Khushi POV

After exchanging a goodbye, I stepped out of the cabin into the cool evening air, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety. I entered the elevator, and with each passing floor, reached the basement. I exit from the lift. I was going towards my car when my phone rang. Just as I reached the parking lot, the screen lit up with an unexpected name. My heart raced; this person shouldn't have had any reason to contact me after our last encounter—unless someone had started digging into my past. I quickly answered the call, my voice steady but urgent.

"Please hold on until I get into my car before you say anything," I interjected, trying to mask my unease. I rushed to my car, the click of the unlock echoing in the otherwise quiet lot.

Once inside, I took a deep breath and asked, "Go ahead, what do you want?"

"I've been blackmailed by two people trying to learn about your background," he revealed, his tone serious. "But I didn't give anything away. As per your instructions, I told them I only helped you create a fake history."

My heart sank I asked,  "Who are they?"

"One of them is Siddarth Kapoor. I'm still looking into the other one. From what I can tell, they may be connected to that accident. Do you have any further instructions, Ma'am?"

"Stay vigilant. If you uncover anything else, let me know immediately," I instructed, my mind racing. The pieces were falling into place, but it only brought more questions.

"Understood, Ma'am. I'll keep you posted," he replied before we ended the call.

As I drove away, confusion filled my thoughts. Why was Siddarth investigating my background? I had been careful with my words during our previous meeting. Did I accidentally reveal something that sparked his curiosity? It seemed I needed to attend the party after all to confront him directly. I quickly reached out to the HR department, requesting half a day off, and fortunately, they approved it without hesitation. Today was not a day for work; I needed answers.

Once home, I took a moment to collect my thoughts before refreshing myself. I then scoured my closet for the perfect outfit for the party. The clock ticked louder in my ears as I prepared. After finding the right ensemble, I enjoyed a simple dinner while listening to the muted news playing in the background. I secured the locks on the doors, feeling a sense of unease settle in my stomach. Before heading to bed, I decided to message Siddarth, informing him that I would indeed be attending the party. Sending the message felt like sealing my commitment to this confrontation. I turned off my phone and finally allowed myself to drift into sleep, my mind racing with potential scenarios of our upcoming encounter.

Siddarth POV

She left, and as I settled into my routine, the hours passed with me immersed in paperwork, checking and signing reports as my mind occasionally wandered back to her. Mama had insisted I come home early today, and by the time I pulled into the driveway, the scent of dinner wafted through the air, teasing my senses.

Didi answered the door, her expression a mix of annoyance and curiosity. "You're in trouble, brother. What did you bring me?" she inquired, clearly expecting a surprise.

"Didi, you can make all the faces you want, but you'll just have to wait until tomorrow for your gift. No spoilers tonight!" I teased as I walked past her, the excitement building within me.

She huffed in disappointment, her brows knitting together. "Just go freshen up. Dinner's almost ready," she responded, turning to head into the kitchen. "Mama, my brother is being impossible again!"

"Didi, I've already told you—tomorrow's the day! I won't answer your questions anymore," I called after her.

Dinner awaited, and after washing up, I joined my family at the table. It was one of those evenings where the energy felt different; as I took my seat, I sensed the anticipation hanging thick in the air. Papa was at the head of the table, his usual commanding presence calming yet intimidating. I filled my plate, the aromas blending into familiar comfort as we began our meal in the usual self-service style of our household—one of the many customs that defined us.

Between bites, I caught snippets of conversation between my parents, but my mind was elsewhere, focused on the secret I was ready to unveil. "I want to share something important with you all," I finally announced, breaking the casual banter.

Papa looked up with interest. "Yes, beta (son), go on. We're all ears."

Taking a deep breath, I pushed through the nerves. "I like someone. I invited her to the party tomorrow." The words rushed out in a single breath, releasing a weight I had been carrying.

Papa's eyes lit up, a grin breaking across his face. "Finally! My son is interested in someone!"

Didi jumped in, feigning dramatic surprise. "I knew it! I've seen how you've been acting weird lately. I told you, Papa! What did you think—he doesn't like anyone?"

"I should have listened to you more closely," Papa conceded, looking between us with an approving nod.

"Mama, please understand—I know you've been hoping I'd marry your friend's daughter, but I like someone else," I urged, my heart racing.

A heavy silence filled the room as Mama's brows knitted together in contemplation. Finally, she broke her silence, "When will she arrive at the party?"

"I'm not sure if she'll come. She's busy with...," but before I could finish my sentence, my phone buzzed, cutting through the tension. I glanced down, my heart leaping. It was a message from Khushi, the girl who had captured my interest. She confirmed she would be attending the party. A mix of relief and excitement surged through me, knowing that tomorrow would be a pivotal moment for both of us.

I said, "She is coming to the party. You all will have the chance to meet her there. Please, Mama, take the time to meet her, and then you can decide if she's perfect for me or not. But I'm quite certain that you'll like her."

Mama responded with a mix of curiosity and caution, "Alright, I'll meet her, and then I'll assess your choice. But I must warn you, if I don't find her suitable, you'll marry the girl I choose for you."

I nodded, saying, "Okay, Mama." I know many people think I easily agree to things, but they misunderstand my willingness. My agreement comes from a place of confidence; I genuinely believe she'll make a favourable impression on everyone.

After wishing everyone good night, I made my way to my study room to check my emails and respond to a few urgent messages. The soft glow of the computer screen illuminated the room, contrasting with the deepening darkness outside. Once I finished my tasks, I returned to my room, lay down on my bed, and found my thoughts drifting to Khushi.

She has a captivating beauty that shines through whenever she speaks with passion and professionalism. Although we've only met twice, I feel there's a depth to her that stems from my experience in work, allowing me to gauge who genuinely cares for others. Khushi, I've noticed, consistently upholds her professionalism, often displaying a calm and collected demeanour.

Yet, there's something about her that seems slightly off, an elusive quality I can't quite put my finger on. Today, as she spoke, her expression was neutral, almost masked, but her eyes—her eyes were a different story. They seemed to dance with unspoken emotions, revealing layers of complexity beneath the surface that caught my attention. I'm not imagining it; there was a story behind her gaze that hinted at feelings yet to be expressed.

As I reflected on these thoughts, the weight of the day gradually lifted, and I eventually surrendered to sleep, the image of Khushi lingering in my mind like a beautiful enigma.

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