The Broken Vow

14

Author's note: Thank you for the love on the last chapter. Can we please get this chapter to 90 votes?

Aahana Agnihotri

I leaned against the marble pillar, surveying the most expensive circle jerk money could buy. The Agnihotri mansion was dripping with so much fake elegance it could make a museum of modern art look genuine. Afterall, it was the city’s most illustrious couple’s 30th anniversary.
The usual giant chandeliers were replaced with something even more grand. It sparkled overhead, illuminating a sea of faces so surgically enhanced they looked like they’d been sculpted by the same bored plastic surgeon.

My mother, draped in a designer dress that screamed "I'm desperate to look younger," air-kissed another Botoxed socialite. Her diamond necklace – a "gift to herself" because dad couldn't be bothered. I was sure she had purchased the biggest necklace she could find so no one could question how happy her marriage was. Four champagnes down, her laugh was getting louder, shriller.

Dad  was on the opposite side of the room, surrounded by hedge fund managers and real estate sharks. Classic power performance. Niharika, who had also joined her family’s company because I had, whispered something in my father’s ear, and they both laughed. Gross. The corporate circle jerk was in full swing, each man trying to out-alpha the others.

I grabbed another champagne. Behind me, Neeraj Agarwal – Rohit’s father – was eye-fucking the young bartender while his wife displayed her latest face lift like a trophy.

The ice sculpture of my parents' initials is slowly melting, just like their marriage. A live band that probably cost a lot of money played some forgettable classical piece, barely audible over the forced laughter and passive-aggressive small talk. Waiters in white gloves circulated with Hors d'oeuvres even though most people waved them off. I bet none of these people had eaten a real meal in years.

I began playing a random game in my head- count the affairs, the fake relationships, the hidden resentments. I had only managed to count 45 affairs, 20 fake relationships and 70 hidden resentments when I noticed Rohit walking towards me. He had tried talking to me earlier as well, but I had managed to avoid him, but this guy was a leech who refused to let off.

“Well, well. We meet again,” he said as he stepped closer to me, his breath hot against my ear. “You look so absolutely ravishing in this dress.”

I didn’t move or flinch. “I don’t want or need your compliments.”

His laugh was low, dripping with something between amusement and threat. “Come on, babe,” he said, “After all those nights we shared. This is how you treat me?”

I turned, fixing him with a look that could freeze hell. “Sleeping with you was a mistake the first time, and a bigger mistake every other time after that.”

“Come on, dollface, don’t be like that,” he mock whined, moving in closer. His breath reeked of scotch. “Do you not miss it? Our time together? Let’s go up to your room and I promise I’ll make you forget all about those other losers you've been with.”

I stepped back, disgust written all over my face. “Other losers? That's rich coming from you. At least they knew what foreplay meant.”

His eyes darkened. “You weren't complaining when—”

“When I was drunk enough to lower my standards to rock bottom? Yeah, those days are over.”

“Over?” He laughed, but there was an edge to it now. “Nothing’s ever really over in our world, sweetheart. Some things are just... waiting to begin.”

I rolled my eyes, taking another step back. “The only thing waiting to begin is my vomiting if you don't get out of my face.”

“Such a mouth on you,” he drawled, reaching for my arm. “Wonder what your father would say about that.”