The confrontation at the gala had stripped away the last of Shagun's pretenses. For years, she had defined herself through the men in her life—the neglected wife of Raman, the pampered mistress of Ashok. But Esha's cold, calculated ambition had ignited a dormant spark of agency within her.
If Esha wanted a collection of queens, Shagun was determined to be the Consort, the one who ruled by her side. But she knew Esha: a woman who possessed everything would only value what she couldn't easily take.
Shagun decided to stop being an "asset" and start being an adversary.
The Tactical Shift
The following evening, the Khanna mansion was quiet. Mihika had been settled into the guest wing, tucked away with corporate handbooks and the promise of a new life. Esha was in her private study, the door slightly ajar.
Usually, Shagun would knock timidly or wait to be summoned. Not tonight.
She had spent hours on her transformation. Gone were the heavy, traditional silks she wore to please Ashok. She wore a sheer, midnight-blue chiffon gown that moved like water. It was an outfit designed for a London rooftop, not a Delhi parlor. She didn't wear her usual heavy gold; instead, a single drop of diamond rested in the hollow of her throat.
She pushed the door open without a sound. Esha was at her desk, glasses perched on the bridge of her nose, looking over a merger agreement.
"I didn't realize you were still awake," Esha said without looking up, her voice a cool shadow.
"I found it hard to sleep," Shagun replied, her voice dropping to a smoky, confident register. She didn't stay by the door. She walked to the bar in the corner of the study and poured two fingers of Esha's favorite single-malt scotch. "The house feels... different with another woman here. Younger. More vibrant."
Esha finally looked up, her eyes narrowing as she took in Shagun's appearance. She noted the deliberate choice of attire, the way Shagun held herself with a newfound spine. "Mihika is a breath of fresh air. It's good for business."
"Is it business, Esha?" Shagun walked over and placed the glass on the desk, right on top of the legal papers. She leaned over, her hair cascading forward, the scent of expensive tuberose and musk filling the small space between them. "Or are you just bored of the jewels you already have?"
The Power Play
Esha leaned back in her chair, a small, amused smile playing on her lips. She recognized the game. "Boredom is a luxury I don't permit myself, Shagun. But I do appreciate... initiative."
Shagun didn't back away. Instead, she sat on the edge of the mahogany desk, a move that was a direct violation of Esha's workspace. She let her fingers trail over the smooth wood toward Esha's hand.
"You think you can play with women like they're stocks and bonds," Shagun whispered, her eyes locked onto Esha's. "You think you can just 'acquire' us. But you've spent so much time in England that you've forgotten how Indian women fight for what they want."
Shagun reached out, her hand trembling only slightly as she traced the sharp line of Esha's jaw. "You want Ishita because she's a challenge. You want Mihika because she's a trophy. But you need me, Esha. Because I'm the only one who knows exactly how dark your heart really is."
Esha's hand shot out, grabbing Shagun's wrist. Her grip wasn't painful, but it was absolute. "Do you think a change of clothes and a bold tone makes you an equal, Shagun?"
"No," Shagun breathed, leaning closer until their lips were a mere breath apart. "I think it makes me the only woman in this house who isn't afraid of you. And we both know that's what you really crave. Someone who doesn't look at you with fear."
The Counter-Seduction
Esha pulled Shagun closer, bringing her face into the light of the desk lamp. The tension was thick, a physical cord stretched between them. For a moment, Shagun thought she had won—that Esha would break her composure.
But Esha was a master of the long game.
"You're trying so hard, Shagun," Esha murmured, her voice vibrating against Shagun's lips. "It's adorable. But if you want to seduce a woman like me, you don't do it with scotch and silk. You do it with results."
Esha stood up, forcing Shagun to stand as well. She didn't kiss her. Instead, she tucked a lock of Shagun's hair behind her ear, her touch lingering on the sensitive skin there.
"If you want to be more than just a trophy, prove it. Ishita is the key to the Bhalla legacy. She is currently terrified of me. She sees me as a monster. I need her to see me as... a necessity."
Esha stepped around the desk, her presence once again cold and professional. "Use that fire I see in you. Go to Ishita. Not as my messenger, but as her friend. Tell her how 'kind' I've been to you. Tell her how 'safe' Mihika is. Convince her that the only way to save her family is to come to me willingly."
Shagun felt a sting of rejection, but also a rush of adrenaline. Esha was giving her a mission. A chance to prove she was the most valuable asset in the collection.
"And if I do?" Shagun asked, her eyes burning.
Esha walked to the door, pausing to look back over her shoulder. The moonlight from the hallway caught the predatory glint in her eyes. "Then, Shagun... I might just let you see what happens when I finally stop holding back."
The Hidden Watcher
As Shagun left the study, her heart racing with the thrill of the hunt, she didn't notice a shadow at the end of the corridor.
Mihika had been standing there, listening. She had seen the intimacy, the way Shagun had looked at Esha, and the way Esha had manipulated the situation. In her young, idealistic mind, she was starting to realize that the "freedom" Esha offered wasn't free at all.
It was a web. And she was already caught in it.
But instead of fear, Mihika felt a strange, competitive pang. If Shagun was fighting for Esha's attention, and Ishita was the ultimate prize... then where did she fit in?
The game was becoming more complex than even Esha had anticipated. The women of India were conservative, yes—but when their passions were finally ignited, they were far more dangerous than anyone in London could have imagined.