His heart twisted painfully. He cupped her cheek with his free hand, eyes wide with a flicker of panic.
"I'm so sorry," he rasped, his voice breaking. "Did I hurt you?"
Her lips curved into a faint, sorrowful smile that pierced him deeper than any...
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Author's POV :
Laughter echoed through the lavish Singhania mansion, the hall adorned with soft golden lighting as the warmth of friendships lingered in the air. Archit was sprawled lazily on the plush sofa, tossing a cushion toward Arnav as Tina snatched it mid-air with a triumphant smirk.
"Don't try your aim skills with me, loser," she teased, flipping her hair with flair.
"Watch it, Tina," Arnav raised a brow, "You might just fall for me if I start showing off."
Tina scoffed. "In your dreams, Romeo. I like my men with brains, not biceps."
Amaira burst into laughter, sipping her chilled soda. "God, I missed this chaos," she grinned, curling into the couch beside Archit.
Just then, Megha walked in with a tray full of homemade brownies, passing them around. "Okay, okay, stop now and eat something before your blood sugar crashes with your drama."
Tina was giggling as she picked up a brownie when instinctively her fingers reached for her phone. "I should call Suman-"
But her voice trailed off as the main door creaked open.
Suman was already there, her hair tied in a messy ponytail, a tired yet soft smile lingering on her face. Yuvan followed closely behind her, his face unreadable, jaw set in a grim line, eyes sharp.
"Speak of the angel," Tina chirped, hopping off the sofa.
Amaira rushed over, tugging Suman inside. "You're late! We were just gossiping about who Arnav has a crush on," she said with a playful nudge toward her brother.
Suman chuckled faintly, hugging Tina and exchanging soft greetings with everyone.
But even as the atmosphere around him lit up with joy and mindless chatter, Yuvan stood still. Silent. Brooding.
He leaned against the wooden pillar near the staircase, his gaze fixed-only on her.
She looked fine, Unbothered, But he wasn't.
Because in the shadows of his mind, there was a storm.
A storm named Kunal and some mysterious woman whose twisted obsession had now dragged Suman right into the eye of it. And that wasn't just a problem.
It was a war.
His fingers tightened into fists as he tried to control his breathing. His eyes, dark and slightly bloodshot, scanned every inch of her-her hands, her neck, her eyes-was she okay? No they had already hurt her?
She laughed at something Archit said, shaking her head.
And in that moment, something inside him cracked again.
