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Everyone had arrived at the party. The atmosphere was wild, with women dressed in revealing outfits, dancing under the neon lights. Meanwhile, our ladies sat quietly in a corner, observing everything with expressions of surprise. Their elegant long dresses set them apart, radiating a different kind of beauty-graceful yet striking.
Despite their modest attire, their presence did not go unnoticed. A group of men soon took an interest in them, their gazes lingering a little too long. As they approached, Adhrika instinctively took a step back, fear flashing in her eyes. She quickly moved behind Adhya, seeking comfort in her sister's presence. Adhya, sensing her unease, stepped forward, her sharp eyes locking onto the men with an intensity that could cut through steel.
"Don't you have mothers or sisters at home?" (Adhya's voice was cold and sharp, her gaze unwavering as she stared them down.)
"Of course, we do... but they're not as hot as you." (One of the men, a sleazy smirk playing on his lips, replied shamelessly.)
"You disgusting fool! You dare call your own mother and sister 'hot'?" (Ridhanvi stepped forward without hesitation and delivered a resounding slap across his face.)
The sound echoed through the space, drawing attention. Ridhanvi's eyes burned with fury, her entire posture radiating anger.
"How dare you hit him!" (Another man lunged forward, grabbing Ridhanvi's wrist in an attempt to intimidate her.)
"Oh, it was quite simple, actually... my hand moved, and smack!" (Shridha intervened smoothly, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she yanked Ridhanvi's wrist free from his grip.)
Her sharp eyes locked onto the man, unwavering and fearless.
"If you behave like this, you'll get slapped again." (Shridha's tone was calm, but her words carried an unshakable authority.)
Realizing they had underestimated these women, the men clenched their jaws in frustration and stormed off. But the fire in Adhya, Ridhanvi, and Shridha's eyes still burned brightly, their spirits unshaken. They were not afraid, and they were certainly not the kind to be silenced.
Outside the club, a storm was brewing. The man Ridhanvi had slapped was fuming with rage, his pride wounded more than his cheek. He clenched his fists, glaring at his friends.
"That girl dared to slap me. I'll make sure she pays for it!" (He spat, his voice laced with fury. The group of four stood in a dark corner, plotting their next move.)
One of his friends, trying to lighten the mood, smirked at him.
"Forget about revenge for a second, bro. That slap was brutal. Your cheek is still burning red!" (He chuckled, making fun of him.)
The furious man's face darkened. Without a second thought, he swung his hand and slapped his friend hard across the face.
"Say another word, and next time, it won't be my hand-it'll be my knife." (He warned, his voice dangerously low, eyes filled with menace.)
