The late morning sunlight streamed through the windows, casting soft golden hues across the living room. The distant chatter of birds outside mixed with the low hum of the television, filling the air with an easy calm. It was a rare, peaceful moment—one that I wanted to savor.
I stretched as I walked down the stairs, my limbs still lazy from sleep. Today was my only day off, and I was determined to do absolutely nothing. No work, no stress, and most importantly—no Kathir. Just the thought of not having to see his face brought a relieved sigh to my lips.
A small smile formed as I plopped onto the sofa, settling into the cushions. My family was gathered around, eyes glued to the TV, but it didn't take long before Sanjay turned to me with that look. The one that screamed he was about to ruin my day.
"Hey, are you free today?"
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Yeah… why?"
His smirk grew wider. "My business partner is hosting a party. He invited all of us, and I already told him we'd be there."
I blinked. "Excuse me?"
A long, exaggerated groan left my lips as I tilted my head back against the couch. "Come on, San. I only have today off. Let me enjoy it."
Before he could answer, my mother's voice cut through my half-hearted protest.
"No, Vidya," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. "This is important for your brother. He has a lot of business connections, and we need to support him."
I stared at my feet, pressing my lips into a thin line. There it was—the mom card. The ultimate weapon that always managed to guilt-trip me into doing things I had no interest in.
I sighed, glancing at Sanjay, who was watching me with an amused glint in his eyes. He knew he had won.
Pouting, I muttered, "Alright, I'll come."
His face instantly lit up, and before I could react, he threw an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into a tight side hug.
"I knew you would," he grinned. "You're the best sister."
I rolled my eyes, but a tiny smile tugged at my lips. As much as I acted annoyed, I couldn't deny that hearing those words made me feel warm inside.
"Yeah, yeah, fine," I mumbled, patting his arm.
Time slipped away, and soon, the sky was painted in deep shades of blue, a breathtaking contrast to the golden glow of streetlights. A soft evening breeze carried the distant hum of traffic, blending with the faint chirping of crickets. The air smelled of fresh earth and blooming jasmine, adding a dreamlike essence to the night.
Our car pulled up in front of the venue, its sleek exterior reflecting the dazzling palace lights. As I stepped out, my breath hitched at the sight before me.
The palace stood like something out of a fairy tale—massive, grand, and exuding an air of regality that made me feel small in comparison. Its towering doors, intricately carved with golden embellishments, were so enormous that they seemed to swallow everything in their presence. I had to tilt my head back just to take it all in.
A shiver of excitement ran down my spine, but I quickly composed myself, adjusting the silky folds of my dark blue gown. The black dot patterns shimmered under the palace lights, blending perfectly with the night's elegance. My fingers traced the fabric absentmindedly as I took a deep breath and followed my family inside.
As we entered, a young man stood near the door, waiting with a welcoming smile. His sharp features were highlighted by a neatly trimmed beard, and the effortless charm in his posture made it impossible to ignore him. The warm brown of his eyes glinted under the golden chandeliers, his gaze scanning over us before settling on Sanjay.
"Hello, Sanjay. Welcome," he greeted, his voice smooth and rich, laced with familiarity.
Sanjay shook his hand, returning the greeting. "Arshaan, meet my parents, Prem and Kavya, and my younger sister, Vidya."
Arshaan's eyes flickered to me, and for a brief moment, his expression changed. His brow lifted slightly, a faint smirk playing on his lips before he nodded.
"Nice to meet you," he said casually.
I offered a polite smile, though something about the way he observed me left a strange sensation in my chest. I quickly looked away as he motioned for us to follow him to our table.
The banquet hall was nothing short of mesmerizing—golden chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling cast a warm glow, their crystals catching the light like a thousand tiny stars. The air was laced with the soft melody of a violin playing in the background, blending seamlessly with the quiet murmur of elegantly dressed guests. Every table was draped in luxurious silk, adorned with delicate floral arrangements and gold-plated dinnerware.
As I settled into my seat, my fingers absentmindedly traced the rim of the water glass, taking in the sheer opulence of the setting. But just as I was beginning to relax, my gaze unintentionally landed on the entrance.
And my heart stopped.
A tall figure stepped inside, clad in a perfectly fitted black suit, his presence commanding attention even amidst the grandeur of the palace. The moment my eyes registered who it was, my breath hitched in my throat.
Kathir Rathore.
The name barely formed in my mind before a suffocating tension settled over me. My grip on the tablecloth tightened, the fabric wrinkling beneath my trembling fingers.
What was he doing here?
His dark, intense gaze swept across the room, exuding the same unreadable aura he always carried. There was something unnerving about his presence—like a shadow looming over a peaceful night, threatening to swallow it whole.
"Ka-Kathir?" The words barely escaped my lips, a whisper only I could hear.
My mood plummeted instantly. A storm of emotions crashed inside me—anger, discomfort, unease—all tangled in a mess I didn't want to acknowledge. I shut my eyes briefly, inhaling deeply in an attempt to steady my thoughts.
But when I opened them, it only got worse.
As he walked further in, his path led him right past my table. And then, as if the universe was cruelly toying with me, his gaze locked onto mine.
A slow, deliberate glance.
His dark eyes flickered over my face before trailing down to my gown, scanning every detail before meeting my gaze once again. My pulse spiked, my throat tightening as I quickly looked away.
I could feel his presence lingering even as he moved past me, the weight of his attention leaving an invisible imprint on my skin.
A sigh of relief slipped through my lips as soon as he was gone, but the respite was short-lived.
He had taken a seat at the table right beside mine.
A sharp sting of irritation flared in my chest. Out of all the tables in this enormous hall, why here? Why so close?
I clenched my jaw, determined not to glance in his direction. I focused on my plate, trying to distract myself, but then I noticed something else.
Arshaan was now approaching Kathir's table, accompanied by an older man and a woman in a wheelchair. The woman looked lifeless, her face void of emotion, her hands resting limply on her lap. There was an eerie stillness to her, as though she existed in a world separate from ours.
The man beside her, however, had an undeniable presence—his sharp features were strikingly familiar, yet I couldn't place where I had seen him before.
I observed quietly as Arshaan gestured toward the table, but the moment Kathir's gaze landed on them, his entire demeanor shifted.
His jaw locked, his muscles tensed, and an unmistakable fury darkened his expression. His fingers curled into fists, the veins in his hands straining against his skin.
The air between them grew thick, suffocating.
Arshaan hesitated before speaking. "I'm sorry, Kathir." His voice was cautious, careful.
Kathir's glare could have set the entire hall ablaze.
A silent exchange passed between them, filled with unspoken history. Kathir's breathing turned heavier, his chest rising and falling as he struggled to contain whatever storm raged inside him.
Then, the man beside the wheelchair spoke. His words were too low for me to hear, but they sent Kathir's fury into an uncontrollable blaze. His glare sharpened, his jaw twitching as he pushed the man's hand away.
Without a word, he gripped the wheelchair's handles and wheeled the woman away.
The lifeless woman remained unmoving, her eyes void of recognition. The eerie stillness clung to her, and yet, Kathir's hands trembled as he pushed her forward.
Something in my chest tightened.
Where was he taking her?
The question nagged at me, refusing to let go.
Before I could second-guess myself, I abruptly stood. "Sanjay, I'll be back."
Sanjay frowned. "Where are you going?"
"Washroom," I blurted out, already stepping away.
"Are you sure you can go alone?"
"Yes! Don't worry about me." Without waiting for his response, I hurried after Kathir.
I followed the path he had taken, weaving through the hallways until I spotted an open-air garden. Warm orange lights bathed the area, casting long shadows against the cobblestone path. A soft waterfall trickled in the distance, blending with the stillness of the night.
And there, near the swimming pool, I saw him.
Kathir stood beside the wheelchair, his posture rigid. Slowly, he knelt in front of the woman, his expression shifting—anger melting into something else.
Something raw.
My breath caught as I watched him reach out, his fingers trembling slightly as he wiped away the tears that had silently slipped down the woman's face.
His voice broke through the quiet, barely above a whisper.
"Did you miss me?"
Then, his grip tightened around her fragile hand, pressing it against his forehead.
And just like that, before my very eyes, the unshakable Kathir shattered.
A lump formed in my throat as I clutched the rough bark of the tree, my fingers digging into it for support. My chest ached at the sight before me.
Is… is Kathir crying?
The ever-composed, ever-intimidating Kathir Rathore, his shoulders trembling. His hand covered his face, but it didn't hide the slight shudders of his body or the glistening trails of tears slipping down his cheeks.
I had never seen him like this. Not once.
And then my gaze fell upon the woman in the wheelchair beside him.
Is… that woman his mom?
The realization hit me like a blade to the heart. The way he gripped her hand tightly, the way his lips trembled as he tried to compose himself—it all made sense.
Yet, she remained silent. Her body was still, her gaze distant.
Kathir suddenly let out a short, bitter chuckle, brushing his face roughly with the back of his hand. His red-rimmed eyes shone under the soft garden lights, his pain raw and unfiltered.
"Stop crying! I know you missed me… and I missed you too, mom." His voice cracked, barely above a whisper.
He reached forward, gently cupping her cheek, his thumb grazing over her skin. His fingers trembled as he leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, fighting whatever storm was brewing inside him.
A single tear slipped down and landed on her frail hand. He quickly wiped it away, forcing a smile—one that didn't reach his eyes.
I bit my lip, my chest tightening at the scene unfolding before me. Why wasn't she responding? Was she sick? If she was his mother, why wasn't he taking care of her? Why did he always seem so detached from everything, yet here he was, falling apart in front of her?
A breath hitched in my throat when he suddenly straightened, his entire demeanor shifting in a blink. The warmth in his gaze vanished, replaced by that familiar, unreadable coldness.
"We have to go."
His tone was firm, steady, as if he had never broken down in the first place. He grasped the wheelchair's handles and began pushing it forward, his expression eerily composed.
I remained frozen behind the tree, my heart hammering against my ribs. My mind reeled with questions I had no answers to.
By the time I managed to pull myself together, I realized I had absentmindedly plucked several leaves off the tree, crushing them between my fingers. I exhaled sharply, shaking my head.
"Focus, Vidya."
Straightening my dress, I walked briskly back to the hall, my heels clicking against the marble floor. The golden chandeliers cast a warm glow over the elegantly dressed guests, their laughter and chatter filling the air.
As I approached my table, I had to pass by Kathir's. My traitorous eyes flicked toward him, searching for any trace of emotion on his face.
Nothing.
He sat scrolling through his phone, his face blank, detached.
The older man beside him—his uncle, maybe?—kept glancing at him with a disapproving glare before looking away.
My gaze shifted, locking onto the woman in the wheelchair.
And she was staring at me.
A shiver crawled down my spine.
Kathir's head suddenly lifted. His dark eyes met mine.
My breath hitched, and I immediately looked away, my feet quickening as I made my way to my seat. I could still feel his gaze lingering on me, sharp and unwavering.
I exhaled a breath of relief only when Sanjay spoke.
"Hey, where have you been?"
I flinched slightly at his voice, quickly composing myself before forcing a casual smile.
"Uh… washroom. This place is huge. Got a little lost."
It wasn't entirely a lie.
Sanjay studied me for a moment, then shrugged, satisfied with my answer. I let out a silent sigh of relief, focusing on my plate.
But I couldn't resist.
My eyes flickered back to Kathir's table.
His seat was empty.
My stomach twisted.
"Where is he?" The words slipped out before I could stop them.
Sanjay raised an eyebrow. "Who?"
I bit my lip, realizing my mistake.
"Uh… no one."
His gaze lingered on me, clearly suspicious, but I quickly diverted the topic, pointing at the food.
"Let's eat."
Sanjay shook his head, muttering something under his breath as he dug into his meal.
I forced myself to focus on my food, shoving down the unease curling in my gut.
After dinner, I excused myself to wash my hands. The cool water ran over my skin, soothing my nerves. As I wiped my hands dry and turned around—
I nearly bumped into someone.
A startled gasp escaped my lips.
"Oops! Sorry! Did I scare you?"
I pressed a hand to my chest, letting out a shaky breath. My eyes met warm, kind ones.
Arshaan ---the guy from earlier.
"It's okay."
He smiled, his expression easygoing. "I'm Arshaan. And you?"
"Vidya. Sanjay's sister."
His lips curled into a charming smile.
"Oh, yes. And… you look beautiful."
I blinked. Heat crept up my cheeks.
"Tha—thank you."
Just as I opened my mouth to say something else, the sound of footsteps echoed through the hallway.
Both Arshaan and I turned at the same time.
My stomach dropped.
Kathir Rathore.
He stood a few steps away, watching us with an unreadable expression. His sharp gaze flicked between Arshaan and me before settling on me.
Something about his stare made me squirm.
Then, he spoke.
"Arshaan. Your mom is looking for you."
His tone was indifferent, but there was something about the way he said it. Like an order rather than a simple message.
Arshaan hesitated before nodding. "Coming!"
Before leaving, he turned back to me with a small smile. "Oh, and Vidya, stay until the party ends. Maybe we can become good friends soon. Maybe."
I returned his smile with a nod, appreciating his warmth.
But then I made the mistake of looking at Kathir again.
He was still watching me.
His eyes slowly trailed down to my hands, where my fingers were unconsciously rubbing together—a nervous habit.
His gaze flicked back up, dark and unreadable.
A second later, he turned and walked away, his long strides disappearing down the hall.
I exhaled sharply.
"Why is he so creepy? Always glaring like he knows something."
Rolling my eyes, I shook off the strange feeling and walked away.
But no matter how much I tried to ignore it, the image of Kathir's broken face from earlier refused to leave my mind.