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*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚
IKSHITA'S POV
Tonight was Vriti's bachelorette party. Well, technically, their bachelor party. Vriti and Armaan decided to have it together. The first reason was safety, and the second, well, Vriti didn't have many friends of her own. Most of them were mutual friends of Armaan's. I didn't mind; Vriti and I weren't exactly the party-loving kind. But tonight, here we were, heading to a club owned by none other than the Mehrotras.
I was already feeling uneasy.
Two black Mercedes stopped at the club's entrance at the same time. I stepped out first, adjusting my black sleeveless dress, the one with the slit running up my left thigh. My hair, which reached my lower back, flowed freely behind me. No heavy makeup, just me—effortless, as Vriti always said. She followed, looking stunning in her own way, though her beauty was understated.
She pulled out her phone to call Armaan, probably to figure out where he was, when suddenly—out of nowhere—a man in a black tuxedo back-hugged her and buried his face into her neck. The action sent a surge of panic through me, and before I could think, I raised my clutch, ready to knock the guy out. No one dared touch Vriti like that.
But before I could strike, Vriti's angry voice cut through the air.
"Armaan! Where were you? You were supposed to pick us up!"
I froze. Armaan? Seriously?
"Oh, sorry baby," Armaan's voice replied lazily, as if he had all the time in the world. "My car broke down, and I came with Aakarsh."
That name. His name.
Just hearing it made my heart clench. My ears tuned into every word now, though I didn't let it show. I stood there, watching as Vriti's anger melted the moment she saw Armaan's face.
"I missed you sooo much, Maan," she said, practically melting into his arms.
"I missed you too, jaan," he replied with a chuckle, wrapping her tightly in his embrace.
And then, his voice. That infuriatingly smug voice.
"Are we going to stand out here all night, or are we actually going inside?" Aakarsh said, his tone smooth but edged with that unmistakable arrogance.
My body tensed as his words echoed in my mind. I hadn't seen him yet, but the very idea of sharing the same space with him... I couldn't decide if it was thrilling or terrifying. Maybe both.
We all made our way inside, and I, of course, entered last. The club was packed—crowded bodies, the thump of music, the scent of alcohol, cigarettes, and something else I didn't want to acknowledge. Lust hung in the air like cheap perfume.
