They Don't Know about Us

Chapter 23 - Beneath the lights

The music thumped lightly in the background, guests chatting and laughing as trays of sweets and drinks circulated. Near the dessert table, Rahul was in his own world — cheeks puffed with food, one hand balancing a plate overflowing with laddoos. The other one holding a ladoo in his hand.

Across from him, Muskaan held up her palms, the intricate mehndi still drying on her palms. "Rahul! Can you stop stuffing your face for one second and feed me? I've been sitting here starving!" She pouted, looking at him stuff his mouth with the yellow delicacies.

He didn't even glance up. "Starving? Babe you literally had pani puri an hour ago."

"That was snacks," she snapped. "This is dessert. A whole different category. And also they're not filling." She rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, the category called mine," he said, popping another ladoo into his mouth. "They did a damn good job with the catering, these laddoos are top notch"

Her eyes widened. "Rahul Grewal, I swear to god—"

He sighed, dramatically, and finally tore off a piece of ladoo, holding it up to her lips. "There. Happy now?"

Muskaan took the bite triumphantly. "See? Was that so hard?" savoring the sweet taste of ladoos exploding into her mouth. They were so delicious she had almost let a moan, earning a cough from Rahul.

"Feeding you or tolerating you?" he teased, grinning as she rolled her eyes.

"Both, obviously," she muttered, pretending to be annoyed but failing to hide her smile. He was looking so good in his yellow kurta, matching her mustard lehenga. Her hair was styled in neat french braid, taming her curls, with some strands framing her face.

He leaned closer, dropping his voice just enough for her to hear. "Good thing I'm used to it, Ms. Drama Queen." All the attraction she felt towards him vanished right away. Although his proximity made her heart beat a bit wilder, the man always ruined it by opening his mouth.

"Keep talking and I'll smear mehndi on your shirt," she warned sweetly, smiling through her teeth, showing him her filled hands.

He chuckled — but then something caught his attention. His eyes flicked toward the staircase, and the grin faded into a knowing smirk. "Well, well... look who finally decided to show up." Muskaan followed his gaze. Her expression softened immediately. "She looks so gorgeous!" He muttered.

Had there been any other girl he had been talking about, she would have broken it off right there with him, But she knew Riddhima for him was like a sister.

Riddhima descended the stairs slowly, her hair fell loose around her shoulders, she was only able to do a last minute voluminous blowout. Her lehenga shimmered under the lights — sage green and with subtle gold, heavy embroidery and sequins glinting with every step. The blouse hugged her frame, the dupatta falling just so around her arms — elegant, but undeniably breathtaking. She could feel eyes turning toward her, compliments rising – goosebumps arose on her skin as she felt the weight of the stares.

She really did look the part that Ananya wanted her to look, the mallik family bahu. Her heart thudded far louder than the music. The air was thick with the scent of marigold, henna, and sweet gajar halwa; fairy lights glimmered across every arch and wall, draping the house in a warm, golden haze.

Heads are going to be turning tonight, Muskaan chuckled.

But what really caught Muskaan's attention was him — Armaan, walking a few steps behind, gaze fixed entirely on Riddhima. There was something unreadable in his eyes — half guilt, half awe — and something so charged between them that even Muskaan felt it. The tension between them was soaring through the room.