Pranati stood at the center of the stage, the lights warm against her skin.
She smiled—softly, knowingly—her gaze shifting first to Swara, then to Anokhi.
The smile wasn't for the crowd.
It was for them.
And with that look, memory folded inward.
Flashback
The corridor outside the washroom was quiet, the distant bass of music muffled by thick walls.
Pranati stepped out, splashing water from her hands, drawing a steadying breath. Her eyes were red, but her spine was straight again. Whatever she felt—fear, anger, humiliation—she had tucked it away.
That was when two women approached her.
They didn't look drunk.
They didn't look amused.
They looked tense.
"You're… the lead dancer?" the taller one asked cautiously.
Pranati turned, guarded. "Yes. Why?"
The woman exchanged a glance with the other before answering. "I'm Swara. This is Anokhi."
Pranati frowned slightly. "Okay…?"
Swara swallowed. "Neil is our brother."
The words landed heavily.
Understanding flickered across Pranati's face. "Then why are you here?"
"Because this party isn't a celebration," Anokhi said quietly. "It's a trap."
Swara took a step closer, lowering her voice. "I'm engaged to Shubham. Neil organized this bachelor party to ruin my wedding."
Pranati's jaw tightened. "How?"
"He plans to record videos," Swara said, voice trembling now. "Shubham… dancing with the girls in bikinis. He'll circulate them. My father will see them."
"And then?" Pranati asked, already knowing.
"He'll call off the wedding," Anokhi finished. "He already hates Shubham's family."
Swara's eyes glistened. "Neil's been holding a grudge for years. Shubham's sister rejected him once. This is revenge."
Silence stretched between them.
Pranati looked at both women—at the fear they were trying to mask, at the humiliation waiting for them if this went through.
"And you want me to…?" she asked quietly.
"Help us," Swara said, almost breaking. "We didn't know what else to do. You're the lead performer. If you change the act… if you take control of the stage…"
Pranati didn't respond immediately.
She looked down at her hands. At the tremor in her fingers. At the line she had sworn never to cross.
Then she looked up again.
Steadier now.
"I won't let him destroy your life," she said simply.
Both sisters stared at her.
"You'll help us?" Anokhi asked, disbelieving.
Pranati nodded once. "On my terms."
Relief crashed over them—raw, overwhelming.
"Thank you," Swara whispered. "You don't know what this means."
Pranati gave a faint, resolute smile. "I do."
Back to the Present
The music swelled.
Pranati stood tall between Swara and Anokhi, her smile still in place—but now the crowd felt different. Charged. Unsettled.
Neil stared at the stage, dread creeping into his expression.
This wasn't the show he'd planned.
And he knew it.
Pranati lifted her chin slightly.
The performance hadn't even begun—
—but the game had already changed.
---
The music shifted.
Not louder—just… different.
Arav's eyes, which had been casually scanning the stage, suddenly narrowed. He leaned forward slightly, squinting through the lights. "Wait," he muttered, then nudged Ranav's arm. "Do you see that?"
Ranav frowned. "See what?"
"That girl," Arav said, pointing subtly. "The one in the middle."
Ranav followed his gaze—and then his expression changed. "Isn't that…?"
Arav turned his head toward Arnav. "Bhaiya. Look."
Arnav had been standing a little apart, arms folded, jaw tight, clearly uncomfortable with the entire setup. At Arav's words, his eyes lifted to the stage almost unwillingly.
And then he froze.
The noise around him dulled, fading into a distant hum.
There she was.
Not dressed like the others.
Not moving like the others.
Pranati.
The lights caught the soft gold of her lehenga, the fabric flowing with dignity instead of provocation. She stood straight, composed—commanding attention without asking for it.
Arnav's breath hitched, just slightly.
"It's her," Arav said under his breath, incredulous. "What is she doing here?"
Arnav didn't answer.
Something else had clicked.
The memory surfaced uninvited—the quiet corner of the yacht, the voice he'd heard through the door earlier. Firm. Steady. Refusing to break.
His eyes sharpened.
That voice.
The woman he had overheard—giving herself a pep talk, choosing courage over fear.
It hadn't been unfamiliar.
It had been hers.
Arnav's fingers curled slowly at his side, a mix of concern and something deeper tightening in his chest. "She didn't come here for what this party is meant to be," he said quietly, more to himself than to his brothers.
Ranav glanced at him. "Then why does it feel like she's about to turn everything upside down?"
On stage, Pranati lifted her gaze—just briefly—and the lights caught her eyes.
For a fraction of a second, her gaze brushed past Arnav.
Not recognition.
Not yet.
But something shifted in the air.
And Arnav knew—whatever this performance was meant to be…
…it wasn't going to go the way Neil had planned.
To be continued....