Advait opened the door to his room, tension clearly visible on his face. His brows were furrowed, and his expression carried both urgency and confusion.

As he stepped inside, his eyes scanned the empty room, and his voice echoed sharply—

"Drishti!"

No response.

"Drishti?" he called again, this time his tone turning into a question, uncertainty creeping in.

Just then, the door to the changing room creaked slightly, and he turned his gaze sharply. There she was, stepping out gracefully.

Draped in an elegant off-white net saree, the delicate fabric clung to her slender frame, flowing like a dream. Heavy earrings adorned her ears—ones she rarely wore—dangling softly as she moved. A few strands of hair escaped her carefully done style, framing her face.

For a moment, Advait forgot the tension he'd walked in with. His eyes softened, yet his brows quirked slightly, confusion replacing his earlier frustration. He took a step forward, his voice now calm but curious,

"Whatt..what is this?"

Drishti met his gaze with a small, nervous smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she looked away.

"Are you okay? Did someone say something to you, Drishti?" Advait asked, concern lacing his voice as he stepped closer.

When she didn’t respond, still looking away, he repeated her name more firmly this time, his worry evident.

"Drishti?"

Her silence only deepened his unease, and he gently touched her shoulder, turning her slightly to face him. His sharp eyes scanned her expression, searching for answers. "Why aren’t you saying anything? What happened?"

Her lips parted slightly, as if to speak, but no words came. Instead, she blinked, trying to mask the emotions swirling in her eyes.

She laughed out loud leaving him confused..and she look at his confued face and she again laughed..

He leaned in closer, his face just inches away, eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that made her heart race. His fingers tilted her chin gently, forcing her to meet his piercing gaze.

"This is your way of calling me?" he said, his voice low and dangerous, yet holding a strange softness that made her shiver.

Her breath hitched, and she tried to look away, but his grip on her chin kept her still. "I—I was just…" she trailed off, her voice trembling slightly.

He smirked faintly, his lips curving in a way that made it hard for her to tell if he was angry or amused. "Joking? You think you can just call me like that, make me rush home, and then laugh about it?"

She swallowed nervously, her hands gripping the bedsheet beneath her as she whispered, "I didn’t mean to upset you..."

For a moment, his expression softened, his thumb gently brushing her chin before he leaned back slightly, his weight still looming over her. "Upset?" he repeated, his voice quieter this time. "You don’t know what you do to me when you’re on the other end of that call, and I don’t know what’s wrong."

Her eyes widened, guilt flickering in them as she realized the worry she had caused him. "I’m sorry," she whispered sincerely.

He sighed, finally releasing her chin, but his gaze never wavered. "Next time, don’t joke about things like this. Understood?"

She nodded quickly, her cheeks flushed.

"Good," he said, leaning closer just enough to brush his lips against her forehead, his tone softening. "Now, go. I’ll come with you."

Drishti blinked up at him, surprised. "You… will?"

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Do you think I’ll let you go without me after all this?"

Her lips curved into a small smile, and he finally stood up.

As Drishti was still sitting on the bed, Deepa walked into the room along with Amaira, her eyes scanning the space curiously. She tilted her head and asked softly, "Advait hasn’t come yet?"

Drishti stood up quickly, brushing her saree to compose herself. “He’s here… he’s just changing,” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady.

Hearing this, Deepa's lips curved into a mischievous smile. She turned to look back at the door and then glanced at Drishti again. A moment later, she grinned and raised her hand.

Drishti sighed knowingly, shaking her head as Deepa and Amaira—who had appeared behind her—exchanged a victorious high-five, their faces glowing with excitement.

“Mission accomplished!” Deepa whispered with a chuckle, while Amaira giggled.

Drishti placed her hands on her hips, narrowing her eyes at them. “You two are impossible!” she said, though the smile playing on her lips betrayed her faux irritation.

"Impossible toh tum ho, Drishti bhabhi," Deepa teased, gesturing with her finger. "Finally, you got him to agree to come out with us!"

Amaira nudged Drishti’s arm playfully. “Now let’s see how long Mr. Grumpy Rathore keeps his serious face on tonight!”

Before Drishti could respond, Advait’s voice came from behind the changing room door. “What are you three plotting now?”

The sudden silence in the room was deafening as the girls froze, exchanging wide-eyed glances before bursting into suppressed giggles.

“We are leaving; come fast,” Deepa said, nudging Drishti playfully before heading out of the room with Amaira.

………………………………………………

The group had moved from the theater to the shopping center, strolling through stores and walkways while chatting happily. Advait trailed behind, obviously uninterested, while Drishti stayed close to her girl gang, enjoying their company.

In one of the shops, Amaira and Deepa were busy trying on dresses. Meanwhile, Drishti sat on a plush couch close by, her gaze on the colorful scene but her mind elsewhere.

Advait, who had been deep in conversation on the phone, came over to her when he was finished. When Drishti saw him, she glanced over her shoulder, her face showing a hint of irritation.

He gave her a raised eyebrow. "What?" he inquired lightly.

He sat next to her without waiting for an answer, and she instantly moved to keep some distance between them. them. Unbothered, he slid his arm around her waist, pulling her closer in one swift motion.

“What’s wrong? You’re not buying anything?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.

Drishti shot him a glare. “Did you finally take a break from your phone?” she retorted.

He chuckled softly, leaning back with a casual air. “I left all my work just to be here with you, and yet, you’re angry at me for it.”

“Oh, so you’ve done me a favor?” She snapped, crossing her arms.

Advait’s playful smirk deepened. He placed both hands on her waist and turned her to face him. His gaze softened as he leaned closer, his breath warm against her face.

“No, I haven’t done you any favors,” he murmured, his eyes shifting between hers and her lips.

Drishti’s heart raced as his closeness made her breath hitch. She placed her hand firmly on his chest in an attempt to create some distance. “What are you doing? We’re not in our room,” she whispered, her voice barely steady.

Advait’s lips curled into a mischievous smile, and he moved even closer. “As if you’d let me do anything even in our room,” he said, his voice a low, teasing growl.

Her cheeks turned crimson, and she froze momentarily, unable to meet his intense gaze.

'Urgh urgh,deliberate clearing of the throat broke the moment. Drishti pushed Advait away abruptly and turned to see Vihaan standing a few steps away, smirking at them.

Advait shot him a sharp glare. “What was that cough for?” he demanded, his tone irritated.

Vihaan grinned cheekily. “Oh, that wasn’t a regular cough. It was the kind you use to stop someone from doing something they shouldn’t be doing in public,” he said, clearly enjoying the situation.

Drishti’s face flushed deeper with embarrassment as she looked down, trying to hide her reaction.

“I’m going to check on Amaira and Deepa,” she muttered quickly, standing up and walking away without waiting for a response.

Advait watched her leave, his expression softening slightly before his gaze shifted back to Vihaan, whose unnecessary grin hadn’t faded.

“Why are you laughing so much?” Advait asked, folding his arms across his chest, his tone edged with annoyance.

“Why are you getting so romantic in public?” Vihaan shot back, plopping down on the sofa beside him.

"Shut up!"Advait said with a disinterested expression, and Vihaan laughed even harder.

They were all returning home at nine o'clock in the rest of the night after having a great time.

"Stop! Stop!" Drishti shouted suddenly, her voice ringing through the car as she stared out the window.

Advait, startled, slammed on the brakes immediately. His heart raced, and he whipped his head towards her, concern etched across his face. "What happened?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly, his fear evident.

But before he could panic further, she turned to him with a wide grin. "Ice cream!"

Advait exhaled heavily, the tension melting away. He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning his head against the steering wheel in exasperation.

Drishti, confused by his reaction, reached out and placed her hand gently on his back. "Now what happened to you?" she asked softly, tilting her head.

He stayed silent, attempting to calm himself.

Drishti leaned forward to peek at his face. "Oh, come on. Don’t be so dramatic. Fine, don’t get me ice cream, but at least don’t fall asleep on the steering wheel in the middle of the road!"

Advait lifted his head, looking at her with a mix of disbelief and irritation. She straightened in her seat, batting her eyelashes innocently.

"You know what? Just go and get your ice cream," he said flatly, his voice resigned.

She pouted. "Why are you talking like this? Fine, I don’t want it anymore. Let’s just go," she muttered, turning her face away to stare out the window.

Advait sighed deeply, rubbing his temples. He turned towards her, cupping her face gently in his hands. His voice softened, tinged with concern. "Drishti, is this how you stop a car? I hit the brakes so hard. What if something had happened?"

She huffed and pulled her face away. "Don’t talk to me anymore. If you say anything now, we’ll end up fighting," she declared, crossing her arms defiantly.

Advait’s shoulders slumped. He looked at her, defeated, and tried again. "Okay, fine. Let’s not fight. Just go and get the ice cream you wanted. Please," he said, reaching out to take her hand.

She pulled her hand back. "I don’t want it anymore," she said, her tone sharp, turning her head away.

Advait stared at her for a moment, his hand hovering in mid-air. With a sigh, he turned back to his seat, started the car, and mumbled under his breath, "I’ve married a child."

By the time they reached the mansion, Drishti stormed inside, her heels clicking against the floor in frustration. Everyone in the living room turned to look at her.

Vihaan called out to her, "Bhabhi, what happened?" but she ignored him completely and marched up the stairs, disappearing into her room.

The family exchanged confused glances.

When Advait walked in moments later, all eyes turned to him.

"What happened to her?" Deepa asked.

"Did you say something to upset her?" Riddhima questioned, narrowing her eyes.

"She was fine when we left the mall. You must’ve done something," Vihaan added, accusingly.

Advait rubbed his forehead in irritation, his patience thinning. Without answering their barrage of questions, he muttered, "I’m going out."

"Where are you going at this hour?" Raj asked, trying to stop him.

"I have some work to finish. I’ll be back soon," Advait replied curtly, brushing past them and heading out the door.

Riddhima frowned. "Now what’s wrong with him?" she asked, exasperated.

Anjali shrugged. "Let it be. They’ll sort it out themselves."

………………..

Sam stood near the door, shifting uncomfortably under the weight of his news. "Sir, she's not home," he said, his voice hesitant, laced with confusion.

Advait sat in his high-backed chair, his expression unreadable. He slowly leaned back, letting the information settle, his fingers drumming rhythmically on the polished armrest. Then, a devilish smirk crept onto his face, cold and calculated.

"I don’t want her dead, Sam," he said, his voice smooth yet chilling. "Just set her house on fire. But make sure no one is inside. I want her to watch her happiness burn to ashes."

Sam swallowed hard, his unease palpable in the heavy silence of the room. He nodded sharply, avoiding Advait’s piercing gaze, and turned to leave.

Left alone, Advait’s smirk deepened. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the edge of the desk.

"Now Lalita Mittal will learn. The joy you steal by setting someone else's home ablaze comes back to haunt you when your own house is engulfed in flames. The searing pain... she'll feel it."

His eyes flickered with a dangerous intensity as he rose from his chair and strode toward the window. The city lights shimmered in the distance, oblivious to the storm brewing in his mind. With a faint, sinister chuckle, he added, "Time to pick up the race we left unfinished long ago."

Advait’s gaze drifted to his phone lying on the desk, its screen glowing faintly in the dim room. His eyes narrowed as he noticed the time—it was almost dawn. A bitter thought crossed his mind, tightening his jaw.

Advait’s gaze drifted to his phone lying on the desk, its screen glowing faintly in the dim room. His eyes narrowed as he noticed the time—it was almost dawn. A bitter thought crossed his mind, tightening his jaw.

"She didn’t even try to find out where I am," he muttered under his breath. "No message, no call, nothing."

His fingers curled into a fist, the tension building in his chest. The silence around him felt suffocating, amplifying the sting of her indifference. With a sharp exhale, he straightened, the chair scraping faintly against the floor as he stood.

Grabbing his phone, Advait slipped it into his pocket and strode toward the door. His steps were purposeful, his mind restless. Pushing the door open, he stepped into the corridor, the faint sound of his shoes echoing against the cold marble floors.

The night outside was eerily quiet, the sky beginning to shift into soft hues of morning light. As he walked out into the fresh air, a storm of emotions churned within him—hurt, anger, and something far deeper, unspoken.

Advait’s gaze drifted to his phone lying on the desk, its screen glowing faintly in the dim room. His eyes narrowed as he noticed the time—it was almost dawn. A bitter thought crossed his mind, tightening his jaw.

"She didn’t even try to find out where I am," he muttered under his breath. "No message, no call, nothing."

His fingers curled into a fist. The silence around him felt suffocating.

Grabbing his phone, Advait slipped it into his pocket and strode toward the door. His steps were purposeful, his mind restless. Pushing the door open, he stepped into the corridor, the faint sound of his shoes echoing against the cold marble floors.

The night outside was eerily quiet, the sky beginning to shift into soft hues of morning light. As he walked out into the fresh air, a storm of emotions churned within him—hurt, anger, and something far deeper, unspoken.

Before Advait could fully comprehend what was happening, a sharp, searing pain tore through his shoulder. It felt as though his skin had been ripped open, the sting so intense it sent a wave of dizziness through him. He turned quickly, his instincts sharp despite the pain, and his eyes locked on a man standing behind him, holding a bloodied dagger.

The attacker lunged forward again, this time aiming for Advait's throat. Reacting swiftly, Advait's hand caught the man’s wrist mid-swing, halting the blade just inches from his neck. His grip tightened with brute strength, and his jaw clenched in both pain and fury.

With a sudden twist of his body, Advait forced the man’s wrist backward, twisting it until the dagger slipped from his grasp and clattered onto the ground. The sound echoed in the tense silence of the alleyway. and he shoved the attacker back with a forceful push, his eyes blazing with fury.

Advait staggered slightly but managed to steady himself, his breathing heavy as adrenaline went through his veins. Gritting his teeth, he reached behind his back and drew a sleek, black handgun. The metallic click of the weapon being cocked echoed in the dimly lit alley.

He aimed it squarely at the attacker, his cold, piercing gaze freezing the man in his tracks. Fear instantly washed over the attacker's face, his confidence crumbling under the weight of the barrel pointed at him. But instead of pulling the trigger, Advait held his ground and growled in a low, menacing voice, "I'm letting you go. But make sure to deliver a message to your master—stop playing games behind my back."

He gestured with the gun, motioning for the man to leave. The attacker didn’t waste a second, scrambling away like a frightened animal.

Once the figure disappeared into the shadows, Advait lowered his weapon, exhaling deeply.

He glanced down at his shoulder, where blood was now soaking through his black shirt, staining it in deep crimson. The sharp pain flared as he pressed his hand against the wound, trying to stanch the bleeding.

"Aishh," he muttered under his breath, his voice filled with irritation and exhaustion. "Nikamme... useless fools," he cursed, shaking his head at the inconvenience they had caused.

His eyes hardened, and he muttered to himself, "This isn't over."

………………………………………

Drishti stood in the kitchen, her hands mechanically chopping vegetables while her mind wandered elsewhere. . She managed a faint, polite smile, though her heart wasn’t in it. It was a mask she wore effortlessly, hiding the growing unease that had settled deep within her.

Advait hadn’t come home last night.

She hadn’t called him, hadn’t messaged, nor even asked anyone where he was. Something about her anger—or maybe her fear—kept her from reaching out.

Vihaan had casually mentioned earlier that he was at the office, but his reassurance did little to ease her mind.

Drishti blinked rapidly, pulling herself back to the present. Her mother’s voice broke through her thoughts.

“Drishti, pass me the flour,” her mother said with a warm smile, unaware of the turmoil inside her.

Drishti nodded and quickly handed over the container.

Just then, Deepa entered the kitchen, holding her baby boy in her arms. Her bright smile lit up the room as she said, “Drishti, could you warm some milk for him?”

Drishti returned the smile and placed a pan on the stove, pouring in some milk. “Here you go,” she said, handing the warmed milk to Deepa.

As Deepa settled her son, she casually asked, “By the way, Advait didn’t come home last night, did he?”

The question caught Drishti off guard. She felt the curious gazes of the other two women shift toward her.

“No,” Drishti replied quickly, keeping her voice calm, though her heart raced.

Deepa raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “Oh really? That’s what I thought. Went jogging, did he? Wearing the same clothes he had on yesterday? Just came back a little while ago,” she teased with a playful smile.

Drishti froze for a moment, her mind racing to process Deepa’s words. He’s back? Relief washed over her like a wave, warming her from within. She managed to keep her expression neutral, but deep down, the news filled her with unexpected happiness.

……………………………………