CHAPTER 1: Part 1 (PARTY CRASHING)
~ ISHIKA (POV) ~
It was already Saturday morning, and the knot of dread in my stomach was getting tighter by the minute. I really didn't want to go to this party, but I didn't have a choice. It was a good thing no one in my house knew what my girl gang was planning.
I hate lying to my family. I really do. But sometimes, keeping them in the dark is the only way to protect them. If they knew I was going to the Rathore Palace, World War III would break out right here in the dining room.
"Kuch hua hai kya, Sona? (Did something happen, Sona?)" Dadu asked, looking at me with concern over his newspaper.
My family calls me 'Sona' affectionately. Gold. The irony was, right now I felt like a cheap fake. Sitting at the breakfast table, hiding such a massive secret, was making me itch.
"Nahi, kyu? Aap toh theek hai na Dadu? (No, why? You are alright, right Dadu?)" I deflected quickly.
His health hadn't been good these days, but he was a stubborn old man. He never listened to the doctors, following his own rigid routine so diligently that we always knew exactly where he would be at any given minute.
"I can see clearly on your face that you are up to something," he said, ignoring my question entirely. His eyes narrowed slightly. "Everything is alright, right?"
I would love to tell you, Dadu. But ignorance is bliss.
"Everything is perfectly fine!" I lied through my teeth, flashing him a 1000-watt smile that I hoped looked genuine.
Before he could interrogate me further, a squeal broke the tension.
"OOho look! Aarav has made such a mess of everything!" I gushed, seizing the distraction.
Dadu shook his head, a small smile appearing on his face. I tell you, my nephew Aarav is the most amazing kid in the whole world. He is a genius—and I'm not just being one of those blinded aunts. Okay, maybe I am blindly in love with him, so what?
Picking up a napkin, I wiped the food from his chubby face and lifted him out of his high chair.
"Puii haa!" he squealed, showing me his food-covered fingers and giggling uncontrollably.
I laughed, cleaning his little hands. "Aaru, my Aaru is so cute." I kissed both his chubby cheeks.
"Myy Puii is cutti," he lisped back.
"Usse chhod aur breakfast khatam kar pehle (Put him down and finish your breakfast first)," Chachi Sa scolded gently, walking out of the kitchen. "We all know you both are inseparable, but at least eat something."
Chachi Sa is the sweetest woman alive. She loves me like her own daughter. It's ironic—Mumma and Baba had three of us (Me, Piya, and Rudransh), but Chacha and Chachi only have one son, Karan Bhai Sa. That probably explains why she mothers all of us so fiercely.
"Ji Chachi Sa (Okay Aunt)," I said obediently, sitting back down but keeping Aaru in my lap to feed him.
Piya had already left for her early morning extra lecture, and Rudransh was at school. Baba Sa, Chacha Sa, and Karan Bhai Sa had already left for work.
"Tujhe yaad hai na kal gaon jana hai? Pooja ke liye. (You remember we have to go to the village tomorrow? For the worship?)" Mumma asked, coming out of the kitchen with a basket of fresh rotis.
She is the most beautiful lady I know, aging with such grace.
"Haan, Mumma yaad hai. Kal Sunday hai, koi problem nahi hogi jane mein. (Yes, Mumma I remember. Tomorrow is Sunday so there won't be a problem.)"
I checked the time. If I didn't leave now, I'd lose my nerve.
"Main chalti hu ab, bohot time ho gaya hai (I'll get going, so much time has passed)," I announced, standing up. "I'll be late coming home today... there's a party at the office."
The lie tasted like ash on my tongue. I put Aarav in his playpen and turned to leave.
"Alright," Dadu said, buying it. Thank God.
"Ishuu! Ye lete ja, halwa hai (Ishuu! Take this with you, it's halwa)," Bhabhi called out, rushing over with a tiffin box.
Gajar ka halwa. My comfort food. I smiled, genuine this time.
"Thank you, Bhabhi." I hugged her tight before walking out the door, praying this night wouldn't be a disaster.
~ MRITYUNJAY (POV) ~
It was 9:00 AM sharp.
I descended the grand staircase, fastening my cufflinks. The sprawling haveli was a chaotic buzz of activity—decorators running with marigold garlands, staff shouting orders—everyone frantic over the arrangements for Janvi's birthday party tonight.
But the moment my foot hit the floor of the dining room, the world stopped.
The noise didn't just fade; it was severed.
A heavy, suffocating silence slammed into the room. The air grew thin. Even the clinking of silverware ceased instantly. I walked past the rows of relatives—past my father Abhijeet, past Janvi—my footsteps the only sound echoing on the marble.
I took my seat at the other head of the table, directly opposite Bade Rana Sa. Two kings, one fading, one reigning.
The staff silently placed my black coffee in front of me, their hands trembling visibly. They knew better than to make a sound.
"Mrityunjay, aaj party mein jaldi aana hai aapko. (Mrityunjay, you have to come early to the party today,)" Bade Rana Sa said, his eyes locked on mine across the expanse of the table.
"Hamare kuch khaas dost aur unki beti aa rahe hai aap se milne. (Some special friends of ours and their daughter are coming to meet you.)"
Another matchmaking attempt.
I met his gaze. My expression didn't shift. I didn't sigh, I didn't roll my eyes. I simply existed in a state of cold indifference.
"I'll be there," I said, my voice low and final.
I didn't have the patience to entertain a debate. If I said I would be there, I would be there. Consequences could be dealt with later.
The cousins, sensing the immediate danger had passed, dared to breathe again.
" Aaj toh lagta hai bhai ka mood thik nahi hai (It seems brother is not in a good mood today)," Tejas whispered to Janvi, barely moving his lips, terror lacing his amusement.
" Achcha hota kab hai? (When is it ever good?)" she replied, a nervous chuckle escaping her.
"Point," Vivan chimed in, keeping his head down.
" Aap log chup ho jaaiye, isse pehle ki Hitler sunle. (You guys please shut up before Hitler hears us,)" Avni, the *chutki* of the group, hissed, her eyes darting toward my end of the table with genuine fear.
" Hitler koun hai? (Who is Hitler?)" asked Revan, blinking innocently.
Avni's eyes went wide. She immediately slapped her hand over his mouth, glaring at him in panic, praying I hadn't heard.
*RING RING.*
The sharp ring of my phone sliced through the room like a gunshot. Avni froze. I picked it up instantly.
"Speak."
"Hukum, there was a fire in the warehouse," Chirag Prasad, my security chief, spoke. "It's under control now and we have the culprit in custody. What are we to do with him?"
"Get the name of his boss," I commanded. My voice was soft, but it carried a lethal edge. "Do whatever is necessary. I only want the name."
I cut the call. The silence at the table was now deafening. The implication of violence hung heavy in the air.
"You should keep the work out of the house," Abhijeet complained from the side. His voice trembled, a weak attempt to sound authoritative. "It creates a bad atmosphere."
I slowly turned my head.
I didn't speak. I didn't blink. I just looked at him.
I looked at the man responsible for my exile, the "good for nothing" father who had forced me to claw my way out of hell while he lived in luxury.
The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. Abhijeet shifted in his seat, his bravado crumbling to dust under my dead stare.
He tried to glare back, to find a spine he never had, but he was drowning in the darkness of my eyes.
"Stop this right this second," Bade Rana Sa warned from the other end, his voice sharp, sensing the violence radiating off me.
Abhijeet immediately lowered his eyes to his plate, shrinking away like a beaten dog.
I wiped my mouth with the napkin, threw it on the table, and stood up to my full height.
Without a single word, I turned and walked out, leaving the suffocating silence behind me.
To Be Continued...