well, a woman can be both delicate and destructive in the same breath," she whispers, her voice dipped in sin. "But sometimes, she simply chooses which version she's willing to let you witness."
"Right... and you-" he starts, only to be interrupted.
"Ms. Oberoi?!"
Tara turns toward the voice, her nose wrinkling almost instantly. The very same self-obsessed bitch she'd encountered before-Malang Deewan.
Aashika, however, doesn't spare him a glance.
"You're here... thought you'd be looking for a handsome as fuck man's company?"
This time, she turns and glowers at him, keeping her expression completely devoid of emotion as he adds. "... For dance."
"But where is that 'handsome as fuck' man?" She asks, slowly looking him up and down. "Because all I can see in front of me is a clingy asshole. With zero self respect."
Malang's brow lifts in amusement. "Rude. Temptingly rude."
Then he cocks his head, a smug grin spreading across his face."Well, I know controlling yourself around me is difficult for you. That's fine."
Tara's expression sours instantly.
Moksh, meanwhile, looks utterly confused.
Aashika stays silent for a few beats, her eyes turning glacial, before she leans a little closer and warns in a low, dark tone. "Stay-The Fuck-Away from me. Boy."
The reaction on his face is instant.
Aashika ignores it.
"Boy?!" Malang scowls, "Excuse me, that wasn't acceptable. I'm 27. And a cardiologist, you can't..."
"Fake degrees are getting easier to obtain these days, no?" Tara says, without so much as sparing him a glance.
But Aashika has absolutely no tolerance for this eighth wonder of a man.
As she glares at him, his mouth clicks shut.
Yet, he doesn't look scared... but thrilled.
Aashika moves closer. And closer. Until he's nearly backed against the furniture behind him.
Tension saturates the air.
"And I'm 33," she whispers, her gaze turning predatory as she stops just short of touching him.
"And a mafiosá.. You have no idea what I do with people like you."
Tara quickly steps ahead to hear their conversation.
Here, Aashika leans in further, and he leans back, the furniture behind him leaving him nowhere else to go.
"What happened, scared?"
He blinks up at her, then-
"I know. I know you want someone here to catch us in a compromising position."
A long pause follows as she tries to locate the logic behind that statement of his.
"I know your brother Mr. Aayansh Oberoi is here too. You want him to he catch us like this."
The mention of Aayansh makes her jaw tighten.
"Do not go to my brother. If he sees you anywhere near me, he'll break you into so many pieces... no one will ever know you existed."
That did it.
For the first time since she has met him, uncertainty flickers across his face.
But then-
"Woah! He sounds interesting."
Aashika's brain almost short-circuits. Almost.
But she doesn't let it come on her face.
As Malang tries to straighten, his fingers accidentally brush against hers. His expression immediately falls. "Fuck. I'm sorry," he says, his tone unexpectedly serious. "I didn't mean to touch you."
She stares at him in silence for a few seconds, then turn and walk away, offering him neither a response nor a glance back.
Tara gives Malang an unimpressed look before turning on her heel.
Meanwhile, Moksh walks over to Malang, his expression turning serious.
"What is going on?"
────────────
(Sensitive part-skip if you're uncomfortable)
Above, the party is in full swing. Beneath it all, in the estate's private basement, the air is deathly silent... and cold.
On the floor, Viraj lies in the worst condition imaginable, barely conscious, animalistic sounds spilling from his lips. His face is shoved into the bowl before him, grotesque chewing sounds filling the silence as blood trickles from the corners of his mouth.
Seated across from him, Aayansh watches it all with chilling indifference. His blood-red eyes remain locked on Viraj, emotionless, unblinking, silently taking in every broken groan that escapes him.
Still, it isn't enough.
His bloodstained, calloused fingers rest against the armrest, his posture relaxed.
He hasn't done much to Viraj.
Other than cutting his tongue with his own hands.
And right now, from the bowl, Viraj is chewing his tongue that insulted Aashika, along with the flesh of the hand he used to hit her.
Beyond that, Aayansh hasn't even touched him.
He leans back in his chair, rests his head against the headrest, closes his eyes, and orders in his usual tone, "Get me a cigar."
Asher, standing silently at a distance with his head bowed, immediately moves to fetch it.
Writhing, crying, and thrashing, Viraj keeps his face buried in the bowl, clinging to the desperate hope that once this is over... Aayansh will leave him alive.
Here, in the party hall, Aashika's phone pings. Pulling it out, she glances at the screen... and her lips part in disbelief.
She lets her gaze wander around once.
Everything and everyone, appears perfectly normal. The atmosphere is at its liveliest.
"No." The single word falls from her lips before she turns on her heel, walking away with hurried steps.
Within minutes, she's into the same private basement, her footsteps reverberating through the silence.
Her eyes immediately find Aayansh, seated on his chair like a king, a burning cigar resting between his fingers. He exhales a slow plume of smoke into the air, never once looking at Aashika despite knowing she'd entered. His dark gaze remains fixed on Viraj.
Aashika freezes, her eyes shifting to Viraj. At what's left of him. At the blood. At the tiny pieces of flesh strewn across the floor.
She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath. This was what she'd hoped to avoid tonight.
Then she looks back at Aayansh, her gaze patient... dangerous. "He was drunk. There was no need to drag it this far."
"Let him go."
Aayansh casually flicks the spent cigar aside.
This time, he slowly tilts his head toward Aashika.
"You want me to end this?" There isn't the slightest hint of anger in his voice. Only a terrifying willingness to continue.
Aashika's fists tighten, knowing if aayansh continues, it'll end in something far uglier.
There's no moment to hesitate.
The next second, she takes the gun from Asher's hand and steps forward. Without hesitation, she fires four consecutive shots into Viraj's chest, forehead, and mouth.
Ending him right here.
The silence that follows is heavier than the gunshots themselves.
Aashika's eyes stay on Viraj, her expression completely empty.
With a handkerchief, Aayansh is already wiping the blood from his fingers with unsettling calm.
Asher gulps, a bead of cold sweat sliding down his forehead.
Tossing the crimson-stained handkerchief aside, Aayansh rises and unhurriedly walks toward Aashika, whose gaze is still locked on Viraj.
With two fingers beneath her chin, Aayansh turns her face toward him, leaving her no choice but to meet his gaze.
She doesn't waver.
"Next time," Aayansh says quietly. "No one's hands should get on you."
Aashika blinks once. Even she has no reply to that.
Meanwhile, Aayansh walks away as though nothing had happened.
────────────
Back in the reception...
Though Aashika has returned, a part of her is still stuck in that basement.
She gives her head a small shake, forcing those thoughts aside for now. Only then does she realize she'd left Tara near the cocktail corner.
And now, she's nowhere to be seen.
She must be around here somewhere-Aashika thinks.
But then, for a second-just one second-the memory of Viraj's suite resurfaces, and the possibility of something similar happening to Tara freezes her in place.
It stops her cold.
A second later, she sets off, her pace controlled as her gaze sweeps across the ballroom to look for tara.
And just as she's about to move faster, someone takes hold of her hand from behind.
She glances over her shoulder, and the hardness in her features melts away.
"Where did you disappear to?" Tara asks, letting go of her hand. "Bro and Aayansh are nowhere to be seen either. Am I the only one who's expected to be here?"
Before Aashika can respond, the ballroom sinks into a gentle darkness, with only a few spotlights remaining as the melodic notes of a Viennese Waltz fill the air.
One by one, a few couples join the dance, and the atmosphere softens into something almost dangerously intimate.
While Aashika stays completely indifferent, Tara's face lights up, not at the music or the dance, but at the sight of Arsh approaching them.
His timing couldn't have been better.
Arsh reaches them, asking, "Have you both had dinner?"
Ignoring his question, Tara glances toward the couples moving gracefully to the Viennese Waltz. "Why don't you two join them?"
Both Arsh and Aashika exchange a look, visibly caught off guard.
Sensing their hesitation, Tara looks up at Arsh with puppy eyes. "Please," she whines.
Arsh lets out a slow breath, unsure what to say.
"I don't dance," Aashika says flatly, leaving no room for argument.
"I'm not asking you to dance all night," Tara hisses. "Just two minutes."
After a brief pause, Aashika begins, "I said-"
"Pleeease!" Tara interrupts instantly.
Aashika sighs, finally giving in.
Arsh looks between the two women, knowing the decision has already been made for him.
Then, without looking at her, he steps aside and gestures for Aashika to go ahead of him.
The melody fills the ballroom, soft notes weaving through the air as they begin to move.
Arsh extends his hand toward her. Without a word, Aashika places hers in his.
Tumhe dil nisaar karte, tumhe jaan nisaar karte...
Tum pyaar karne dete, toh tumhe kitna pyaar karte
He draws her a little closer, still leaving a respectful distance between them. His free hand hovers just above the curve of her waist, deliberately refraining from touching her.
While the ballroom whirls around them, they move with calm, effortless grace.
Ek baar karne dete, toh tumhe kitna pyaar karte?
"Well... sorry about Tara's stubbornness," Arsh says softly, guiding her movements.
Aashika finally lifts her gaze.
"She's not used to hearing no."
"What if someday she asks you to marry me?" Aashika asks sarcastically. "Would your answer be the same?"
Arsh twirls her effortlessly. "Don't worry. That day will never come."
Aashika rolls her eyes at his confidence.
Meanwhile, Tara keeps watching them, her face glowing with a happiness she can barely contain.
But then she sees Malang-dancing with another woman, while watching Aashika instead-and her expression immediately falls.
As the couples change partners, Arsh's hand slips away from hers. Before she can step back, another hand is extended toward her.
And now, she's face-to-face with Malang.
Their eyes meet.
Aashika's expression stays cold as ice, while Malang looks at her with his usual smugness... softened by a strange yearning he cannot hide.
She takes a step away when he says, "Please?"
With so many eyes around them, Aashika cannot create a scene. So reluctantly, she places her hand in his.
Malang steps closer, swaying her gently to the music, while making sure not to touch her anywhere beyond their joined hands.
Around them, the other couples move with effortless speed, their steps flowing faster with the music.
As he keeps staring at her-only her-Aashika finally snaps. "Stop staring at me!"
"Can't help it,"
Tumhare saare mausam, haan ham bahaar karte
Tum pyaar karne dete, toh tumhe kitna pyaar karte...
Aashika's jaw flexes. "You look like a fucked-up man, you know."
"Maybe," He whispers. "I am the most fucked-up man you'll ever meet."
Aashika's brows rise, a rare hint of surprise crossing her face. Yet, she says nothing.
Malang turns her gently, letting her back settle against his chest just for a moment. Then, in a quiet voice, he murmurs. "Your pulse is faster than normal... am I the reason?"
Ek baar karne dete, toh tumhe kitna pyaar karte? (X3)
"If your pulse stops right now," she replies calmly, "how about I'm the reason?"
His movements stop for a moment before he leans slightly closer to her ear.
"Why are you so violent, hmm?" he asks.
────────────
T A R A —
I don't know if sharing all of that with Aashika was the right thing to do. All I know is that I couldn't hold myself back at that moment. I don't usually let my emotions spill in front of others unless I'm comfortable with them.
So maybe... she's earned that place in my life.
Well, after seeing that self-obsessed bitch (Malang) dancing with her, staying there was officially out of the question.
And besides, I'm already on my way to the sky deck after getting a text from Bro.
It was, "Come to the sky deck, Princess." Nothing else.
Weird.
Sometimes he behaves like Aayansh.
But whatsoever, I'm in no mood to leave this place anytime soon. It's already past midnight, yet every moment of this night is still alive in my mind... the way Aayansh distracted me back there, the Viennese Waltz, those little moments... everything.
There's a saying 'When everything starts going too well, be cautious.' So... I'm just a little uneasy?
And the way my brother suddenly called me like that... I don't have a good feeling about it.
He's your brother. Your very first safe place. Stop fucking overthinking, I remind myself.
The whole area is deathly silent. My footsteps reverberate through the emptiness, but I don't so much as flinch.
Moments later, I'm finally there.
But there's no one here. Only the cool wind whispering through the void.
Why did he call me here if he isn't even here?
Just when I'm about to lose my shit, I hear a soft voice behind me.
"Princess?"
Relief washes over me.
I whirl around to face him. My brother. He's already making his way toward me, his expression as composed as ever.
"Why did you call me here?"
"Thought to spend some time with my sister before leaving,"
Something inside my chest instantly sinks. "You're leaving...?"
This time, he doesn't say a word. He simply holds my gaze for a beat before a small, weary smile tugs at his lips.
Then, he draws his hand from his pocket and gently rests it against my cheek. "Did you enjoy the soirée?"
I nod. "Yeah. It was for Aayansh's mom, so-of course I did."
"You have a life of your own," Bro says firmly. "Not everything has to revolve around him and his people."
I don't know why, but uncertainty grips me. For the first time, I'm hesitating before him.
"I know! And I'm very clear about my life and the choices I've made!"
"Good,"
"So," He begins softly, as if choosing his words with care. "It's been almost a year since you married?"
Oh. I'd almost forgotten. Our first anniversary is just seven days away.
"I-Yes," I answer, my brain slow to catch up with the randomness of his question.
Anticipation settles heavily in my veins. Deep down, I already know where this is leading.
"You know I don't like twisting my words," He says, I don't interrupt.
Not yet.
"I've never tried to control your life, princess. Not even when you made the stupidest decisions."
'Stupidest decisions of my life'-My marriage with Aayansh.
I knew someday, I'll have to face him with the guilt of that.
But tonight?
I knew what Bro had witnessed that day-Aayansh drenched in blood, standing amidst the bodies of his own father, grandfather, his family. No one who had seen that nightmare up close could ever erase it from their memory.
Especially because he involved me in it. I knew my brother would never accept that.
Things have always been complicated between us, but this... He's not wrong for being concerned about me.
And I'm not wrong for standing by my love, even when it haunted every part of me.
My fingers curl slightly into my palms, clinging to my composure until I can't anymore.
"And I'm still not doing that," he continues. Not once does his voice harden.
"I know why you're bringing this suddenly," I cut in with a firm voice.
"The way all that happened was wrong. My marriage wasn't."
"I know what you witnessed in Rome made you question everything between Aayansh and me."
I take his hand in mine, silently seeking the comfort I've always found in him.
"Trust me, for a moment, even I thought I'd never go back to him after seeing him like that. But I also knew I loved him... so deeply that there was never any going back."
"So I chose to stand by him... exactly as he was."
Every word I speak comes straight from my soul. And If I had to live through that nightmare all over again, I'd still choose him.
That isn't sane. I know.
But love doesn't always have to be sane.
A R S H J I N D A L
The moment I mentioned her marriage, guilt flashed across Tara's face. That was the last thing I intended.
I never wanted her to feel that way. Never wanted to be the reason guilt and pain found their way into her eyes.
Yet this time, it's about her future, and I don't have the luxury of being anything but firm.
Well, the way she's trying to justify everything without me even asking... says a lot.
Her marriage... the choice she made when she picked that life over trusting me. Though, I was at fault too. We raised her too protected, too untouched by the ugliness of the world, she never learned that people outside don't love gently.
She was immature enough to make that impulsive choice, and I was helpless enough to bow before it.
So it's high time for me to fix what I allowed to happen.
After witnessing everything with my own eyes-the brutality, the bloodshed, the way my sister still stood by the man who keeps dragging her into his darkness... hell would freeze over before I still let her stay with him.
Besides, he's done countless unforgivable things.
Tara is still too immature, too blinded by her feelings to see the toxicity I see so clearly. And no matter how I look at it, I can't find this ending well.
I want her to live and grow peacefully, not be thrown into a world of violence she was never meant for.
I rest my hand on her head, grounding her. "You don't have to explain things to me, princess."
Her face relaxes, just a little.
"I know you're worried about me," she adds anyway. "But trust me, Aayansh has changed. Maybe not for the world, but for me. He cares about what I feel, what I want, he stays patient with me."
I cannot help but stare at her, torn between frustration and helplessness.
She thinks men like him change.
For anyone.
I believe others can. But not Aayansh Oberoi.
Never him.
Some monsters don't become men.
"You know, in Rome, when he left me alone among his enemies," Tara's voice pulls my attention back. "Even I doubted him for a moment. But you saw it yourself... I didn't get a single scratch, even in the middle of all that bloodshed."
"Aayansh is not perfect, he-he's so brutal. I know. But he's mine, that's enough for me to love him with everything... And love is not changing the path even when your own feelings start haunting you. Right."
Her answer comes as no surprise to me.
A heavy smile tugs at my lips at her innocence. "Hmm, I trust you."
But not your choices. And definitely not the man you call your husband.
"As you should!" She beams at me.
I let a few moments pass, allowing the stillness around us to settle.
"It's your birthday in four days," My tone turns severe this time.
Her eyes brighten. "You remember!"
Of course.
"You're a crowned princess, Tara. And you know that your birthday is never merely personal for families like ours. Last time, many things went wrong."
Her brows lift, knowing I'm referring to the day she was kidnapped on this very date last year.
The day everything fell apart. All because of one man.
"Now It's about tradition. About our reputation." My voice lowers-not hard, but carefully measured.
"I'm returning to New York tomorrow morning."
One slow exhale. Patient. Firm.
"And I want you to come back with me."
She doesn't flinch. "Of course, I will. HOW WILL YOU CELEBRATE MY BIRTHDAY WITHOUT ME? Just let me talk to aayansh about-"
"There's no need for that," I interrupt before she can finish.
That alone stirs countless questions in her gaze... questions I'm not ready to answer. Yet.
She thinks her birthday is the reason I'm asking her to come back. Good.
"Why?" Her eyes narrow ever so slightly.
Because you're never returning to him. After this.
────────────
Past midnight-
For tonight, everyone is staying at this estate.
In one of the grand master bedrooms, Tara sits in the corner of the balcony, her knees drawn to her chest.
She's still in the same saree... lost in her own thoughts.
No matter what the circumstances had been, by choosing Aayansh again and again, she'd hurt the two most precious men in her life... her father and her brother. And that guilt is something she knows she would carry forever.
And now, she's caught in the middle.
She thinks she's returning to New York tomorrow morning just for her birthday. Where Arsh has made it clear that he doesn't want her discussing any of this with Aayansh.
That's probably only the second thing he's ever asked of her.
She knows Aayansh will obviously find out when she leaves. But not telling him herself... that would feel like breaking his trust.
And if she says anything to him, it would be disrespecting her own brother.
She has done that once.
That lesson was enough.
Funny how things seem simple from a distance, but up close, they're far more fucked up.
Well, she's so lost in her thoughts that it takes her a moment to notice his heavy gaze. She sneaks a sideways glance at him, then quickly looks ahead again, pretending she hasn't looked at all.
Aayansh is leaning against the wall, watching her, his hair tousled, still in the same clothes as he was before.
But why isn't he coming closer? Usually, by now, he'd have already picked her up and tossed her onto the bed... Tara wonders to herself.
A while passes like that.
Tara doesn't move. Aayansh keeps his eyes on her, his gaze intense and unreadable. Only he knows what's going on in his mind.
And then, with a huff, she herself stands, walks over, and nestles into his chest.
Aayansh's arm comes around her waist, lifting her slightly and tugging her closer. She quickly places her feet over his.
The soft glow of the moon envelops them.
They don't say anything. They just hold on to each other, finding the kind of comfort that nothing can offer.
Moments later, Tara sits on the bed, dressed in his oversized black T-shirt.
Aayansh steps out of the washroom, now wearing only black trousers, his upper body bare, water droplets glistening against his skin.
He sits on the sofa, tosses the towel on the table and leans back, "Come here, amour," he says.
Tara stands, her crocs still on, and slowly walks toward him before settling onto his lap.
Her mind, however, is still tangled in everything Arsh had said.
She rests her head on his shoulder and murmurs quietly, "I wanted to say something, but the situation wasn't comfortable, so..."
He lifts her legs and wraps them around his torso, cutting her off. "This is the most comfortable situation. And position, right?" he looks down at her. "say."
Tara hesitates, then finally looks up at him, "Thank you."
A small pause follows. "I know I was nervous... and you distracted me in the boardroom."
For a moment, he just looks into her eyes, knowing this isn't what she truly wanted to say, The tension in her features doesn't go unnoticed either.
His hand is already beneath her T-shirt, caressing the curve of her waist.
"There are many other ways to say that." He leans closer, letting their lips barely brush.
"Beneath me, above me, or right here... like this."
Tara's face flushes. "No! This is better!"
Then she beams, a mischievous spark in her eyes. "Now your turn. Say thank you!"
His lips find her shoulder, lingering there."You know I don't thank in words," he husks.
Her eyes flutter shut, melting into his heat, her mind still conflicted as her hold on his shoulders tightens.
But Aayansh's eyes stays open, fixed on her face. Not softly... but with something far more intense. Something darker.
"You know... whatever you said in the car that time," she admits, her eyes still closed. "It scared me. Why did you do that?"
"Sirf baaton se darogi toh jab sach mein kuch hoga..." His fingers close around her nape, tilting her neck slightly as he kisses her earlobe and murmurs, "Khaufzada ho jaogi."
Her eyes flutter open immediately.
"Kya hoga?"
And for a second-just for a second-her mind goes back to Arsh's words.
What would happen if Aayansh knew?
The thought alone sends a cold shiver through her.
════════════════════════════════════
To be continued~
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