The Battle of Thrones:- war among relations

✦❘༻17-"Breaking Point"༺❘✦

"In the shadows of recklessness, even the boldest hearts must face the weight of their choices."

✦❘༻☆༺❘✦

The name hit the group like a thunderclap, each one reacting in their own way. Shivanya's playful smirk vanished, replaced by a mixture of disbelief and alarm. Aryan straightened, his usual bravado faltering as he exchanged a glance with Aarav, whose jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing in irritation. Even Rudra, who rarely looked concerned about anything, let out a low whistle and leaned back as if bracing for impact.

"Arman Singhania?" Kiara echoed, her voice barely above a whisper, her wide eyes flicking nervously to Shivanya and Aarav. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her jacket, a telltale sign of her rising anxiety. Shivanya stiffened, her usually composed demeanor cracking, while Aarav's face darkened, his jaw visibly tightening. Their expressions now screamed anything but relief.

"Well, this just got interesting," Ishani muttered, her voice laced with dry sarcasm. She folded her arms tightly across her chest, leaning back against the wall as if trying to brace herself for what was coming. Her eyes narrowed, a spark of tension flickering within them.

Shivanya groaned, burying her face in her hands in pure exasperation. Her shoulders slumped as if the weight of the world had suddenly doubled. "Of course, it's him. Could this night get any worse?" Her voice was muffled but heavy with frustration.

Aarav let out a harsh exhale, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. His gaze bore into the ground as he muttered, "Fantastic. Just the kind of interrogation we needed. The family reunion from hell." The bitterness in his tone was sharp enough to cut through the thick tension in the room.

Aisha's sharp gaze flicked between the siblings, noting the tension crackling like static around them. Her posture was calm, but her piercing eyes betrayed a hint of curiosity. "Your brother, I'm guessing?" she asked, her tone cool but probing, as if piecing together a puzzle.

"Unfortunately," Shivanya replied, dragging her hands down her face, revealing a mix of irritation and resignation. Her lips pressed into a thin line. "And let me tell you, he's not here to exchange pleasantries."

The officer standing nearby cleared his throat awkwardly, his eyes darting between them. "You're lucky. If it weren't for him, you'd be spending the night here." His attempt at nonchalance came off smug, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Rudra, who had been lounging casually against the wall, straightened slightly. His smirk sharpened, his eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and defiance. "Lucky?" he drawled, arching an eyebrow. "Yeah, nothing screams 'lucky' like walking straight into Arman Singhania's firing line."

Aryan folded his arms, leaning against the doorframe with a dry chuckle, his usual humor tinged with sarcasm. "Honestly, I'd rather stay here." He glanced at the bars behind him, shaking his head. "At least the cell bars don't make you feel like a complete failure."

Kiara sighed dramatically, flipping her hair over her shoulder with exaggerated flair. "Or deliver those death stares that could make even a serial killer feel guilty." Her voice carried a hint of mockery, but her eyes betrayed the nervous energy simmering beneath her bravado.

Shivanya rubbed her temples, her fingers digging into her skin as though trying to stave off an impending headache. "It's like he's got a PhD in parental disappointment," she muttered, her voice filled with a mix of annoyance and weary acceptance.