Chapter 1

Thanks for encouragement on the prologue. Here's first chapter.

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Shantivan shone under the weight of its decorations. Strings of marigold flowers, festive lights and a fleet of luxury cars had lined up their driveway, bringing in the city’s most influential guests. Fake laughter and exaggerated chatter could be heard through the halls as those who had received their coveted invitations eagerly tried to prove how they belonged here. After all, the Diwali Gala at Shantivan -the residence of one of India’s wealthiest families- was the talk of the town.

And yet, for all the opulence, the owner of this sprawling mansion felt nothing of the festivity around him.

There was a time when he would have walked among this pretense laughter and forced chatter, indifferent but not as resentful as today. But that was five years ago. Now, the glitz seemed hollow, like the empty smiles of the guests who filled the rooms with their hollow praises.

She took your joy with her, a voice in his head whispered, like a cruel reminder he couldn’t escape.

He shook his head, trying to silence the thought, and opened the door of his room. Walking with long, confident strides, he came to stand near the railing, looking at the party going on in the hall below. As if sensing his presence, the noise of the celebration stopped, a soft hush fell over the hall when he appeared. The corner of his lips twitched with a low smirk, and started descending the stairs, feeling the weight of every gaze, but letting it wash over him without a flicker of reaction. His gaze remained fixed, unfaltering.

Arnav Singh Raizada walked tall and proud, like a king among his subjects.

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, a servant, eager to please, offered him a crystal flute filled with champagne, one of the finest available. He knew his grandmother was watching, which was perhaps why he took it without second thought, the bubbles rising as he swirled the glass. His Nani caught his eye from across the room, her disapproving look as sharp as ever. He ignored it, the years of her glances like empty threats. She had never understood him, and the feeling was mutual.

Two steps into the gathering, Lavanya joined him, falling into step with his as naturally as breathing.

“I am so glad you joined the party, ASR.”

“It is in my own house, Lavanya. Hard to miss.” The words came out sharper than intended as usual and felt a flicker of guilt as she flinched at that uncalled for jibe.

But then again, she had gotten used to it by now. Seven years, was it? Seven years of knowing him, of enduring his walls, his moods, his cruelty. If she hadn’t walked away by now, he reasoned, she probably never would. And he had long taken awful lot of advantage of that fact.

Hell, she hadn’t even left him when he’d betrayed her for someone else. No, in some twisted way, it was she who had stayed, who had stood by him when the rest of the world walked away.

Fate has a cruel, twisted, sadist sense of humor, doesn’t it?

.

After greeting a few rounds of meet and greeting with his industry associates, the mood in the room shifted. The lights dimmed slightly, as the slow music played on indicating the time for couples’ dance had arrived. The part where Arnav would always feel the hollow in his stomach.

He stood at the edge of the crowd, watching his sister Anjali and her husband Shyam move across the floor, synchronized in a way that looked effortless. Even Akash and Payal had joined in, smiling in each other’s eyes. A pang tightened in Arnav’s chest as he watched them, the sight only magnified the emptiness he felt inside.

Unbeknownst to him, a pair of dark, hooded eyes had been watching him, midnight black, and steady. But within them swirled something heartbreakingly tender. It was Lavanya Kashyap with her heart lived in those eyes, even if he no longer saw it.

But that did not go unnoticed by Manohar Singh Raizada.

He had watched his nephew change over the years, from a quiet man who preferred solitude to someone who had built walls so high that even sunlight struggled to get in. Whatever had happened that night, it had shattered something in Arnav. And then there was Lavanya. The woman who had remained by Arnav’s side, silent and unwavering, even when she had every reason to walk away. That kind of loyalty was rare. And he wasn’t about to let it be wasted.

So he took a step forward, clearing his throat, “Chote, why don’t you and Lavanya bitiya join the dance?”

Arnav stiffened. It was a barely veiled attempt to nudge him towards what his family believed was his future!

Honestly, he could do it, he too wanted to act like a normal thirty-year-old man instead of a self-imposed ascetic for once. He wanted to give in, to feel something- anything- other than the constant ache that seemed to haunt him. He glanced at Lavanya, standing next to him. She was smiling faintly, her eyes holding a mixture of hope and resignation, waiting for him to ask her to dance.

She wanted to dance with him. He knew that.

But as his gaze shifted, he saw a face in his mind. Face of the woman who had ruined him. And it was enough to paralyze him.

He stood rooted to the spot, his body rigid. He couldn't take that step. Not yet. Not while her shadow loomed over everything he did.

“I -uh- some other day.” He said, and saw the disappointment in his Mama’s and Lavanya’s eyes.

.

The first dance ended, and the room erupted in applause. Arnav stood by the side as Anjali and Shyam descended from the stage and made their way to him.

“Happy Diwali, sale sahab.” Shyam greeted with a smile. Arnav nodded stiffly.

“Chote. I didn’t think you’d come. But I am so happy that you decided to join the family.” Anjali said, calling him by that endearment after a while. As if she was reminding him of a vulnerable side he still carried.

Shyam who had been watching, silently observing him, asked as if he were having a normal conversation, “So, are you ready for the lucknow fashion show, Arnav? You will be leaving tomorrow, right?”

For a moment, Arnav’s mask of indifference almost slipped. Almost. But he quickly held it back.

“I am not going, jijaji. Akash will handle it with Aman.” Arnav said and determined to not give either of them any chance to ask questions, he turned away to leave.

Until anjali’s words made him stop.

“It’s been five years, Arnav. Let it go now.”

The words were like a punch to the gut. He didn’t turn, ready to walk away, to escape the conversation he knew was coming. But his sister’s hand, gripped his wrist, stopping him.

“You need to face her, Arnav.” she said quietly. “And I think this fashion show would be the perfect opportunity for that.”

At the mention of the fashion show, something in him snapped. His breath hitched as his anger flared, and he pulled his arm from Anjali’s grasp. “I meant what I said that day, Di. I will never see her face again. Nor his.”

Anjali didn’t flinch. Instead, her gaze grew intense, as if she had been waiting for this moment. “Because you’re afraid you’ll fall weak?” she asked, her voice laced with a quiet challenge.

Arnav froze. Horror flitted across his features, but Anjali’s smile deepened, knowing her words were striking exactly where they needed to.

“You’re afraid that, when you see her, all your walls will come crumbling down, aren’t you? That you’ll stop pretending to be the man you’ve become. That you won’t be able to keep up the façade of being so... strong.” she pressed, her words cutting deeper than any accusation she’d ever thrown at him before. "That's why you never even take her name."

He clenched his fists at his sides, the muscle in his jaw ticking. “I am neither afraid nor weak, Di.” he ground out, his voice hard. “And Khushi-” He paused, letting her name fall from his lips like an insult. “-doesn’t matter to me. Not anymore.”

Anjali’s expression softened. She wasn’t giving up on him. Not this time.

She reached out, placing a hand gently on his shoulder. “It’s good, Arnav. Good to know that you’re not affected by her. After all, Khushi is married now. She has moved on. And so should you.”

The words hit Arnav like a physical blow. He hadn’t needed to hear it again. He had known. But hearing it from Anjali made it feel all too real.

The silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating. Anjali, sensing his struggle, pressed on, her voice softer now. “I think you should go to Lucknow. Attend the fashion show. Face her, Arnav. For once, stop running from your past.”

Arnav stood frozen. Could he really face her? Could he stand in the same room as her and not crumble under the years of unresolved emotions?

He didn’t know.