TUM JO AAYE

CHAPTER-4

From the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of my mother, her face flushed with panic and her hands trembling slightly. In contrast, my father fixes me with a look that says, "That's my daughter, raised as my son," a mix of pride and disbelief etched across his features. A rush of warmth fills me at his expression. I draw my gaze away from the chaos around us and meet his eyes, and in that moment, I see a flicker of surprise and shock, as if I've done something utterly unexpected.

Those eyes weren't merely those of the spectators; they belonged to an admirer, gazing at me with an intensity that made me feel like the center of his universe. Woh meri taraf is tarah se dekh raha hai jaise, chakor apne chaand ko( as if I were the moon he had longed for, shining just for him in the night sky). The warmth of his gaze wrapped around me, igniting a flutter of something deep within, making the world around us fade away.

His deep, dark eyes were fixed intently on mine, carrying an intense yet gentle gaze. They were both simple and mesmerizing, expressing a wealth of emotions I struggled to comprehend. Yet, rather than feeling unsettling, that gaze enveloped me in a sense of calm. A subtle smile played across his lips, warm and sincere, radiating admiration rather than mockery. It was a smile that seemed to invite me into a world of unspoken connection and understanding.

A loud car horn blared, shattering my focus and bringing me back to reality. In that moment, I realized that lives were at stake—lives that depended on my decisions. I couldn't remain in that spot, trapped in a gaze that held so much unspoken tension. "Maa, hum ja rahe hain," I said softly, meeting her eyes one last time before I turned to leave. However, just as I took a step forward, his voice reached me, halting me in my tracks. The weight of his words hung in the air, pulling me back into a conversation I wasn't ready to have.

"Ja rahi hoon nahi, jaake waapis aati ho kehte hain," He muttered, feeling a mix of hesitation and resolve. As I glanced at him, I caught a glimpse of his warm gaze, filled with affection and an unspoken promise. "I'll be back," slipped from my lips, surprising even myself. With a flutter of uncertainty in my chest, I turned and hurried away, the weight of his gaze lingering in my mind.

As I approached the car, I noticed Zain perched in the driver's seat, his fingers drumming impatiently against the steering wheel. I slipped into the passenger side, and his gaze locked onto mine with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. "Ready, LILITH?" he asked, the name rolling off his tongue with a mix of respect and caution. Lilith—my alias in the shadowy depths of the underworld. It was a name that whispered of danger and power, echoing the reputation of the ruthless devil I had become.

I tightened my seatbelt, feeling its reassuring embrace as I fixed my gaze on him with a determined expression. "Let's go; the monsters are waiting to be visited by the devil." He gave me a quick nod, his eyes glinting with excitement, and then pressed the accelerator, sending the car roaring down the road.

After a tense 35 minutes on the road, he finally parked the car behind a sprawling banquet hall that loomed in the twilight. Its grandeur was marked by twinkling lights that spilled out from within, casting a warm glow on the pavement. Zain turned to face me, his expression serious as he outlined our plan. "It's straightforward," he said, his voice calm yet firm. "You, me, and Naira will head inside together, while Zahaana takes care of the rescue mission. Naira and Zahaana are ready and waiting. Let's get going."

"And let the devil make monsters dance on her fingers," he remarked with a sly smirk, his eyes glinting with mischief. I reached into the backseat and retrieved my mask, feeling its familiar weight as I secured it over my face. He followed suit, donning his mask with a practiced ease. 

With a synchronized movement, we exited the car, the sound of the door slamming shut echoing in the warm glow of evening—a signature move that marked our entrance.