The festive hum of the henna ceremony filled the Kothari mansion. Laughter and music spilled through the hall as Raani sat gracefully, her hands stretched out while the henna artist worked delicate patterns across her palms. Bharat leaned down, whispering something into her ear that made her blush, and soon enough the two rose, moving into the center of the room. Their dance—gentle, romantic—drew claps and cheers from everyone around.
Gauri, meanwhile, had been coaxed by the women into having her own palms decorated. As the intricate swirls formed, one name appeared in the middle—Vihaan. She traced it with her eyes, her breath catching slightly, though she quickly masked it when Dhruv leaned in with a grin.
"So you finally got dragged into this too, huh? Reminds me of college days when you said you'd never bother with mehendi."
Gauri laughed, shaking her head. "And you said you'd never survive a day in London without my notes. Look how both of us turned out."
Their laughter echoed like a melody from the past. Vihaan, standing at the edge of the crowd, clenched his jaw, his eyes never leaving them. Yug, ever observant, leaned closer and muttered under his breath, "Confess to Bhabhi soon, Jiju… before London-boy thinks he has a chance."
Trying to break the moment, Gauri waved her younger sister over. "Charvi, come here. Meet Dhruv—my best friend from school and college."
Charvi, hesitant but polite, extended her hand. Dhruv smiled warmly. "Your sister used to talk about you all the time. She always said, 'Charvi is my world.' I feel like I already know you."
Charvi smiled shyly, shaking his hand. For a moment, her eyes softened—until a strange shiver ran through her body.
As their hands touched, her vision blurred. Darkness. A massive stone archway loomed in a barren land, glowing faintly as if it pulsed with its own heartbeat. The sound of a monstrous growl echoed from beyond it, sending waves of dread through her.
She gasped and pulled her hand back sharply.
"Charvi? Are you okay?" Gauri asked, alarmed.
But Charvi forced a smile, excusing herself. She slipped away into a quiet corner, her heart racing. That gateway… what was it? And why did I see it the moment I touched Dhruv's hand?
Meanwhile, Yug's attention trailed after her, his playful grin fading into worry, while Vihaan's eyes stayed locked on Gauri—burning with jealousy at her laughter that Dhruv seemed to so easily claim.
The celebration continued, but beneath its glow, shadows stirred—whispering of dangers no one yet understood.
Later at midnight
The clock ticked past midnight. In their room, Gauri sat cross-legged on the bed, her voice animated as she reminisced about her school and college days with Dhruv.
Vihaan listened at first, but as the minutes passed, his patience thinned. He leaned back against the headboard, arms folded, his jaw tightening when Gauri laughed about the pranks Dhruv used to play.
"And you know," Gauri said with a teasing smile, "girls used to call Dhruv the hottest and most romantic guy on campus. Life is strange, isn't it?" She chuckled softly before adding, "I used to think he was really hot too. Honestly, he still is."
Vihaan's head snapped toward her, his eyes narrowing. Before Gauri could react, he stood abruptly and in one swift motion tugged his shirt over his head. The fabric landed carelessly on the floor as he faced her, his sculpted torso gleaming faintly in the dim light.
Gauri froze, her breath catching in her throat. "Vihaan! What—what are you doing?" she stammered, her face burning as she scrambled to her feet. "I… I'm going to sleep."
She turned to leave, but his hand shot out, firm yet gentle, pulling her back. Gauri gasped as she stumbled into him, her palms flattening against his chest. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears.
"Tell me, Gauri…" Vihaan leaned down, his voice low, rough, almost husky. His breath fanned against her ear. "And am I not hot? Am I not romantic enough?"
The nearness of him, the warmth radiating from his body, the sudden intensity in his eyes—everything collided into a wave of tension that made Gauri's knees weaken.
She laughed awkwardly, trying to hide the rush of emotions overwhelming her. "You're impossible, ACP Vihaan."
She turned to leave but Vihaan was faster, his hand snaking out to catch her wrist, pulling her back with a gentle yet unyielding force that spun her into his chest.
The impact stole her breath, their bodies colliding in a rush of heat and friction, the romantic tension crackling like lightning between them. Gauri's hands splayed against his bare skin, feeling the rapid thud of his heart beneath her palms, the warmth of him seeping through her like wildfire.
She froze, trapped in the magnetic pull of his gaze—dark, stormy, devouring.
"And am I not romantic?" he whispered, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, his breath hot and ragged, sending shivers cascading down her spine. Before she could form a retort, his arm banded around her waist, yanking her flush against him.
Gauri gasped as she felt the hard, insistent press of his arousal—thick and throbbing through the thin barrier of his pants—grinding against the soft curve of her lower belly. The explicit heat of it, unapologetic and demanding, flooded her senses, a jolt of liquid fire pooling low in her core, her body betraying her with a traitorous ache.