𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐀𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 (𝐄𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟗 : 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬

POV: Author

The car ride to the venue was brief, but a quiet tension filled the air. Anvi sat in silence, stealing glances at Ranvijay as she nervously twirled a strand of hair. Ranvijay, meanwhile, seemed lost in thought, a hint of embarrassment coloring his expression. As they pulled up to the entrance of the party venue-a cozy, beautifully lit lawn- Ranvijay finally broke the silence.

Before getting out, he turned to her, taking her hand in his and catching her gaze. "Anvi, I wanted to say...not all my friends are nice. Some are cunning, even manipulative. If, at any point, you feel uncomfortable or someone bothers you, just let me know, and we'll leave. Stick close to me, or if I'm not nearby, stay with Shekhar or Ritvik," he said with a seriousness that made her smile. She gave him a reassuring nod, silently touched by his protectiveness.

With that, they made their way inside, handing the car keys to the valet. As they stepped into the gathering, Ranvijay's college friends looked up, and all eyes shifted to the couple, especially to Anvi, who looked breathtakingly elegant in her saree. Ranvijay's hand instinctively tightened around her waist, a subtle claim for everyone to notice.

"Hey, bhabhi! How are you? Hope Ranvijay has been taking good care of you!" Shekhar grinned, giving her a friendly side hug.

A genuine smile appeared on Anvi's face as she greeted him. Shekhar's warmth made her feel at ease, though she noticed Ranvijay scoffing at his friend's playful question.

"Come on, Shekhar! Can't you tell by looking at bhabhi? Of course, Ranvijay's taken good care of her! What you should be asking," Ritvik smirked mischievously, "is if they're planning to make us chachu anytime soon." His cheeky comment made Anvi blush deeply, but his teasing was cut short when Ranvijay shot him a death glare.

Suddenly, a delicate throat-clearing sound interrupted them. They turned to see a beautiful woman in her late twenties, with a confident, playful smile, standing just a few feet away.

"Hey, monkeys! Mind if I say hello, or should I ask for permission first?" the woman teased, crossing her arms and raising a brow at the three men.

"No way!" Ritvik shot back, only to be smacked on the shoulder by her.

"Shut up, Ritvik. So, Anvi! Finally, I get to meet you! You're even more beautiful than these guys described," the woman said warmly, moving forward and giving Anvi a hug. Anvi smiled but looked slightly confused, not yet knowing who she was.

"Hey, introduce yourself at least!" Ritvik chided her, and the woman muttered a quick "oops."

"Sorry about that! I'm Radhika Shrivastav, the only female friend in this group of monkeys, plus your brother's best friend," Radhika laughed. "I've heard so much about you from your brother and let me say, he was right. You're even more stunning in person."

"Hello, Radhika di! It's so nice to meet you. And don't be so modest-you're gorgeous yourself!" Anvi replied, smiling warmly.

"Oh, please. Your brother doesn't even spare me a glance," Radhika muttered under her breath, though Anvi couldn't quite hear her.

"Hmm? Did you say something?" Anvi asked, frowning slightly.

"Oh, nothing!" Radhika waved it off with a grin, and they all moved to join the others at the long table, laughing and chatting as the party went on.

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As the evening passed, Anvi felt at ease with everyone. She stayed close to Radhika, enjoying their friendly conversation until a cold, silken voice cut through the laughter. "Ranvijay, darling! Did you miss me?"

The group's attention shifted to a woman standing by the entrance, dressed in a short, tight dress that left little to the imagination.

Radhika rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath, "Here comes the witch."

The woman glided over to Ranvijay and threw her arms around him in a warm hug. Anvi's eyes darkened with jealousy, but Ranvijay only smirked, deciding to tease her by playfully returning the hug.

The woman turned her eyes on Anvi, sizing her up with a faint sneer. "Oh, so you must be Anvi Shekhawat, hmm? I'm Diya Singh, a close friend of Ranvijay's," she said in a tone that practically oozed fake politeness.

Anvi gave her a poised smile. "Actually, it's Anvi Ranvijay Singh Rathore," she corrected, emphasizing her married name. Laughter rippled through the group as they noticed Diya's expression falter slightly, though she quickly recovered with an angry glare.

The evening continued with Diya shamelessly vying for Ranvijay's attention, and each time she got a little too close, Anvi's heart sank. Not wanting to lose her cool, she excused herself to go to the washroom, needing a moment to collect herself.

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In the quiet of the washroom, Anvi splashed some water on her face, trying to calm down. She was still staring at herself in the mirror when the door swung open, and Diya walked in, wearing a smug smile.

"Wow. I had no idea Ranvijay was so heartbroken by my rejection that he went and married you to try to make me jealous," Diya said with a sly look, washing her hands nonchalantly. Anvi ignored her, reapplying her lipstick, certain that Diya was only trying to provoke her.

With a sickly sweet tone, Diya continued, "Ranvijay and I shared some pretty steamy nights before you came into the picture. I mean, he was amazing in bed. Those were some blissful times..." She trailed off with a satisfied smirk.

Something inside Anvi snapped. Without another word, she calmly reached into her clutch, pulled out a small handgun, and fired a shot close to Diya's feet, making her fall back in shock. "You crazy woman! Are you insane?!" Diya shrieked, panicked.

Anvi crouched down, holding the gun near Diya's face. "You listen to me, and listen well. This is where you belong on the ground, beneath me. I shot near your leg this time, but if you ever lay a hand on my husband again or even look at him, next time, it'll be your eyes," Anvi whispered, her voice steely and calm.

Diya's smug smile had long vanished, replaced by fear as Anvi stood up, dusted herself off, and coolly walked out of the washroom, her composure restored.

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