70| Youre never returning to him. #2
"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."
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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.
"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.
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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."
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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.'