Kothari Mansion – Hall
From the upper railing, Vihaan stood in the shadows, his sharp eyes never leaving the couch where Gauri lay stubbornly curled. A faint smirk tugged at his lips as he slid the silver bracelet off his wrist.
With a subtle flick of his fingers, unseen currents of power rippled through the air. The chandelier above the hall trembled, the crystals swaying together with a soft jing-jing-jing, sending tiny prisms of light scattering across the marble floor.
On the couch, Gauri stirred, her eyes snapping open. Her ears caught the chiming noise, and she sat up straight, squinting into the dim hall.
The chandelier above her head trembled more violently, its glow flickering—once, twice—as if the darkness around it was teasing the flame.
Gauri pressed her palms together nervously. "Kanha ji…" she whispered, unaware that the cause of this disturbance stood right above her, watching with deliberate calm.
Vihaan's fingers twitched again, and the chandelier swayed lower, its light dancing eerily against the walls. His expression was unreadable—half testing, half amused—as though waiting to see whether Gauri's courage would hold when shadows themselves began to play.
The chandelier jingled louder, its light flickering like a heartbeat.
Gauri puffed up her chest, still talking to it. "I'm not scared of you, understand? I'm Gauri Kothari… I—"
A sharp creak echoed as the chandelier swayed harder. Her voice cracked mid-sentence. She gulped, clutching her dupatta.
"Uh… b-but listen, if you're going to fall, at least don't fall on me. Fall on that table, okay?" she whispered nervously, dragging the pillow close to her chest like a shield.
Another metallic clang made her flinch and curl up tightly on the couch.
From above, Vihaan watched her bravado melt away. His lips twitched into a mischievous smirk, his stern eyes softening. For the first time in years, he found himself enjoying someone's innocent fear, though he didn't dare admit the strange warmth it stirred within him.
The chandelier spun faster, chains rattling, shadows scattering across the walls like restless spirits.
Gauri's eyes widened. "Oh no, no, no!" she yelped, scrambling off the couch. She darted toward the stairs, her heartbeat thundering louder than the jingling metal.
By the time she reached the landing, Vihaan was already stepping out of their room, pretending as though he had just emerged. She didn't stop to think—her arms wrapped tightly around him, clinging to his chest in sheer panic.
Vihaan froze, utterly startled by the sudden contact. For a moment, his usual instinct to push people away stirred… but he didn't. Instead, he stood still, his hand twitching slightly as if it wanted to hold her back.
Her trembling form pressed against him, her face buried against his shirt. He could feel her ragged breaths. And though he told himself it was only fear, only desperation, he couldn't deny the strange, fleeting thought—what if this moment never ended?
Gauri quickly stepped back, releasing him as if she had just realized how close she had been. "I only hugged you because the chandelier was scaring me," she blurted, folding her arms defensively.
Vihaan raised a brow, then mimicked her voice in mock indignation. "Didn't you say you wouldn't return upstairs no matter what? That you weren't a coward, you were Gauri?"
Her lips parted in surprise, then curved into a small smile. She hadn't expected this side of him—the playful mockery, the faint, fleeting smile tugging at his stern face. For the first time, she saw not the strict ACP Vihaan Kothari, but a man with warmth buried under his coldness.
Vihaan caught her gaze and instantly straightened, his expression hardening again as if that flicker had never existed. "Come," he said flatly. "We should sleep."
They turned toward the room, but Gauri's suspicion burned hotter than her relief. In one swift motion, she tugged at the back of his shirt, expecting to glimpse the wounds from the shadow's attack.
Riiip—
Vihaan froze, half-turning in shock. Gauri's eyes widened in equal disbelief. Beneath the torn fabric wasn't bruised flesh or blood, but another layer—a plain t-shirt clinging neatly to his back.
What…?
Vihaan blinked, utterly boggled. "What on earth do you think you're doing?"
Her hand hovered in the air, guilt and frustration warring in her eyes. She had been so sure. So sure.
To be continued...