Chapter 20
The lights inside the Excelsior suite had been dimmed to a honeyed glow. Outside, the city lights blinked in a blur beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. Siya stood in front of the full-length mirror of the vanity, applying a final touch-up.
The bodycon gown of a deep, decadent sapphire blue hugged her curves like it had been poured onto her body. The sculpted bodice traced the line of her collarbones, cinched waist studded with black glittering beads, before flowing down into a pool of satin around her heels.
Two stubborn curls had escaped from her twisted updo and framed her face. Her makeup was minimal, just the way she liked it, with just a hint of warmth on her cheeks, only a ruby sheen on her lips, and her eyes framed in kohl-lined precision.
She inhaled slowly, pressing her fingertips against the engraved wooden border to steady herself, then met her brown eyes and exhaled. She was ready to face the cameras.
Her phone buzzed once with a message from Abhay saying he was on his way up to her hotel room, and just like that, all the nerves she’d painstakingly gathered scattered into pieces.
A soft knock came at the door, and her pulse picked up pace.
To prepare for the event, Siya had stayed at the hotel for the last two days. She hadn’t seen him in forty-eight hours and it had been harder than she cared to admit.
She opened the door and found him waiting there with a bouquet of orchids. His gaze moved over her slowly, like he was committing every detail to memory.
Siya took that time to study him, because there was no way to resist his allure.
Abhay wore a dark navy tuxedo with the faintest sheen, the jacket fitted to his frame with tailored precision.
The collar of his crisp white shirt peeked out from underneath the lapel.
His bow tie was perfectly knotted, and the faintest shadow of stubble lined his jaw.
But what struck her speechless were his cufflinks.
Their initials “A” and “S” were studded with little diamonds on the onyx black matte surface.
Abhay let out a breath and said, ‘You don’t play fair.’
Siya dragged her gaze from their initials and asked, ‘What?’
He stepped in, letting the door swing shut behind him. He crossed the small distance between them and grazed his thumb along her jawline. He said, low and husky, ‘That dress is going to ruin me.’
‘Bit dramatic, don’t you think?’ she managed to ask.
His eyes didn’t leave hers as he reached out, his fingers brushing her cheek as he tucked one loose curl gently behind her ear. ‘You underestimate your effect on me, jaan. Seeing you like this and not ripping that dress off with my teeth is torture.’
Her throat dried up as she imagined him doing just that. She swallowed, not trusting herself to speak. Her heart thundered in a way that had nothing to do with nerves and everything to do with the way he was looking at her.
‘If you keep looking at me like that,’ he said, eyes flicking over her lips briefly, ‘I’m going to lose the battle inside my head and slam you against the nearest surface and kiss you until you forget your name.’
A flush rose beneath her skin. She cleared her throat and spoke casually. ‘You don’t look too shabby yourself.’
‘Ma’am, have mercy on me and give me a chance to emotionally prepare myself before you shower me with such lavish praises.’
She shook her head, laughing under her breath and his smile deepened as he took it in.
‘Shall we go impress the elites of this country?’ Abhay asked, offering his arm and a charming smile.
Siya slid her hand into the crook of his arm, her palm resting against the firm line of his bicep, and nodded.
The elevator ride down felt longer than it was because he kept his eyes trained on her.
‘You’re staring.’
‘Yes, and I can never get enough of it.’
‘Are you planning to flirt all the way down to the ballroom?’
‘Absolutely. I have a very limited window to use my best material before you’re surrounded by celebrities and admirers.’
Her laugh echoed as they stepped out and began descending the sweeping marble staircase. The air was rich with the scent of fresh lilacs and pale roses. As they turned around the corner and came into the view, the photographers began shouting to get their attention.
‘Siya, Abhay, look this way!’ one of the men yelled as he held up his camera.
Their cameras clicked in fervent hunger as Abhay lifted her hand and guided her onto the red carpet set outside the ornate, massive doors of the Reminiscence Ballroom.
After their pictures, Abhay opened the door for her and they walked into the room. When the velvet drapes parted, Siya gasped. The room gleamed in a warm golden light from the enormous chandeliers glittering above like constellations.
The tables, covered in cream-coloured silk and adorned with vibrant flowers, were arranged in perfect circles across the wide room. A live jazz band played an old classic song in the corner. They got swept up in the greeting crowd on their way to the joint Kashyap-Agrawal table at the front.
Her gaze caught on her father as he walked into the room, flanked by Dhruv. Kartik wore a midnight black suit and every inch of it was impeccable, down to the visible Kashyap monogram on his diamond cufflinks.
His expression was polished into the perfect media-friendly smile, his eyes scanning the room with the casual authority of a man who thought the spotlight was on him. By contrast, Dhruv’s expression was unreadable.
Kartik’s gaze swept past her without hesitation. He didn’t acknowledge her, simply walked to the Kashyap side of the table and took a seat, followed by Dhruv.
When they took their seats, Siya offered a hesitant, ‘Hi, Dad.’
Kartik leaned away toward the nearby high-profile buyer who made a quip, but never once did he look at her. Dhruv looked away when she caught his gaze, and Siya tilted her head, curious about the faint bruise on his cheek.
She’d heard rumours of bar brawls and fights he’d gotten into over the years, but she could never believe it. Dhruv didn’t strike her as impulsive. There was a calm precision to his madness that had always made her question those stories.
Across the table, two chairs were pulled as Neena and Mihit joined them. Neena wore a sleek champagne-gold saree that shimmered subtly under the warm lights, floral designs embroidered in gold thread across its borders.
A necklace of emerald vines adorned her neck, and her makeup was just enough to highlight her cheekbones and lips. Beside her, Mihit looked polished in a soft blue suit with a dark blue waistcoat and understated accessories.
‘Both of you together make quite a lovely sight,’ Neena offered with a smile.
Mihit nodded. ‘The press is going to have a field day with their pictures.’
Abhay slid his hand beneath the table, and found hers with practiced ease. ‘It’s all her,’ he said as a matter of fact and the compliment settled in her heart with a thud.
A hush settled over the crowd as the announcer stepped onto the podium. The stage light shone a soft spotlight upon him.
‘Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to the exclusive soft launch auction of Vintage Reviere. Thank you for gathering under this roof for witnessing a dream that two families have nurtured,’ he began, his baritone rolling smoothly across the room.
The room rang with applause and flashes of the cameras.
‘Tonight marks a celebration of legacy, luxury, and craftsmanship. This auction, a joint feat between two behemoth empires whose names define the standards of timeless beauty, Kashyap Luxe and Agrawal Jewels, pays a homage to history while standing proud in modernity.’
As staff placed bid placards on each table, the announcer said, ‘There will be a few pieces available from the new collection, alongside graciously donated heirlooms by our hosts and friends. Only one simple rule governs the event: you cannot bid on the item your family has donated to be auctioned off.’
The bid began with the first set of raw, uncut ruby stones, and the bids quickly gained traction until a young entrepreneur won it by a huge margin.
One by one, the gemstone lots were auctioned off to the highest bidders. Siya engaged with the small talk around her, but her frazzled nerves were getting the better of her as they moved closer to showcasing her personally designed jewellery set.
Her heart soared when one of her personal designs, “Rasa Royale” made entirely with diamonds and rubies, was sold for more than she had dared hope.
Each gemstone lot sold swiftly, and every item that carried her name made her feel that her labour, her sleepless nights and her unwavering resolve mattered.
But in that glory, her eyes kept darting to Kartik, hoping for just a smile. But he had no congratulatory words for her, his gaze focused on the stage. That ache of his absence gnawed at her, reminding her that acknowledgement from him had always been a hard thing to earn.
Siya began to wonder if she’d ever be able to. Her throat felt dry, and no amount of applause or soaring bids made up for the single look from her father she kept chasing in vain.
Just then, Abhay leaned over, and said, ‘You know, I’ve been trying to figure out the words for how in awe I am of you tonight.’
‘Oh, is that so?’ Siya asked.
‘Mmhmm.’ His lips tilted in a crooked smile. Under the table, his thumb stroked her knuckles in lazy circles. ‘But everything I thought of just sounded… small and insignificant.’
‘That’s too bad. I’m curious to know now.’
‘Okay. If I have to sum it all up, I’d say just that if the world saw you the way I see you, they’d forget about the diamonds and bid on you instead.’
His statement was bold, devastating and unfairly effective, so much so that she forgot how to breathe for a moment. Her stomach dipped like someone had pulled the floor out beneath her. She was stunned into silence by the impact of his words.
‘Why do you say things like that?’ she asked when she could form words.