When the World Watched
The engagement venue glittered like a dream.
Crystal chandeliers.
White and gold roses.
Media vans lining the street.
Mumbai had arrived.
Najma stepped out of the car beside Ranveer, emerald silk draped flawlessly around her.
Cameras flashed instantly.
"Ranveer! Look here!"
"Mrs. Sign-to-be!"
Ranveer's hand tightened around Najma's waist—not possessive, but protective.
"Breathe," he murmured. "I've got you."
She glanced up. "I'm not afraid."
He smiled faintly. "That's what scares me."
Inside, Twinkle stood beside Rangeer, dressed in soft pink.
"You look uncomfortable," she whispered.
"I hate crowds," he muttered. "And I hate cameras."
She grinned. "You chose the wrong profession."
He leaned closer. "I chose you."
She froze.
Then elbowed him lightly. "Don't say things like that in public."
His smile softened. "Then say it back in private."
The ceremony began.
Rings exchanged.
Blessings given.
Applause thundered.
Najma bowed respectfully to Grandma Krishi.
Ranveer slipped the ring onto her finger.
For a moment, the world held its breath.
She met his gaze.
Steady. Certain.
Across the hall, Rangeer noticed a woman watching them.
Too still.
Too focused.
Her eyes locked on Ranveer.
"Twinkle," he murmured. "Do you see her?"
Twinkle followed his gaze.
Rachel Parulkar smiled slowly.
And waved.
Twinkle's smile faded.
"I don't like her," she whispered.
Rangeer's jaw tightened. "Neither do I."
Najma felt it then.
That familiar chill crawling up her spine.
She turned.
Met Rachel's eyes.
Recognition sparked.
Not fear.
War.