Ishan

Part 11

The club's lights flickered in vibrant shades of neon as Ishan and Shubman walked in. The place was buzzing with energy—people dancing to the pulsating music, couples making out in dark corners, and a few lonely souls drowning their sorrows at the bar. The atmosphere was wild, chaotic, and raw, but it didn't faze either of them. 

They had a mission.

Ishan's eyes scanned the room, and soon, he spotted them—Shashank and Avni, sitting at a small table near the back. 

They were facing each other, their bodies leaning in close, drinks in hand, with looks that could only be described as intimate. 

The sight made Ishan's heart sink and his blood boil all at once. Avni laughed softly, leaning into Shashank as he said something, both of them lost in their own little world.

Ishan's fists clenched tightly at his sides, his nails digging into his palms as he struggled to contain the growing rage bubbling inside him. 

His mind screamed to go over there, yank Avni away, and punch her straight in the face. 

But deep down, he knew his anger wasn't only directed at her. It should be Shashank—the man he loved, the man who was betraying him right in front of his eyes—who deserved the punch.

But still, Avni was the immediate target of his frustration. The way she touched Shashank, the way she smiled at him so freely, as if Ishan didn't exist, fueled the fire in his chest. 

He could barely keep his breathing steady as every fiber of his being wanted to march over there and break them apart. Yet, he remained frozen, his feet rooted to the floor.

Shubman stood beside him, watching the scene unfold with his usual calm demeanor, though he could feel the tension radiating off Ishan. He knew the storm brewing inside him but said nothing for now. 

Shubman, with an icy calm, leaned in toward Ishan and whispered, "It's better if you just walk away for a bit... We don't want Shashank to see you, and besides, I have no interest in getting caught up in jail with you for murdering a woman." 

His voice was laced with cold detachment, though the underlying sarcasm was clear. Ishan shot him a glare, anger simmering beneath his surface, but he knew Shubman was right.

"Fine!" Ishan muttered through gritted teeth, his frustration palpable as he gave one last glance toward Shashank and Avni. 

They were still too close for his comfort, and it felt like his heart was being squeezed painfully in his chest. Reluctantly, Ishan took a few steps away, distancing himself but not entirely leaving the area. He kept an eye on them, still seething inside, but trusting Shubman's plan to unfold.

Shubman, now focused, turned his attention back to the oblivious couple. He gave a subtle nod to one of the waiters nearby. 

The waiter, who had clearly been briefed beforehand, approached the table holding a tray. In one swift, calculated move, he "accidentally" tipped the drink onto Shashank, drenching his expensive shirt and slacks.

Shashank exploded. "YOU IDIOT! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" His voice boomed through the club, attracting a few curious glances.

The waiter cowered, keeping his head low. "Sorry, sir, very sorry," he mumbled, hands trembling slightly as he tried to wipe up the mess with a napkin.

Avni jumped up from her seat, grabbing a napkin and frantically dabbing at Shashank's clothes. "Oh god, babe, you should go and wash it off," she fussed, her voice high-pitched with annoyance. T

hen, with venom in her eyes, she turned to the waiter. "Shove your sorry where the sun doesn't shine! HOW DARE YOU!"

Shashank, still fuming, added, "Do you even know how much my clothes are worth? More than your monthly income, you worthless fool!"