Zara Al Ahmad was six when she lost the firmness of the impetus with which she was living. The reign of her power belonged to Aariz Ahmad. The drawing blood bath was waiting at the threshold of her edge. After a wait of twenty-two years, her greed f...
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~My beloved, you have beauty to rage a war~
"Does he know his slave is in Banaras tonight, attending a personal event of Naina Sharma?"
"No, he does not!" Dev replies in monosyllabism, Zara fingers stop along the edge of the cancer stick.
"When are you getting me to his office? "
"Your not so loving grandfather is not an imbecile bag of bone like another oldie. I do not need to remind your familial background, I guess, especially when it is in the same thread with Abeer Ahmad-" Her brows dip. His meliaceous voice unnerves her to the extent she wants to rip him off, once for all good. Before he could have continued further, Zara presses the red glow-up rounded option on the screen. Frustration rolls her up to the edge. She needs to find another pawn, but for now, she has to focus on the party. Making sure the pleats of her saree are done sorted, she exits out of the room.
Zara waits every second and minute tonight.
"Don't tell me you came for our dashing hero" Shashi and Sneha sequel together finding Zara descent down the staircase. In response to their stupid hopes, she rolls her eyes.
"Sharma family came!" Annand Tripathi announces.
Her eyes follow the trail of members. For a familial background of Yogendra, except for Nidhi's physique, she finds no similarity between the Army clan and civilian Sharma.'
In the middle step ahead stands Nidhi Sharma. The bride to- be adorned in her sea of pastel blue lehenga ensemble in the woven yarn of Mulberry silk with the artistry coalesce emerging fine golden leafy patterns, embellished with the silver threaded sequin in manga pattern threaded with Swaroski embroidery. The border adorns with English fusion of pink, yellow and orange pastel ending with the navy-blue strip in Kanjivaram silk. Silver sequin blouse with a hanging rounded mirror at the back adorned with blue dupatta from the waist to the front, covering one side of the breast.
Six men stand in the front row, seven ladies behind. But the one sapphire blue eyes waited goes missing. Her eyes scan the guest once again. She instantly recognizes the two law officers. Akshat Vyas and Naina Sharma stand at the right end of the corner, hands embracing each other. For sure, turtle dove of the family. At the front stood with the Thaal Pratik Sharma, the father and only alive parent of Nidhi and Naina. Beside him stood Naveen Mathur. Her eyes settled along, observing him. The man incessantly smiling and bowing head.
Naveen Mathur is one of the most special guests of Zara. With each sip of drink, her hatred invigorates. The man was an emulsion of the facade. Often criminals are dressed in blood, yet the pretense of pallet always gathers at white. Tonight, his upmarket off-white Kurta with a neutral light pajama and Phulkari shawl were the perfect fusion that was hiding his black of sinner face.
