The evening before the wedding

The sun was beginning its slow descent, casting a warm, golden glow over the sprawling Shergill estate. The sky was painted in soft hues of pink, orange, and lavender, creating a picturesque backdrop that seemed almost too perfect for the tension brewing beneath it. The air was still, carrying the faint scent of jasmine from the garden, mingling with the aroma of fresh earth after a day of light rain. The droplets still clung to the leaves, sparkling like tiny diamonds in the fading light.

The mansion was abuzz with activity as preparations for the wedding reached their final stages. Fairy lights adorned the trees, twinkling like stars as they slowly came to life with the encroaching dusk. The entire estate was bathed in a soft, romantic light, enhancing the grandeur of the occasion.

Inside, the mood was equally vibrant. Lavanya's friends were gathered in the grand living room, sipping on glasses of spiced chai and laughing over shared memories. Lavanya herself was seated at the center, surrounded by a bevy of friends, her face glowing not just with the beauty of the evening, but also with the anticipation of the day ahead. She was the epitome of a bride-to-be, her every gesture graceful, her smile radiant as she listened to the playful teasing and well-wishes being showered upon her. But only she knew what lied beneath her fake personality.

Yet, just outside the gathering, there was a different kind of tension brewing. Drishti stood on the balcony, away from the cheerful buzz of the wedding preparations. The cool evening breeze played with the strands of her hair, but she was too lost in thought to notice. Her eyes were fixed on the horizon, but her mind was elsewhere-calculating, planning, and worrying. The beauty of the evening was lost on her, overshadowed by the storm of emotions raging within. Her mind went back to the moment when she realized she had to leave the house even before she started her mission.

"Everyone, prepare your bags and suitcases. You people will board the flight right after the wedding, flying back to Indonesia.. No delays, no excuses. Got it?"

Rakshit spoke, his voice cold and static, a hard expression on his face as the wedding preparations played in his mind.

Drishti's heart dropped. She couldn't leave this house. Not before she found the one she has been looking for. She had to find a way, a perfect plan, and she needed it fast.

The noise of slow and soft footsteps pulled her out of her trance.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed Rakshit walking in the garden below, his posture rigid, his steps deliberate. He paused by the fountain, his gaze fixed on the water as it cascaded gently down. The evening light softened his features, but there was a hardness in his eyes that the golden glow couldn't mask. He looked every bit the stoic groom-to-be, yet there was an unmistakable shadow of reluctance and conflict lurking beneath his composed exterior.

As their eyes met briefly, a spark of recognition passed between them-a silent acknowledgment of the roles they were about to play in the intricate dance of deception that would unfold tomorrow. The evening was beautiful, yes, but it was also deceptive, masking the undercurrents of tension, doubt, and uncertainty that would come to a head all too soon.

Drishti tore her gaze away, her heart pounding in her chest as she walked back inside. The warmth of the evening air and the beauty of the setting sun could do nothing to calm the storm brewing inside her. Tomorrow would be a day of reckoning, but tonight, as the golden light faded into the deep blues of night, there was only the unsettling quiet before the storm.

WEDDING DAY, 2 HRS BEFORE THE FUNCTION

Drishti's heart raced as she paced in her small room in the Shergill mansion. She couldn't let this opportunity slip away. The Shergill house held the key to her past and the identity of the person who was the reason for all her miseries. She had to unfold the secrets that had been buried for almost 2 decades. But Rakshit's impending wedding to Lavanya would mean the end of her stay here.

Lavanya was staying in the guest suite, busy with wedding preparations. Drishti had observed her movements for days, noting the times when she was alone. Right now was the perfect time. Rakshit's family had gone out for a puja in the mandir and she was alone in her room.

Lavanya's family lived far away, too busy to attend their daughter's wedding. Not like it affects Lavanya, she has money, a well paying job, the CEO as her best friend and soon to be husband.

Drishti took a deep breath and put on the maid's uniform she had borrowed. With her hair tied up and a scarf covering most of her face, she looked like any other maid in the house. She carried a tray with a glass of juice, laced with a mild sedative she had procured from Divya's medical supplies.

Lavanya answered the door with an annoyed look, thinking it was just another maid. "Oh, juice. Just leave it on the table," she said absentmindedly, returning to her wedding attire laid out on the bed. She was too busy to notice her surroundings.

Drishti placed the tray down, her heart pounding in her chest. "Is there anything else you need, ma'am?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

Lavanya shook her head, taking a sip of the juice. "Its fine.." she scrolled through Rakshit's photos stored in her phone as a victory smile danced on her lips, unaware of everything.

Within minutes, she started to feel drowsy. "I feel... strange..." she muttered, swaying slightly before collapsing onto the bed. The dose was heavy, and it worked fast.

Drishti worked quickly, tying Lavanya's hands and feet and gagging her. She dragged her into the closet, making sure she was hidden well. With Lavanya secured, Drishti changed into her own clothes, an elegant lehenga that shined brightly, and covered her face with the bridal veil.

Drishti then called her trusted friend, Aakash, who was waiting outside the mansion with a car. She carefully carried the unconscious Lavanya out through a back entrance, avoiding any staff or security. Aakash helped her load Lavanya into the car, and they drove off to the airport.

"You sure she won't recognize you?" Aakash asked, his voice having a hint of worry in it.

"Yeah, don't worry. I planned it well before executing it." Drishti replied, a sudden wave of guilt gripping her heart. She knows it's wrong, but she has to do this.

The wedding was set to be a grand affair in the Shergill mansion's opulent hall. Rakshit, looking dashing in his sherwani, stood at the altar, his expression unreadable. He was marrying Lavanya out of obligation to his mother, not love. His cold demeanor masked the storm inside him.

Drishti, her face hidden behind the heavy bridal veil, was led to the mandap by Rakshit's mother, who was beyond happy.

"Im so happy Lavanya! Beta, thank you so much!" His mother spoke, joy clearly evident in her voice. Drishti's heart pounded with a mix of fear and guilt. She glanced at Rakshit, who was too preoccupied to notice the switch. The rituals began, and the guests were none the wiser.

As the priest chanted the mantras, Rakshit glanced at his bride, trying to make out her features through the veil. He noticed her hands trembling slightly as they exchanged garlands. Something felt off, but he dismissed it as pre-wedding nerves.

As Panditji began the rituals, the bride's veil was lowered, shrouding her face. Rakshit, lost in thought, barely registered the initial proceedings.

"Ab var, vadhu ki maang me sindur bhariye" Pandit ji spoke, waiting for the couple to perform the Ritual.

With a heavy heart, Rakshit lifted the veil with a sense of dread. His gaze fell upon the face hidden beneath it, and his eyes widened in shock and anger. Instead of Lavanya, he saw Drishti staring back at him, her eyes filled with a mix of defiance and uncertainty. The realization hit him like a tidal wave.

His heart pounded in his chest, his thoughts racing. He looked at Drishti, the woman he had loathed from the start, and felt a surge of rage and betrayal. The whole scenario felt like a cruel joke, and the sight of her-his enemy-standing in the place where Lavanya should have been was infuriating.

His fingers trembled as he touched the vermillion, the vibrant red powder in sharp contrast to his cold, conflicted emotions. The ritual was meant to symbolize the binding of two souls, but in Rakshit's mind, it felt like an injustice. He was supposed to marry Lavanya, and instead, he was forced to accept this unexpected twist.

Despite his inner turmoil, Rakshit knew he had no choice but to go through with the ceremony. The guests, unaware of the chaos unfolding, looked on with smiles and approval. Rakshit's mother, beaming with pride, had no idea about the internal storm raging within her son.

Rakshit took a handful of vermillion instead of a pinch, applying the vermillion to Drishti's partition with deliberate precision, his face a steeled against his emotions. His movements were mechanical, devoid of the usual warmth or affection that should accompany such a sacred act. His heart was heavy with a sense of betrayal, and he struggled to mask his fury.

Drishti, under the veil, felt the weight of the moment. The application of vermillion was more than just a ritual; it was a symbol of the irreversible commitment they were making to each other. The act, which should have been filled with joy and reverence, was overshadowed by the sense of deception and anger. She could feel Rakshit's resentment and knew that this was not how she had envisioned her wedding day.

As Rakshit completed the ritual, he lowered the veil back into place, his hands shaking slightly. He couldn't bring himself to look at Drishti, knowing that every gesture, every movement, was a testament to the farce that had become their wedding.

As the ceremony concluded, Rakshit's feelings of confusion and anger morphed into a steely resolve. He had been pushed into a corner, and now he needed to face the reality of his new situation. The guests celebrated, oblivious to the discord between the newlyweds.

"Jeete rho" the newly wedded couples seeked blessings from the elders as Mahima blessed them both, unaware of the events that had unfolded in the house.

Later, as Rakshit stepped towards his bed room, the atmosphere was thick with tension. The grand bedroom, decorated for the wedding night, felt like a stage set for a drama Rakshit had no interest in participating in.

The room was dimly lit, a soft glow emanating from the bedside lamps, casting long shadows across the ornate furnishings. The air was thick with a mix of floral scents from the garlands draped around the bed, a stark contrast to the tension simmering in the atmosphere. Drishti sat on the edge of the bed, her hands tightly clasped in her lap, heart pounding with a mix of fear and anticipation.

The door burst open with a sharp bang, and Rakshit stormed in, his face a mask of barely contained fury. He yanked off his watch and threw it onto a nearby table, the metallic clang echoing through the room. His eyes blazed as he fixed his gaze on Drishti, the reality of the situation hitting him with full force.

"WHY DID YOU MARRY ME?!" he roared, his voice trembling with anger.

Drishti flinched but held her ground, her chin lifted defiantly even as her heart raced. She had expected his anger, but the intensity of it still caught her off guard. She searched for words, any explanation that might make sense, but nothing came.

Rakshit advanced towards her, his jaw clenched. "You thought you could just-just waltz in here and take her place?" He gestured wildly, his frustration boiling over. "Why, Ms. Sud? Why did you do this?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but the words caught in her throat. How could she explain the turmoil that had driven her to such an extreme? The secrets, the emotions, the desperation-it all felt too tangled to articulate. She lowered her gaze, unable to meet his piercing stare.

Rakshit stopped a few steps away from her, his breath coming fast and shallow. His voice now quieter but no less intense. "You've turned my life upside down. Do you think this is some kind of joke? The woman I never wanted as my wife is now married to me!"

Drishti swallowed hard, finally finding her voice. "I... I have no explanation for you..." she murmured, her voice barely audible.

He scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "No explanation?" He ran a hand through his hair, exasperated.

"Kaise... kaise kar leti ho yeh sab? Haan? Kyu kiya, kiske liye kiya? Tumhe toh mai pasand nhi tha na? Akdu, khadoos, rob jhaadne wala bedil Shergill bulati thi na? TOH FIR KYU KI YEH SHAADI DAMN IT!"

He threw his pagdi away and she flinched badly.

She bit her lip, feeling the weight of his words. She knew what she had done was reckless, but in the heat of the moment, it had felt like the only option. Now, faced with Rakshit's wrath, the reality of her actions settled heavily on her shoulders.

Rakshit stared at her, his anger slowly giving way to disbelief. He couldn't fathom why she, of all people, would go to such lengths. They had never seen eye to eye, had always clashed. This-this twisted, unwanted marriage-was the last thing he had expected.

"Tell me! Was this just to spite me? To make my life miserable? Because if it was, congratulations, you've succeeded."

Drishti felt a pang of hurt at his words but tried to steel herself. "It wasn't about you," she said, her voice firmer now. "It was... complicated. I had my reasons."

Rakshit's eyes narrowed, his gaze piercing as he searched her face for any sign of the truth. His mind was a storm of anger, confusion, and betrayal. "Reasons.." he echoed, his voice thick with disbelief and skepticism. The word tasted bitter on his tongue. "What reasons could possibly justify THIS?!" He gestured wildly around the room, as if the very walls bore witness to the enormity of her deception.

She hesitated, unable to offer a satisfactory explanation. The truth was too convoluted, too wrapped up in her own emotions and the tangled web of their past interactions. She sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and sadness. "I can't explain it right now" she admitted, her voice small.

"Wow! You can't explain but you had the goddamn audacity to do this?"

His voice rose, laced with sarcasm and biting disbelief. He took a step closer, towering over her as if his sheer presence could force the truth out of her. The betrayal he felt was like a knife twisting in his gut, and he couldn't comprehend how she could stand there, so calm and composed, after what she'd done.

Drishti flinched at his words, but she held her ground. The intensity of his anger was almost palpable, but she knew she had to stay strong.

"I... I don't have any explanation to give you, Rakshit sir..."

She spoke, her voice low and quiet, the formality of his title slipping from her lips out of habit. Her heart pounded in her chest as she braced herself for his response. She could feel the walls closing in on her, the silence between them heavy with unresolved tension.

But Rakshit was far from silent. His anger boiled over, fueled by the cold, hard truth that he still couldn't grasp. He leaned in, his eyes burning with a mix of rage and something else-something deeper, more painful.

"But I do!" he snarled, his voice a harsh whisper that cut through the air like a blade. "I know why you did this, Miss..." He paused, his expression twisting into one of bitter satisfaction as he corrected himself.

"No, wait... MRS SHERGILL.."

The words dripped with venom, and he took a perverse pleasure in throwing that title back in her face.

It was as if by saying it out loud, by acknowledging this twisted bond between them, he could make her feel the weight of what she'd done, make her understand just how deeply she had wounded him. He saw her flinch slightly, a flicker of pain crossing her face, and it only spurred him on. He wanted her to feel what he felt-betrayed, humiliated, trapped.

Drishti's breath hitched at the venom in his voice. The way he spat out
"Mrs. Shergill" like it was a curse, a punishment, made her stomach churn. She hated the title, hated how it made her feel like a fraud, an imposter in a life she never wanted. But she couldn't show that to him. Not now. She had to remain strong, even as every word he hurled at her chipped away at the facade she was desperately trying to maintain.

Rakshit stared at her, his chest heaving with anger, waiting for her to break, to confess, to give him something-anything-that would make sense of this nightmare. But she remained silent, her eyes downcast, refusing to meet his gaze. The silence was deafening, and it only served to deepen the chasm between them, the unspoken truths and buried secrets festering in the space between their hearts.

Finally, Rakshit let out a bitter laugh, the sound devoid of any real humor.

"You have no idea what you've done... Mrs. Shergill"

"Don't call me that" she snapped, her voice sharper than she intended. But beneath her anger, there was a flicker of something else-regret, perhaps? Guilt? She pushed those thoughts aside, determined not to show any weakness in front of him.

His fists clenched at his sides as he struggled to maintain control, to keep his emotions in check. But the more he tried to push down the confusing swirl of feelings, the more they fought their way to the surface. He wanted answers, but more than that, he wanted to hurt her the way she had hurt him, to make her feel the same sense of betrayal that had been eating away at him since he lifted that veil.

Rakshit stepped toward Drishti, his face hovering just inches from hers, eyes blazing with a mix of anger and betrayal. His voice was low and dangerously calm as he said

"You may have married me, but don't think for a second that this will be easy. Now, I'll show you how rude, egoistic and heartless I am." With each word, he inched closer, his breath hot against her skin.

Drishti, refusing to back down, met his gaze with equal intensity. "As my husband, it's your duty to ensure your wife is not uncomfortable around you." she replied, her voice steady despite the tension crackling between them.

Rakshit paused, the challenge in her words striking a nerve. He backed away slightly, his eyes still locked on hers, filled with a storm of emotions.

"You being here or not doesn't matter to me. I never wanted to get married. Infact, marriage was never in the list. You can say I agreed to marry because of my mother's happiness. I have a lot of works, business deals, tours, meetings. I have no time for you." He spat, his voice sharp.

"I wouldn't have troubled you, but the way you said 'my husband'... it's as if you're challenging me. Fine, I accept your challenge, Mrs. Shergill. And trust me when I say, I always win. It's going to be fun-be prepared."

He said, his voice cold and detached, as if he was already trying to distance himself from the pain.

Drishti's eyes narrowed, her own anger rising to match his. "I never lose, Mr. Shergill, especially not to someone like you." she shot back, her glare unwavering. The room was thick with unresolved tension as their battle lines were drawn, both refusing to be the first to look away.

Hearing "Mr. Shergill" from her mouth felt like a dagger twisting in his chest. The formality in her tone, the deliberate use of his last name, ignited a fresh wave of anger within him. It was a reminder that this marriage was nothing but a sham, a twisted game she had forced him into.

He loathed how the words sounded from her lips, as if she were mocking the very institution they were now bound by. Rakshit's jaw tightened, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. A surge of betrayal so intense washed over him that it almost took his breath away. This woman, whom he never wanted in his life, now stood before him, claiming the title of "Mrs. Shergill" with an audacity that made his blood boil.

But more than that, it was the reminder that she was now tied to him in a way he couldn't escape-not easily, not without consequences. And that reality, coupled with his hatred for her, felt suffocating. He was trapped, and her calling him "Mr. Shergill" was the chain tightening around his throat.

His eyes narrowed, glaring at her with a mixture of contempt and something deeper, something he didn't want to examine too closely. It was an infuriating mix of emotions-rage, frustration, and a grudging respect for her nerve, even though he'd never admit it. In that moment, he vowed that if she wanted to play this game, he would make sure she regretted ever stepping onto the field.

Glaring at her, he wondered if this marriage would be a war of attrition, a battle of wills that would leave them both scarred. But one thing was certain: he would not let her win.

"You don't worry, Mrs. Shergill" He added, the title once again dripping with sarcasm.

"I'll make sure you regret ever thinking you could play this game with me."

"Do. Not. Call. Me. That! Don't you dare call me that!" she repeated, her voice more controlled this time, but no less firm. Her eyes flared with anger. She hated that title more than anything.

Rakshit's glare intensified as he absorbed Drishti's defiance. The tension in the room was palpable, a silent battle raging between them. He could feel the heat of her breath, see the rapid rise and fall of her chest as she stood her ground, refusing to be intimidated. The proximity of their bodies only heightened the electricity in the air, an invisible line neither was willing to cross, yet neither could pull back from.

He came close again, to the point their foreheads touched, yet none of them made a move to look away.

"You know what.. I can and I WILL. I have the right to do so, Mrs. Shergill"

The title dripped with heart-filled hatred for her, which she didn't failed to notice.

For a moment, they stood there, glaring at each other, both of them too stubborn to back down, too hurt to see beyond their own pain. The room was thick with tension, the air heavy with unsaid words and unresolved emotions.

He turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, leaving Drishti standing there, her heart pounding and her mind racing. She watched him go, a mixture of guilt, fear, and defiance swirling in her chest. She had made her choice, and now she would have to live with the consequences. But as she stared at the closed door, she couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of something much darker, something that neither of them were prepared for.

The storm had only just begun.

━━༻❁༺━━

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Divya was busy making a midnight snack when Akshit walked in. "What are you making?" he asked, peering over her shoulder.

"Something you're not getting," Divya replied with a grin.

Akshit pouted. "Come on, Divya. Just a bite?"

Divya shook her head. "Nope. Make your own."

Akshit sighed dramatically. "You're so cruel."

Divya laughed, handing him a small plate. "Fine, here. But only because I don't want to hear you whine."

Akshit took the plate, giving her a mock bow. "As you say, your highness."

Divya rolled her eyes, playfully shoving him. "Get lost, Akshit."

"I'm already lost on you, Ms. Doctor."

"You know, Akshit, if you spent half as much time on your work as you do on your pathetic love life, you might actually be successful at something," Divya quipped, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.

Akshit rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. "And if you spent half as much time in the hospital as you do mocking me, you might actually save a life or two, Dr. Divya. But anyways, jaisi bhi ho, meri ho."

"Back off Romeo, I'm not falling for that." She turned her heels, walking away from him.

"The word "Romeo" never felt this good from someone's mouth until today." He dramatically said, keeping his face on both of him palms as he stared at her walking away.

Divya sighed and shook her head but a small smiled lingered on her face.

━━༻❁༺━━

The night ended with tensions high and the future uncertain. Drishti and Rakshit were bound together by fate and circumstance, their lives intertwined in ways they never imagined. The truth was out there, waiting to be uncovered. And as they stood on the brink of discovery, the stakes were higher than ever.

Drishti lay in bed, still in her red lehenga, but without the veil, unable to find sleep, her mind restless and tangled in the events that had just unfolded. Every time she closed her eyes, the weight of what had happened pressed down on her, keeping her awake and on edge.

As the night deepened, Drishti gazed at the ceiling, trying to steady her breathing. She had entered this marriage with her own agenda, but now, she was beginning to see that the path ahead was fraught with dangers she hadn't anticipated. And Rakshit Shergill was at the center of it all-a man who was now not just her enemy, but her husband, in a twisted game neither of them wanted to play.

But there was no turning back now. The challenge had been issued, and she had no choice but to see it through.

Rakshit sat by the pool alone, his emotions swirling in a storm of anger, hurt, and betrayal. The cool night air did little to soothe the fire burning within him. He stared into the water, lost in his turbulent thoughts.

They both were lost in the vast universe of their own thoughts which seemed to expand every passing second.

They both silently lay awake in the darkness, neither of them could find solace in their sleep.

But beyond the walls of their room, hidden in the shadows of the grand Shergill mansion, another pair of eyes was fixed on the newlyweds. Unseen and unnoticed, they watched with a calculating gaze, every detail absorbed with chilling precision. A sinister smile curled at the corners of their lips, as dark and twisted as the secrets they harbored.

This was a game they had been playing for a long time, one that Rakshit and Drishti had unknowingly stepped into. The observer's knowledge was a weapon, sharp and deadly, capable of slicing through the fragile peace that barely held the family together. They knew things-things that, if revealed, would unravel lives, shatter trust, and ignite a chaos that could not be contained.

In the silence of the night, while the mansion slept, this shadowy figure bided their time, the dark smile never leaving their face. They were patient, and patience was key. The secrets they held were like a ticking time bomb, waiting for the perfect moment to explode, leaving destruction in its wake.

And as Rakshit and Drishti lay lost in their own troubled thoughts, neither had any idea that their world was on the brink of collapse. The darkness held more than just the weight of their unresolved conflict-it held the promise of secrets that could destroy them both.

This was the start of a game which could end everything when exposed.