70| Youre never returning to him. #4
"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?"
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(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.
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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.
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,"
Aashika's jaw flexes. "You look like a fucked-up man, you know."