As they stepped into the vast hallway of the mansion, Samaira’s eyes scanned the surroundings, taking in the opulence and the sense of history in the walls. The atmosphere was heavy, not with warmth, but with the weight of old family secrets. The silence between them felt deafening, as if they were walking through a minefield, each step calculated and cautious.

Then, from across the room, Samaira saw her. Advait’s mother, a tall, graceful woman, stood with a soft smile. Her face was a reflection of the years she had spent in this house, the strength hidden beneath the layers of kindness she wore so easily. When her eyes met Advait’s, they softened, and she walked toward them with a sense of urgency, as though she couldn’t wait any longer.

“Advait,” she said, her voice filled with warmth, “I never thought I’d see the day you’d bring her here.” Then, to Samaira’s surprise, she opened her arms wide and embraced Advait tightly. “But I’m glad you did.”

Advait stiffened for a moment, caught off guard by the embrace. But he didn’t pull away. Instead, he stood there, unmoving, while his mother’s arms lingered around him. Samaira watched them both, her gaze flickering between the two. It was strange, seeing the softer side of Advait—the side he didn’t often show her. His mother seemed to sense her unease, and she pulled back, looking at Samaira with a kind smile.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve met,” she said gently. “But it’s good to see you again, Samaira.” Her tone held a note of genuine warmth, and Samaira couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief wash over her. A familiar face, someone who wasn’t calculating or cold, stood in front of her.

Samaira nodded, offering a small, hesitant smile. “Thank you for having me here,” she replied, trying to mask the nervousness that lingered in her chest. Seeing a familiar face—someone who wasn’t calculating or cold—was a relief, but it also made her realize how much she was about to have to face in this house.

As the exchange settled, Pramita stepped forward, her presence immediately filling the space. She gave Samaira an assessing look before turning to Advait. “You two must be tired from the journey. Go freshen up, and we’ll wait for you for dinner. We have a lot to talk about.” Her tone was polite, but it was clear there was something more behind her words—an unspoken agenda, perhaps.

She gestured toward a servant who stood waiting nearby. “Show them to their room.”

Advait’s expression immediately darkened. “I may not visit this house often, but I know my way around,” he replied coldly, his voice sharp.

Samaira, sensing the tension, quickly jumped in, her tone light and teasing. “Oh, he’s just joking. He’s a bit tired from the journey, but he’s trying to play the perfect husband for me.” She looked up at Advait with a grin, but there was no mistaking the underlying tension in her voice.

Vikram, who had been standing silently off to the side, chuckled. “We’re all used to his cold behavior by now,” he said with a hint of sarcasm. “But it’s more than a pleasure to have you both here.” His eyes lingered on Samaira for a moment, and then he turned to Advait. “It's good to see the family together again, even if it’s under... unusual circumstances.”

Samaira smiled politely, trying to mask her discomfort. Vikram’s words were sharp, and his tone suggested that there was more beneath the surface, something he wasn’t saying. She had already begun to understand that everyone here wore masks, hiding their true feelings behind carefully constructed facades.

As the servant led them down the hallway, Advait’s gaze never wavered. Samaira walked beside him, still trying to absorb the complexity of the situation they found themselves in. The family, each one of them, held pieces to a puzzle she had yet to fully understand.

They reached the room that would be theirs for the night. It was lavishly decorated, but Samaira felt a strange disconnect from it, as though the beauty of the space didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. What mattered was the storm that was brewing just beneath the surface.

Once inside, Advait closed the door behind them. He looked at Samaira, his expression unreadable. She met his gaze, waiting for him to speak.

“I didn’t expect it to be like this,” he said finally, his voice low. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been here. I’d almost forgotten how it feels.”

Samaira nodded, her fingers absently touching the edge of the elegant table in the room. “I can’t imagine how it must be for you,” she said softly. “But we’ll get through this, right?”

Advait’s eyes softened, but just for a moment. “I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you, Samaira. But be careful. This family doesn’t show their true faces easily.”

Samaira smiled slightly, her voice playful. “I’m used to dealing with masks. I think I’ll be fine.”

Advait didn’t respond, but the look he gave her said everything. She was the one person he could trust in this house, and he wasn’t going to let anything happen to her. They both knew the road ahead was uncertain, but together, they would face whatever came their way.

Dinner awaited them downstairs, and the first test of many was about to begin.