The Veiled Hearts

🌹Waltz of Heat🔪

I’ve been dancing with Ishaan for what feels like forever—maybe 500 years or so. My feet hurt, my patience is gone, and I just want to get off this stage. But Ishaan is so invested in this dance form, I have no clue. The people gliding past us look like lifeless mannequins, barely a flicker of expression on their faces.

And then there’s me, Vanya Sharma, born and raised in Banaras, shoved into this dance form like a mismatched puzzle piece. I’m wearing a saree, which I know isn’t part of the dress code, and I’m dancing with a man who could erase my existence in a heartbeat—if Yash decides to stop protecting me. To make matters worse, I can feel the piercing glares from Yash, Aarav, and probably half of Yash’s other friends.

But Ishaan... this man has one hand around my waist, the other holding mine as he scolds me about my dancing. Seriously?

"This is the 27th time you’ve stepped on my foot," Ishaan mutters, giving me that smug look.

I bite back a sharp reply, choosing calm over confrontation. Survival mode, Vanya. Survival mode.

“I come from a place where people dance in the light,” I say softly, “where you can see each other’s faces, smile until your heart is full. Not like this, where it feels like we’re dancing in the dark, far away from everyone, just trying to keep up with some illusion of class.”

Ishaan chuckles—a sound that echoes through the room and makes heads turn in our direction again. I throw him a glare. "Stop laughing, people are staring."

Instead of listening, he spins me around, and now my back is against him. My heart skips a beat when I find myself facing Yash. His eyes, dark and intense, lock onto mine, sending a wave of heat through me. Tanya's back face us, but Yash’s expression is enough to make me want to disappear. I slowly put my head down, desperate to look at anything but not him.

Then Ishaan leans in, so close that his breath felt on my neck. His voice is a low whisper in my ear. “He’s jealous, my revenge is done here.”

Jealous? Revenge?

As Yash’s eyes bore into me from across the room, I can feel the consequences already building. Whatever Ishaan’s game is, I know I’m the pawn, and it’s starting to make sense. I turn back around, just as Ishaan breath inches closer to my neck. Panic flares inside me. Before he can cross that line, I place both hands on his shoulders and gently push him away.

But instead of backing off, Ishaan’s grip tightens. Now both his hands are on my waist, making the situation ten times worse. My pulse races as I meet his gaze, ready to snap at him, but he beats me to it.

“Yash met a girl 5yrs ago but lost her because he was given responsibility to be sitting in the CEO position ,” he says, his voice cold and calculated, “He is already taking too many risks for you . So,if you hurt him, Miss Sharma. I’ll make you watch as your family is torn apart by my puppies and then you watch your own body pieces falling away from your body.”