Simran

******

"You look gorgeous."

I gave a slight smile to the stylist Dad had hired, even though there was a tornado of confusion and emotions erupting inside of me. There was a lot more I needed to find answers to, to quiet my head down, which was aching too badly now. Dad's sudden arrival in London, his visit to my show, and then him taking me along with him just so we could attend a private event only made sense if it was too unavoidable. By unavoidable, it only meant someone's reputation was on the line; otherwise, there was no way Dad would attend my show, watch it, and stay till the end when he clearly disapproved of my profession and hated me.

His statement in the car was proof enough that he still believed I was my mother's culprit. Truth be told, until some point, even I agreed. Even when I had nothing to do with it, I still believed I was my mom's sinner. If only we had not fought that day...

I stopped right at that thought. I did not want to reminisce about that day while I was awake because I clearly see it in my nightmares often. Besides, to get through the night, I needed my sanity, which could only be intact if I did not think of anything painful.

I glanced at my reflection after I stood up. I was wearing a lemon yellow, backless, floor-length, body-hugging satin gown. Right at my waist, there was a knot on the back turned into a bow. I paired my dress with YSL black pumps. My smokey eyes complimented my attire, and so did my black Chanel clutch.

My black and silky hair was left open. It too accentuated everything I was wearing and carrying. I indeed looked gorgeous for someone who not an hour ago had a panic attack, almost felt lost, and was forced to attend an event. My entire presence was a camouflage, and I liked how nothing about my appearance was giving away the darkness I had been carrying inside.

The stylist's job was done, so she excused herself and left, and I strolled onto the balcony of the hotel. The city from the fourth floor was not much of a magnificent view, but there was a weird quietness there, the kind I wanted for myself. Standing there, admiring the beautiful skyscrapers from afar, I recalled old times—the time when I was part of a big, happy family, when these events were frequent, but I did not have to be a part of them. I could be just myself, and everyone loved me for it. I never used to visit these events that required family members or meet my father's colleagues with him. Samaira Di used to do it, though. She always accompanied Dad and Mom to such events willingly. While me, well, I was the carefree girl who mostly arrived late, had fun, ate good food, and danced until everybody quieted down. Nobody had ever had any issue with that. I always avoided private meetings and only attended parties if they were fun enough for me, so my appearance was rare. Never knew one day I would have to step into Samaira Di's shoes.

The WHY still was not answered as to what made my father take me to an event out of the blue.

What was he hiding from me?

The earlier feeling of something terrible happening was still there. It had not subsided, which meant there was a huge storm on the way, and Dad's arrival was only the tip of the iceberg. Dad might have made me attend whatever event he was taking me to, but that was only because I was too shaken up by his earlier words. A pang of hurt pierced my heart, and I rubbed my chest, trying to ease whatever pain was there. Right at that moment, the sound of the door knock reached me. I was already expecting the man from before, who took me to the room, to escort me to the event now. I gave my reflection one more look before I held my head up high, making sure I looked confident and not like someone who would, at any moment, tear up.
I opened the door and headed out with the staff from earlier.

The third floor, where the event was held, was quieter compared to the floor I was on earlier. Also, it looked a bit more posh, more regal. When I walked into the room for the event, I was left surprised. It was no random event with unknown faces, but rather an intimate business party. And how did I come to that conclusion? Because of the presence of some of the known faces around. I knew some of the business moguls there and had seen them at my brother-in-law's party sometimes.

The moment I entered the party, where people were mostly in a combination of black and grey clothes, I looked out of place, a little more vibrant than them. I was glad that at least Dad did not get me something black; otherwise, I would have painted it yellow before wearing it. And surely, that would have been another reason for a feud between me and him.

I kept walking in, following the staff, and noticed people around me looking my way. While some gave me curious glances, others looked surprised, but one or two smiled at me. They were the ones whom I had met at Namit Jiju's parties and had talked to for a short period. I smiled back at them, moving ahead. A few steps later, I noticed Dad. He was talking to someone, and since they stood in one corner, which was not too bright, I could not see who the other man was. The closer I got, the clearer the build of the other man became. With his gray hair, I could tell he was perhaps the same age as my father, but his aura exuded more confidence than my father was carrying. I was still unaware of whose party it was and why I was there, but it felt like it had something to do with that man. Once quite close to both of them, Dad noticed me and said to him, "There she is."

Another shock of my life came when the man with Dad turned to me. He was no one else but Ashok Chauhan, one of the oldest kings of the real estate empire. Ashok Chauhan ruled the world of real estate in his prime, started everything from scratch, and built an incomparable realm. Only two years ago, he handed over his legacy to his son. However, that did not happen easily. His son, who surpassed everyone in the real estate world and even crossed everybody's limiting expectations, showed his own exemplary skills, proved his worth, started his company, and turned it into a multibillion-dollar empire before getting his father's legacy as a gift. Both father and son were too hard-working but had different personalities. While he was one of a kind, like a spitting image of a God, his son was no less than a Lucifer, a beast. Ashok Chauhan was no one other than the father of Kiaan Chauhan, who was hell-bent on ruining my life and was even succeeding in it. Ashok Uncle was not only related to him but to Samaira Di too. He was her uncle, her actual family, husband of Samaira Di's birth mother's sister. And that's how she and Kiaan were blood cousins, and I was simply her foster sister. The only thread tying Kiaan and me, putting us in the same space every time, was Samaira Di. Even though we hated each other, we both loved her, and that was the only common thing between us—except our hatred.

"I heard your performance was spectacular." Uncle's words and smile were encouraging, and when he put his hand on my hair and stroked it, praising me and giving me blessings, "Well done, beta," I could not stop the lump of emotions forming in my throat. His words of praise were sincere, and he meant it all from his heart. The feeling of not getting the same from my own father clawed over my heart, and I felt tears clouding my eyes.

Before I let them pass through my eyes and embarrass myself, I blinked them away and replied, "Thank you."

"You must be exhausted after the show. Did you have anything to eat or drink?" I shook my head. Before I knew it, he called a server and arranged a refreshing mocktail for me in no time. Taking the drink from the server, he handed it to me and made sure I was having it. His care was something I craved from my father. My father was there, watching it all, but he did not seem to care at all. He only stood there with an expression that said he was desperate to leave, even when he was the one who took me there.

Having sips of my drink, I stood there hoping at least either of them would give away why we were there when I heard Uncle ask Dad, "You both are leaving tomorrow, right?"

His query caught me in shock. I stared at him in pure confusion, my expression giving away my thoughts. Uncle looked at me, surely understanding I did not know what he was talking about. He sighed and then turned to my father as if expecting an explanation from him.

"She was busy with her performance. I did not want to burden her. That's why I was planning to tell her today," Dad said, almost looking guilty.

"I understand," Uncle said in agreement as if he would have done the same, as if he shared Dad's concern. But my father's care was a lie. He did not care about my performance to tell me whatever was needed to be told. He was only delaying it to turn things against me. And as much as I hated what my father was doing to me, I was equally anxiously curious about why Uncle and Dad had talked about me and what was so important for me to be at an event like that.

Suddenly, Uncle's phone rang. He picked it up instantly.

"Hello, Dhriti beta? How are you feeling now?"

Dhriti was the actual name of Samaira Di. It was the name given to her by her birth parents, while her foster parents, i.e., my birth parents, gave her the name Samaira. While her real family called her Dhriti, we called her Samaira. It used to be confusing earlier, but we got used to it now, and so did she.

"No, no, I am still at the party. Sure, talk to you later. And take care, okay?" Uncle hung up the call and then assured my dad, "She is fine. Nothing to be concerned about." Dad nodded and stood there silent. Even Uncle went quiet and then glanced at his watch. My drink had finished now, and I had nothing to engage myself. The quietness that began spreading around started to eat at my head like crazy. Not being able to hold myself back from getting my answers, I eventually asked the first nagging question to them.

"Are we waiting for someone?" Uncle was about to reply instantly, but then he looked at a distance where my back was facing and replied, "Not anymore."

My dad was looking in the same direction as Uncle, and I did not have to turn to get an answer to my second question, 'Who were we waiting for?'. The whiff of timber and whiskey smell was too strong to ignore. The aura of power covering the entire space was too monumental to ignore. And my erratic heartbeats were no less than a betrayal, beating like drums to give away my deep-rooted feelings, which I had come to despise a lot.

The cloak of beastly aura was wrapping me entirely, and I felt my world was now as compact as a dice. Of course, the only storm that could break me entirely was him, and here I was thinking about what it could be. The answers to all my confusion, questions, and worries stood right behind me, and I wondered if he could hear my heartbeats going haywire.

"Apologies for the late arrival. I had to attend an urgent meeting that ran longer than expected."

His voice, powerful, velvety, smooth yet painful, broke another piece of my heart. Whenever he spoke, it always broke a part of my heart, as I could never stop thinking of all that he had done to me. And the recent point of reflection was losing my spot as a soloist, losing the biggest opportunity of my life because of him.

My breath hitched as his coat somehow brushed over my bare back. He was too close to what he and I preferred. The sensation of the fabric touching my back induced some kind of burning, tingly sensation inside of my body, causing my insides to react immorally. Before I could make a move to get a little farther from him, my father's words caught me off guard.

"No worries. Your work ethic is admirable. You have nothing to apologize for."

Did he just praise Kiaan Chauhan? My mortal enemy?

Dad looked surprisingly impressed. There was a glint of pride in his eyes for the man who was destroying his daughter's life. He was not proud of me when I had been pulling all my broken parts together to stand on my feet, while he was praising the one person who was responsible for far more destruction I had faced.

I wanted to jump out of the window at that very instant. Or maybe I desperately needed to push that beast out of the window. But then he would get wings, and a beast with wings was more terrible than a beast without wings. I shuddered visibly. With wings, he would even look ugly.

Him and ugly?

No, it was better I considered him a handsome enemy.

"Are you feeling cold?" Uncle asked me, perhaps because of the shivering caused by my wild thoughts about the beast having wings.

"No... no... I am good." The chills I was feeling were not because of the weather, but only because of the presence of the anomaly, his son. He was still close, the fabric still brushing over my back, my heart still breaking into pieces.

"You sure?" I nodded at Uncle's question, assuring him I was fine.

"Come, let's go." He gestured to all of us.

Let's go? Where? Did I zone out? Did I pass out? What happened? Where are we going?

Well, I surely had zoned out or been too occupied in the thoughts of my enemy to pay attention to our surroundings to be aware of what was going on.

All three men started walking down a hallway I didn't even know existed on the right side of where we were. It was hidden because of the curtains. The narrow hallway led straight to one room. As soon as we entered, I found it to be some sort of private library or something.

The room was large, spacious, dark, yet beautiful. Most importantly, I loved the vast gap between the floor and ceiling. Uncle and Dad sat on one side of the table with only two chairs on one side, leaving me no option but to sit beside Kiaan. His presence was making the huge room appear small and tiny. I felt consumed by his presence. His concentration was straight ahead, yet I could feel he was staring at me, even when he was not. Dad and Uncle looked somber.

"Since she does not know anything, it would be better if I tell her now."

Now that Uncle mentioned it in his somber tone, I became agitated, anxious. My pulse quickened. The air thickened with the concealed meaning of his words. My mind began to send my body alarming signs to be alert. Every possible reason for the four of us to be gathered together ran through my head, but nothing made sense. I could not think of any reason, be it sane or insane.

Dad stayed quiet though, as if he was prepared not to meddle in whatever Uncle was about to tell me. To be honest, for some inexplicable reason, I felt threatened by what was coming my way. Apart from the two older men, there was a third who also seemed to know it all. Kiaan was unfazed, his gaze affixed right at his father. With posture straight and demeanor composed, he looked prepared, and that did not settle with me. He and I could never come to terms with something, and if he seemed fine like that, it meant I was going to end up in quite a messy trouble.

I had last seen him eight months, one week, and two days ago, at Di's birthday. It had been that long since I saw him and approximately one year and two weeks since we talked face to face. He had done things to me, terrible things, but that did not require him to talk to me, like how he made me lose my spot as a soloist. That one was still a sore topic for me.

My eyes on him had been a little extra than usual, and I felt his body go rigid. I noticed. Someone else could not, but I noticed everything about him. Kiaan Chauhan had occupied my head and my heart for a short while three years ago, but that was enough time to help me read him somewhat, and right now he was aware my eyes were on him. I instantly removed my gaze and looked at Uncle. I brought myself back from Kiaan's thoughts, which were straying my heart away and bringing back the pain from before.

Uncle hadn't started yet, and I needed to get it over with as soon as possible. I was not prepared to share the same space with the person who not only broke my innocent heart but played with it, made fun of my feelings, and also toyed with others' lives like it was nothing.
"What's happening, Uncle? What do I need to know? Why am I even here?" The query of urgency and panic came out.

"I will answer all your questions. But first, I want to ask you to listen to me with an open mind."
That only comes with something one could never listen to with an open mind. The moment someone emphasizes something to be done, it's only because whatever they are about to say will spark resistance in the other person's mind. It only makes it impossible for the other person, i.e., me, to see it impartially.

I had gotten the complete idea that whatever he was about to say was going to wreck my world in the worst possible way. It's not

like it was wrecked already, yet nothing could prepare me for what was coming for me.
"Beta, I am not sure how to put this nicely. Maybe there is no way to put it that way, but I need you to know no one in this room wants any harm your way. We only wish for you to be happy."
Wrong, Uncle. The same could not be said about my father and your son.
I did not voice that ultimate truth and kept it to myself. I was still silent when a storm was shaping inside.

"After your mother's dea....."

No, not about her, please, not about her.

As if he heard me, he stopped and then rephrased, "After the incident three years ago, you are well aware of how the media went into a frenzy and tried everything in its power to ruin your family's name. You had to leave the country altogether."

How could I forget what I went through? Nothing and no one could let me get over it. I could have dealt with the media, though, even when they were portraying me as my mother's murderer. But I could not deal with my own family staring at me with the eyes of complete judgment, like I was some stranger they had seen after watching her on the news, being portrayed as a criminal. Their indifference and silence killed a part of me, which could never be revived. Everyone turned their backs on me. And when Samaira Di got me to London with her, they let me go, just like you let a pet leave who never belonged to you.

"The air has not cooled down yet, and the chaos keeps resurfacing," Uncle continued.

"This time it's worse. Your family business has been affected a great deal." I looked at my dad hearing it, finding him looking dejected. Now I understood the reason for him to be looking exhausted. Things had not been fine in India with my family, and I could not help feeling terrible and guilty about what was happening.

"They have made your family their target and..." Uncle sighed as if it was getting difficult for him to continue and then resumed, "...your reputation is in jeopardy too. It won't take much time for that toxic air to catch up to you here in London."

If that happened, I knew everything for me would be over, my career would be gone, and the people in London whom I love the most—Samaira Di and Niti—would be affected, and so would their families. The vile media never silences if they make someone their target, and they see the end of it.

"Your father and I have become good acquaintances in recent years. Besides, through Dhriti, I know you well too, and in no way do I consider you less than a daughter. When I caught the whiff of all of it, I couldn't help myself proposing a solution to end all of this chaos. To be honest, this has been running in my head for months now. Your father already agreed..." Uncle glanced at Dad and then at me before he assured me, "...but we will only take this forward if you agree too. And I really wish you would."

Taking into consideration Dad and my equation with each other and the fact that he agreed on something that involved me, I was sure it was something unfavorable to me. Undoubtedly, it was saving our family business, but I wasn't sure it was benefiting me. But then why would Uncle ever propose something that could be the cause of my ruination? It could only happen if he was made to believe it was for my greater good when in reality it was the opposite.
All this while, Kiaan had not said a word and had stayed too quiet, which was disturbing me. Until then, I did not find anything that concerned him, yet he was there. He was a calculated man who respected his time way too much and would never be present somewhere where he was not benefiting. And if he was there, then surely there was more to what Uncle was letting me in on.

Before I could wonder more and increase my headache, Uncle continued from where he left off.

"My son has been a favorite person in the media, as you know." That was sarcasm from him. Kiaan was no favorite of theirs; rather, it was the opposite. Everyone in the media sphere hated him, yet chased him like anything. They despised him not because he always showed them their right places, but because he was the only one they could not touch a hair on. I was not the only one who had animosity with the beast. Keeping aside the hate, it was admirable how he had never let anyone get their hands on something that would compromise his reputation. I was jealous of him because of that.

"His reputation is quite volatile. And though I trust him with everything, there is still a matter of concern." That caught my attention more than ever.

"There have been reports of some people trying to harm not only his but our family's reputation. They are women from the media panel, trying hard to lure him into traps not for money but to tarnish his and our family's image."

"Now, this would have been a piece of cake for me. But my two daughters, Dhriti and Saavi, could get hurt. I would not have taken matters into my own hands, but I can never take risks and let any harm come their way."

I then understood why Dad agreed to the proposal. It's not my reputation he cared about. It was about his company and, most importantly, Samaira Di. I was simply the factor who would be used as a sacrificial goat for everybody's sake.

Saavi and Samaira Di were not Uncle's daughters, yet he did not love them less. His love and his will to protect them revived the feeling of longing for a parent's love in me, awakening my insecurities. No one wanted me, no one cared to protect me. I was simply a means for everyone to protect themselves. Everyone there was using me for their own gain.

Did I not deserve love?

Was I that unworthy to everyone?

I had presumed Uncle to be different, but he was not. But then how could I blame him when he was clearly looking out for his children? It was my father who did not care if any outcome hurt me or destroyed me as long as it was helping others.

"I simply cannot wait and watch for things to get better without coming to a solution when my daughters' reputation and life could be in jeopardy too because of some worthless beings."

All of what he had said began tying all loose ends in my mind. There was only one summary of all of the possible proposals in my head: Two people caught up in a mess and a proposal. I knew now what it meant, but I hoped it was not true. My breathing began to grow heavier as a sense of betrayal from my own father hit me with force.

My father hated me, but he would not do that to me, right?

I kept asking that question to myself, but the mute state of him, sitting there quiet and not uttering a word, was telling me a tale which was horrendous and scary.

"I...I don't understand, Uncle. What does it have to do with me? What did you propose?"
I was in a panic now. I knew I had done terrible things, but I did not deserve this. I had paid for sins I had not committed and was still paying for them. But I still held a tiny hope that this was something my father could never put me through. He already regretted doing that to my sister, so how could he do that to me? But that one sliver of hope shattered with Uncle's response, causing my heart to bleed.

"I asked for your hand in marriage for my son, Simmy beta."

When something bad happens, we keep our hopes up, waiting for the light at the end of the tunnel while you run to find the end of that darkness. Who knew I would not greet the light after darkness, but the door to hell? I might not have been a good person and might have hurt countless souls, but never in my wildest nightmares could I imagine my father, the man who brought me into this world, used to adore me, raised me with so much love, could do this to me—betray me like that.

As I glanced at my father, a look of helplessness cast over my features. I was turning pale, and my eyes were burning with unshed tears. Dad looked straight at me, with one ounce of love and concern but with determination so firm I had never encountered. He wanted it. He wanted his own daughter to sacrifice herself for everyone's sake, be it without her will or without one.
"Kiaan has agreed and so has your father, but your will matters the most to me." Uncle might have said my will mattered, but I knew better that I did not have a say in it the moment my father and my enemy got involved.

It felt like someone told me that to be alive I had to drink the flask of poison. I quietly stayed in the room with three men who decided my fate. I wanted to scream, shout, but nothing came out. Neither a yes nor a no, neither shake of my head nor a nod.

"Dad..." The storm sitting beside me finally spoke up.

"Uncle..." He addressed my father before he asked, "May I?"

"Sure, son..." Dad replied, and Uncle gave him a nod.

The two men stood up, leaving me with the man who had given me scars too deep, which I had been hiding. But I was not going to stay there and hear his shit. Nothing he said to me ever did any good, and that time was no different. He was going to carve my soul out and put it back so that he could hurt me again. I got up instantly after the two men left. My back turned to the beast now. I was not ready to share the same space with him when no one else was around.

I thought I would be able to leave without having to say anything. But was that ever easy if it involved Kiaan? Did I ever work with my will when the beast of beasts was around?

"Scared, firefly?" Just like that, I froze and could not move. He had not talked to me directly in over a year. I had not heard him address me with that nickname, and I felt one tear drop out of my eye, embarrassing me more than ever. Even after all this time, he was affecting me in ways he should not have, and I hated him so much for that.

"No," I replied and wiped away that stray tear. I was not going to fall for his cheap tricks this time.

"Don't worry...You will be..."

With that, the beast announced he would win this game too. But this time, he did not want me simply as another woman to hunt but as his wife, whom he would claim. It would be too bad if he thought I would simply be a pawn on his board this time. He might have underestimated me a little too much because I planned to be the Queen instead, hunting down the King of the kingdom he ruled.