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The cold night air hit them like a slap—but it was the good kind. The kind that reminded you you were alive, no matter how much the world tried to crush that out of you.
They didn't speak for a while.
Just walked.
Fast. Focused.
Not out of fear—at least not the kind they could name.
But something had shifted.
Something had been marked.
Shivika kept her eyes straight ahead, her heart still thudding loud enough to drown out the city sounds. Her fingers tugged at the sleeves of his blazer still draped around her.
Still warm.
Still his.
She hated that she noticed.
prakriti kept pace beside her. Her heels barely made a sound now, her posture tall, composed—but her jaw clenched tighter with every step
It wasn't until they reached the quiet stretch of road, far from the party and its sharp glances, that Prakriti stopped.
Shivika slowed too, blinking at her.
"Why did you stop?"
Her sister turned slightly, her profile sharp beneath the silver of the moonlight. "I needed to breathe somewhere that didn't stink of hypocrisy."
prakriti gaze drifted down to the blazer.
A pause.
"You shouldn't have worn that."
They stared at each other under the muted light of the streetlamp. No one else around. Just them. And whatever chill he'd left behind.
"I didn't mean to."
Another pause.
"I didn't mean to see him."
"Doesn't matter now. Everyone saw."
The wind picked up.
prakriti looked back once—just once toward the mansion. Not with longing. With calculation.
"He stared at you the entire time," prakriti murmured. "Not even subtle."
"I didn't ask him to."
"I know."
"You shouldn't have walked into his room."
" didi, You think this is all my fault?"
"No," prakriti said instantly.
"I think this is his fault. And his fucking brother. And that family."
prakriti ran a hand through her hair, frustration creeping into her usually controlled tone.
"We walked into a house full of wolves wearing perfume and pearls. And now they think they've tasted blood."
Ishika looked down.
"I didn't mean to start anything."
"You didn't," prakriti replied quietly.
They stood in silence again.
Only this time, it was heavy.
Like both of them knew something was changing. Something had shifted tonight. And there was no going back to how things were before.
"I think…" Ishika finally said, her voice barely audible, "someone was watching us leave."
prakriti gaze snapped back to her.
From the window, she meant.
From above.
But neither said the name.
They didn't need to.
Abhisekh Agnihotri didn't shout. He didn't threaten. He didn't stop them.
But he watched.
And that made him far more dangerous.
prakriti gently took her hand again. This time, not out of defiance. Out of protection.
"Come on," she whispered.
"Before someone decides we're worth chasing."
And the night swallowed them up again.
This time, not just into freedom…
But into the unknown.
--------------------------------------
The party had ended, but the echoes lingered—music fading down the corridors, laughter still haunting the chandeliers.
Dinner was a performance, like always—silver clinking against porcelain, eyes glued to plates, and a silence so thick it weighed on their shoulders. The chandeliers sparkled above them, cold and distant, like everything else in that house.
Abhishek Agnihotri finally broke the stillness.
"How are your studies going?" he asked, voice low but firm, directed at his two sons.
Ruhaan didn't look up. He kept slicing through his food like the question hadn't been asked at all.
Aditya 'The elder brother energy' offered a cautious smile, "It's going well. We're both—"
"I wasn't talking to you," their father cut in, gaze sharpening on his son. "I expect an answer when I speak."
Ruhaan knife clattered against his plate.
He raised his eyes, filled with a cold defiance. "Why? So you can control me like you had done with my mom?"
The air snapped.
"That's not how you speak to your father," Aditya said quickly, trying to defuse the tension But it was too late. The fire was lit.
"No," Ruhaan continued, voice rising, "you want fucking answers? Fine. Studies are fine. Life is fine. Your control is still intact. Happy now?"
Abhishek jaw clenched. "Control? Is that what you think this is? You're living under my damn roof, eating at my table—"
"Exactly," Ruhaan snapped. "Your roof, Your table, Your rules! You don't ask because you care, You ask to remind us who owns what."
Aditya stood halfway, voice trembling, "Please, both of you—"
"Stay out of it!" they shouted in unison.
Then, like fate itself wanted to fuel the chaos, as niharika agnihotri spoke up
"Did the maids clean all the rooms?"
The maid's voice came soft, uncertain, "Every room, madam... except Ruhaan sir... as per his order—"
"I told them not to touch my room," Ruhaan snapped, voice sharp like breaking glass. He stood, chair scraping loudly behind him. "And don't act surprised."
"And why the hell would you do that?" Abhishek barked.
Ruhaan didn't answer. He didn't owe him that. Not when his mind kept replaying that one memory—she laying on his bed, laughter echoing, that unshakable scent of confidence and quiet defiance still clinging to his pillows.
"I just did," he muttered, fists clenched. "That's enough."
And with that, he stormed out, footsteps loud and fast on the marble floor. Aditya followed, calling out to him, but the door to his room slammed shut before he could reach it.
Alone in the hallway, Aditya exhaled, AGAIN!
when their relation will be improved or never?!
TO BE CONTINUED.....