⭐New⭐ Arhi FF | Iss Darr Ko Kya Naam Doon: Chapter 3 - Part 3/3 (75%) - Page 4

The story so far is so good! I'm glad I came across it. Can't wait to see where this is going.

Chapter 3 | Fashion Show: Part 3/3

Arnav's phone rang for the tenth time in a row.

He gave a swift glance towards where it was kept, on a sitting bench across the other end of his hotel's gym.

Then quickly as if it would come alive and swallow him whole, he looked away and focused on covering his miles for the day on the treadmill. Though very little effort was being made to keep track of the numbers and more of the attention was being paid on running like a panther was chasing him.

Eleventh ring.

Arnav increased his speed in response.

His lithe form sweating through his tight fitting black t-shirt like he had been doused in a bucket of water.

Hands almost blurring out in coordination with the legs, his calve muscles straining, breath coming out in short fast spurts and sweat dripping from forehead. Yet he kept pushing and pushing and pushing, letting a loud grunt out through the twelvth ring.

He stared at his phone again at the thirteenth ring as he let his heaving breath reduced to a slow controlled deep breathing.

He drew in one last breath to exhale a long swearing breath "fuuuuuuuuu**k" he groaned and stalked up to the phone with a frown on his and exasperation in his soul, knowing exactly who had been calling him fourteen times back to back!

"Di" Arnav said, annoyance lacing his tone - as a way of greeting his sister.

"Where the hell have you been Arnav??" blasted through his phone.

Oh she was mad mad if the usage of his official first name is to be noted.

"Sorry I was busy" Arnav replied dialing down his annoyed tone to zero, hoping it would suffice for her go easy on him.

"I am serious Arnav, I thought we have come far from the days where you would take some accountability and address a very fair concern goddamn straight without first trying to evade it."

Arnav could swear he had never heard her sister seething like that since the time when she had confronted their uncle.

There was a rough edge to her tone.

Perhaps he should address the topic he was really trying to evade discussing with his sister since the past 40 minutes, "Di" Arnav gave in, his voice softening.

"What's happening? Why am I seeing on the news that we are having the fashion show at Shastri Nivas - Sheesh Mahal? And please tell me I am hearing it wrong that we - you bought Sheesh Mahal back?? EXPLAIN YOURSELF. NOW," she demanded. Her voice softening a tinge as she then added "You are okay right?"

"I will be" he said his voice lowering to a whisper, not wanting to talk about it but not wanting to lie about it either. "Di please allow me to explain okay?"

"Bhai mere kya keh rahin hoon main jab se" she prompted impatiently. Arnav knew better than to argue with her when she was testy like that.

"The rumours are true" Arnav shared in resignation, taking a seat on the bench with legs astride on either sides, grabbing a lavendar scented towel from a jute beside it. Wiping the sweat off his face he said "I bought back Sheesh Mahal from...Chacha Ji." Arnav's mouth twisted in distaste at that term of deference he had once used for his uncle.

Anjali remained quiet for awhile making Arnav almost believe that she had hung up.

"Tell me everything" she finally replied. This time Arnav didn't hesitate in divulging everything, save for the reasons(or rather lack of them) that had lead to this decision and what happened in his Ma's secret garden.

Di surprisingly didn't push him for it either.

But Arnav knew her well enough to know that it was because she wanted to drill him in-person. She also, as Arnav noticed, seemed to be in a worrisome state that felt beyond what he had expected her to be in for this situation.

Could it be that their past still affected her just as much as it did to him?

Or was it something else?

It was disconcerting to think that there could be any fissure in her invincibility.

"Arnav? Arnav? I swear to God if you have dropped the call on me right now -" his Di warned him.

"Sorry no I was..thinking something. You were saying" he immediately prompted.

"Are you sure you are okay?" she said concern lacing her borderline aggressive tone.

"Are YOU okay? Don't you think you are acting a bit too on the edge?" sitting straight on the bench his brow wrinkled as he continued a little reluctantly, "Why do I get the feeling that you are upset because of something else as well?" he asked, voicing his thoughts ultimately.

"You think I am overreacting?? This IS such a big deal Arnav, you know the convoluted legal gymnastics Shyam and I have played over the years to ensure that man remained out of our lives? The least you could do was to inform me before going ahead with this decision - for the sake of our family's safety let alone as a courtesy!!!"

He winced slightly at that insinuation.

"Yes Di" Arnav tried to placate her "Why do you think I consulted our lawyers, ofcourse I care for our family's safety before anything else."

"Not this time apparently" his sister pointed without missing a beat, "Just please tell me you got the papers cross-checked by our lawyers" Anjali asked, the rough edge in her voice coming back.

"Why are you phrasing it like that? I just told you I consulted our lawyers -" he replied acutely.

"Just answer me dammit. Yes or No?" Anjali cut him. Talk about trust. Which to be fair Arnav couldn't speak much for himself but this double checking seemed a little too disproportionate of a vigilance. Granted his uncle had - has(based on what he learnt recently) connections in mafia, but he had been thorough in the litigation work and they have world class lawyers on board who have carefully examined every word and clause of the contract. What could it be exactly that has gotten his sister in such distress?

"Yes" Arnav carefully replied, concern dawning over him.

"Good. Now, don't make any other major decisions that could possibly be affecting other people's lives please" she begged softly in a voice that sound so weary that he decided to let the insult slide.

"No..please..this is too much faith" he replied dryly before reminding, "Did you get your tickets? Your flight is scheduled for today."

A curt "ofcourse I got it" is all he got.

"I am sorry okay.......I will see you at the show?" Arnav asked desperate to offer an olive branch. He hated when they fought like this.

"You know you will, how could you even ask such a silly question" she finally melted cutting him some slack. "You better get your a** to my hotel when I land there!!!!" she added.

Arnav couldn't be more glad for this divergence.

"You know we have the same hotel, right?" he asked, simply to tease.

"I know you little a**hole but you know what I mean!"

Arnav rolled his eyes with a small smile on his face and confirmed "Yeah yeah I will be there, now go back to your pati parmeshwar. Tell him I said hi."

"Haan theek hai. Bye" came a distracted reply.

"Bye" he cut the call dreading their upcoming conversation already.

Arnav got up stretching his neck side to side, to finish the last bit of his workout - boxing.

As he strapped on the gloves in prep, a nagging feeling settled in his gut.

He couldn't stop wondering about his Di's reaction to the news. As much as it was understandable, he couldn't not take notice of the intensity of it. His gut was saying that there could possibly be something more.

He suddenly wished he had more to do at work tomorrow. Everything was ready and in-line with his company's planning for the event.

And these line of thoughts were not helping the purpose of his late night visit to the gym.

After leaving the Mahal's premises, he had gone straight to the upcoming event's venue: Shastri Nivas Guest House, in whose backyard a ginormous glass framed tent-like structure was constructed for the event. He went to monitor the safety check for these decorative features, like the 200 jhoomars(chandelier) of varying sizes hanging from - or rather weighing down the ceiling of the aforementioned glass tent at varying heights. They were all suspended across the ramp and were programmed to glow in sync with the music - a bit his set designer had suggested for the grand reveal of his coveted show stopper design piece. The grand finale of his show that has remained secret from everyone, even Sheetu. Just for fittings, he had highly confidential contractual meetings set up with his showstopper Karina Shehriyar and a special tailoring team of five, just to try out his special piece for the finale.

The audience seating was arranged in a stadium seating style to accomodate about 3000 guests that have rsvpd so far. The after-party was supposed to be at the same venue but selected 500 of those guests were invited with VIP privileges, so the guest house's banquet hall sufficed and was easier to arrange. Aman was away touring different countries, networking with their vendors and investors of the international markets. It's been a year since he saw him outside the screens of the digital devices. Meanwhile Sheetal had been tirelessly working with Arnav to produce the bridal design looks for a 200 model line up.

He had also thoroughly gone through every detail of the events for the next day leading upto the fashion show: The final dress rehearsals, pre-show press events, interviews and all the logistics pertaining to the event branding, music, entertainment, guest lodging+experience and not to forget the million reels filmed for the social media marketing(which was painful to say the least, but Arnav survived).

The internet was abuzz with the simultaneous news coverage of Sheesh Mahal's takeover and celebrities/influencers gushing on their social media posts about their invites received for the Raizada fashion show of its history.

Dulhan - e - Hindoostan.

The Bride of India.

An amalgamation of all the cultures from all four corners of India - regardless of religion, caste or creed. It's what he believes the country he knows stands for and it's what he wanted to communicate to the world that his brand represents, as it transitions to the international horizons.

Powerful statement it would be, as an ode to the country he grew up in - no matter the years he had spent away for education. Even regardless of the fact that he had been born into the privileged life of aristocracy.

A statement that was also expected to draw a lot of attention and critique from the public and media.

Which he was more than ready for.

What he was not looking forward to was the nuisance of dealing with targeted political campaigns that he had been informed/warned by his team that he will have to be facing. Nothing that he was afraid of really because he knew it was all bully shove on internet and other media platforms but based on the case studies he had gone through with his team, it appears to be draining to tackle them and get the narrative back under control.

His accountant had been informed to calculate and prepare a special budget for spending on counter-acting these campaigns.

PR in his country was far from simple for him due to the networth and influence him and his label posed as a potential threat to the locally reigning political personalities. Threat to what - he wasn't sure either. Might as well join politics he had thought at one point, what with the amount of chessplay they had been doing in the past year just so the sources of these targeted attacks couldn't use his Nawaabi ancestry or his secularly harmless and culturally inclusive event in a personal attempt to represent everything and everyone that is the best of his own country, in the best of lights and not to be - ironically named anti-nationalist for it! It's unfairly restrictive in practice to be patriotic to this country in actual ways that really matter.

So much for freedom of speech, let alone freedom of personal expression!

So far, his team had done a good job of nudging the news and social media coverage mainly towards the fashion show and other news regarding Sheesh Mahal that would facilitate the strategic reveal of his royal ancestry during the show, like how his uncle had been 'possibly' responsible for his parents' death, his long standing debts, and how he threw his own niece and nephew out of the house for the purpose of stealing the property that was rightfully theirs. Ofcourse, none of those included or even remotely hinted that he was going to purchase Sheesh Mahal, given how even Arnav himself didn't know until two days ago that he was going to do that but Arnav could already see a potential in that piece of information to further his goals.

The tidbits of information that they tried to amplify were nothing that people hadn't already suspected before, making it easy to do nudge those beliefs.

This whole ordeal with social media has been an eye-opener as well.

Arnav believed himself to be a fairly strong man who despite his occasional mental health struggles was mostly unfazed by anything that life throws at him but he would be sh*tting if he said that he wasn't terrified of the prospects of the power this kind of publicity would allow its wielder to get away with - if mis-used. This learning experience was humbling beyond what he had anticipated, seeing why ethics and effective accountability in enforcing those ethics is so important. That's why he had the campaign processes strictly monitored, ensuring the motivation for their PR campaigning always stuck true to its purpose - nothing less and nothing more than what they needed.

With everything set in the design department, he had been actively avoiding Sheetal that day since the woman had the seventh sense of hyper-sensitive emotion detection.

She wouldn't sit still till he confessed what was bothering him, and he needed himself to first be able to process everything on his own before he would talk to anyone.

It was stressful enough to have to think about his impending conversation with Di and all the heavy questioning it might entail. A consequence of his own ministrations neverthless a frightening task at hand.

So, even though he probably could have explained to Sheetu that he needs space to figure it out but barely having enough mental energy to focus on anything that he wasn't already working towards since the past year(say fashion show) he couldn't get himself to even consider communicating those needs to his best friend.

And Aman was working on a whole different timeline to do some of the translation for him.

So around mid-night when sleep evaded him, he phoned in the hotel's front desk to request for a private pass to use the hotel's gym that was understandablely closed at the ungodly hour. Little effort was required once he name dropped himself with no semblance of guilt that he usually possessed when asking such privileged favours. He was desperate to work off the jittery energy that had been coursing through him the whole day.

Hence, it was 2:00am and here he was, going at the punching bag with kicks and sucker punches.

Once the jittery energy wore off, as he settled into a rythmic routine of hitting the bag with back to back jabs, his mind kept drifting off occasionally to the events of the morning.

Seeing Sheesh Mahal for the first time in fifteen years.

*punch*

The palace and the entire property's state of disarray.

*punch* *punch*

The disgusting amount of money he had just spent purchasing it.

*punch*

The meeting with his uncle.

*kick* *punch* *punch*

The petty game of power struggle he had lowered himself to participate in.

*punch*

The papers....was he making a mistake?

*punch* *punch*

His Di became nearly hysterical about those papers.

*punch*

He should probably get them checked by his Jeeja Ji just in case. Then he remembered his experience going back to his Ma's garden.

*incessant punching*

Crossing the jungle to get to it.

*incessant punching*

The pine trees on the way.

*incessant punching*

The memories that were triggered by his mother's heart-shaped key.

*incessant punching*

The relief at finding out that the place remained unbothered and perhaps even undiscovered all these years.

*incessant punching*

His emotional breakdown.

*incessant punching*

The unprecedented feeling of healing when he let himself feel it all.

*incessant punching*

The realisation of how much the place meant to him inspite of the horrors he had witnessed on his last day there.

*punching stopped*

No! he thought, heaving loudly while swallowing large gulps of air, tilting his head up to prevent cramps and ignoring the burn pulsing through his arms at the non-stop exertion.

He had decided, as he continued with the punches, that he didn't do anything wrong. His worst crime in this would be to not keep his Di in the loop.

He was still half-convinced about his impulse-driven decision to purchase Sheesh Mahal but at least he felt surer than before. Or perhaps it's time to show his face to his lovely therapist afterall and get himself cured of this delusion. He released a sigh of frustration.

Giving a last firm punch, making the bag sway hard towards the stand getting it stuck in its nook, he turned to leave the gym.

"....Lucknow's very own....Khushi Kumari Gupta!" the announcer's smooth baritone voice reverberated across the glass tent inciting a huge roar of cheering further hyped up by the intense bass of remixed popular Indian wedding song.

Arnav's body tensed.

That was not his showstopper.

His perfectionist self had attended literally every single one of the rehearsals to the point of unwillingly memorizing the choreography, the music, the cues and even the first names of their 200 models! So he knew for a fact that the model walking on the stage is not someone they recruited. Even if there was a last minute replacement that must have happened he would have been definitely informed. He was f*cking wearing a earpiece for cues and these types of information.

He knew he shouldn't have listened to the stage director of his show who thought having him seated in the audience section and making him blend amongst them would create a moment of cheeky surprise adding a memorable sort of intrigue when he gets up among them. It doesn't hurt that the bit would provide opportunities to churn extra content for social media, Arnav had remarked. But the main reason why Arnav agreed to the pointless theatrics was that he would get a chance to first hand experience his show as an audience, allowing him to get a more nuanced feedback and perspective on the show's reception. That idea help convince him that it was worth suffering through the theatrical flair that was being forced upon him.

Thankfully there wasn't much to do. Once the showstopper made her walk, his audience disguise would be revealed with a spotlight and an introduction announcement.

He would then get up, probably greet/bow/wave (based on his comfort level in that moment) and take the stairs purposely fitted right infront of his seat on the first row so he can get on the stage and do the routine he is used to: walk with the showstopper, take a bow and leave with the showstopper for the backstage.

This time however, he would be making a speech that was carefully scripted with the help of his joint PR team and thoroughly cross-checked by his lawyers. Because he was going to be revealing his Lucknowi royalty ancestry during it.

He had rehearsed this modified routine enough times to know that something was amiss. He was supposed to be informed of this change well before it was executed. He understood the importance of spontaneity but that doesn't mean that he loved it anymore than it being a professional hazhard, something to endure tactfully until he figured out a more permanent solution.

He was NOT happy with any of this.

The woman to her credit though did an excellent job commanding her presence on the stage. The posture, movement and posing perfectly in sync with the music's timing. Her expression though was less monotonous than the models were ought to be tonight, as per his show's director. But she carried herself so well, that the overall performance was vastly better than what the actual showstopper rehearsed. The model currently onstage wasn't the most awfully gorgeous woman out there with impeccably perfect cosmetical features (which was fine by him because it's a matter of choice) but she was nothing short of a looker either. That thought was immediately followed by Arnav wondering if he was too old or too young for thinking the word looker to describe someone beautiful.

The point was that she could pass as a professional model in the most conventional standards. Not his first choice, if her headshot was given. But he would have still been fine to have her as his showstopper replacement EXCEPT she wasn't wearing the outfit he had actually designed for this grand finale!!!!! He couldn't believe how Sheetu could have let this happen. She was especially supposed to be looking out for such situations. For f*cksake he had the labels and everything done and delivered the actual outfit with specific instructions.

It was all he could do to not get up and stomp off towards the backstage to check what in the holy f*cking world was really happening on his show.

He didn't work his a** off the entire year for it to be handed back to him like this. This was absolutely unacceptable to him, least of all being an insult to his integrity and craft!

The woman was parading around as his showstopper in a design that was not even a Raizada, and she had the audacity to look good doing it. Not to mention the comments he heard in praise of the hoax showstopper outfit - especially with the way she was carrying it and herself.

"Look at that little detailing on her waistline, the intricate beadwork on the blouse and the interlaced strings under her bust. So sexyyyyyy"

"Yeah the work and silhoutte of the blouse is accentuating her boobs so well"

"It's giving maharani is here"

"The color is such a bold choice for a wedding lehenga, ASR really left no stone unturned"

"This fit is IT"

"Exquisite lehenga"

"The satin skirt is everything"

"My GOD I would kill to look like that!!"

"SO GORGEOUS I think I am going to cryyyy"

"How is she moving so elegantly in that breathtaking monstrosity!?"

He had to admit - however grudgingly that the design she was wearing well resonated with the branding of his show. Further augmented by her expressions and body language it oozed charm, elegance and she couldn't be more in sync with their show's theme.

He found himself getting furious at these thoughts. It was outrageous that he should have to face such an insult but be unable to do anything about it. None of this was okay. His staff will so be hearing about it. But not wanting to further derail the schedule for the day since the reputation of a multi-billion dollar expansion was hanging on the line, he stayed glued to his seat and waited his turn to be called on-stage.

To his bad luck, even that was not in his fate today apparently.

The woman, when returning back looked at him and funnily it was the same moment when the song had a beat drop, making it look like her posing - with her ghoonghat now up - was showing the perfect balance of innocence and defiance of modern woman. And judging by the way she moved, Arnav was ready to bet his entire billion dollar fortune that the model was a trained dancer. If he didn't know any better he would be transfixed by her every movement, like the people around him were until for whatever reason it was, her eyes fell on him and her posture became ever so discomfited.

Perhaps because he was staring back at her trying to size her up and figure out what could be the motive here really. How could she have gotten in? Why is she doing this? Who's outfit is she wearing? Could it....? Could it... possibly be that his uncle had something to do with this?

Arnav was officially pissed off. He was suddenly distracted by the loud roar erupting in the audience as everyone started getting up for a standing ovation.

He had to get up too for the disguise's sake.

For F*ck's sake he wanted to say.

He perhaps should try to play along but hearing the compliments only worsened his anger. He needed to head to the backstage and figure out what really happened to cause such a big blunder and who caused it. He was not going to have it. Someone was getting fired that day.

So he hastily got up and moved towards the stage so he can take a right from there; in the direction of the backstage area.

This movement seemed to have startled the model who twisted on her right foot and literally fell on top of him. Instinctively, he couldn't let her fall on the ground so he angled himself to catch her.

She was bunched tight in her arms, one hand clinging to his shirt's lapel, the bow tie of his tux turned to the side.

He was too aware of the way she was clinging on to him and all the eyes in the room that were fixated on them.

Earlier, he was planning to cancel his intro but having the showstopper fall off stage during the grand finale was even worse than the model not even wearing the designated Raizada outfit.

Arnav couldn't believe his bad luck that evening. All he wanted to was to chuck the woman off his arms and interrogate her for details but the situation and whatever was left of his rational brain insisted for a level-headed response. He wasn't going to let the show become part of any form of ridicule, he HAD to salvage the situation before it got even worse somehow.

His gut instinct spurred on and he rode on it to seize the moment to his benefit. She was squirming to get out of his hold so he requested, "Wait, don't move. Stay still for awhile...please." Though his mood was far from making requests, he made the exception requiring the so called model to be cooperative out of her own will for his plan to work.

Actually he could probably force her to do his bidding since she was the culprit here but it was much easier and faster if she was willing to follow his lead.

He somehow forced himself to smirk and appear calm like he knew it was going to happen.

His earpiece in right ear buzzed. It was his company's head stylist and best friend.

"ASR its me Sheetal, your intro is pre-poned, we will be proceeding with it right now. Put her down and both of you move to the stage."

The model, looked up at him with a wierd face. Is she trying to pin where she saw me? Is she even supposed to be here?

"I repeat, put her down and move to the stage right now. Cue for your intro in 3...2..1"

"Ladies and Gentleman.....the designer of the hour.....the man himself....the King of Indian Fashion......in flesh the ASR: Mr. Arnav Singh Raizada"

The entire space went dark except for the spotlight that was highlighting him and the model.

But his mind was set on the solution that his mind began brewing - partly thanks to all the months spent co-ordinating with his joint PR. He knew just the thing that will work.

This time, to his luck, the woman's face was flushed a deep shade of red as she looked up at him again.

He looked around to find the way to the stairs and moved towards it with the biggest sh*t eating grin he could muster.

The audience started whooping and cheering as he climbed on to it. He held on tight to the woman in his arms as he climbed the stairs and got on the stage. A sweet smell of jasmine scent wafted towards him as shifted her to set her on the stage. He didn't think too much of it except it felt like the moment he may re-visit later, why exactly? He didn't know.

Putting her down, he took her right hand in his. They were soft and cold. So very cold. Her composure was also beginning to break a little.

He bent down and strategically hovered his lips as close to her ear as possible, to give the impression of an intimate conversation........or may be more?

Perhaps he was whispering sweet nothings in her ear? Who's to say?

He purposefully angled his head in a way that he knew that most of the women liked - atleast the ones that he had dated or been with. It was something to do with the feeling of being so close giving off the center of his attention apparently, was what they liked. Arrogant much? he imagined Sheetu saying.

He was betting on the audience's nosy tendencies and interest of intrigue with these exchanges to keep them distracted long enough for him to finish the show and figure out a way out of the upcoming PR disaster.

He just needed to make this a bigger news than the one where the model falls off the stage of the Raizada's fashion show.

For that he needed her to be on the same page as him. It would not be effective if it appeared one-sided.

He also needed her relaxed, judging by the cold slimy hand in his. The woman seemed to be shaken to the core after the fall incident.

So, amid the cacophony of extremely loud cheering from the crowd, thumping beats of the Bollywood score from the very famous SRK movie, he found himself encouraging her with a whispered "It's alright. Just keep walking."

To Arnav's luck, she listened. He looked around smiling at everyone, thanking them for their compliments and support. Then turned to the woman beside him and smiled at her...almost too fondly than people would consider platonic.

If his plan would have to work, they needed to maintain this ruse of 'something more' throughout their walk; the ruse of what he was trying to insinuate with his intimate conduct.

Thankfully, seeming to have caught up on what he was really trying to do here, she looked up at his smiling face and after a small moment of scrutiny she grinned back at him. Arnav hoped she would play along with him. But what happened next was something Arnav hadn't anticipated. He could distinctly remember every moment, that Jasmine scent hit him like a blast of wind at his face. He knew he was getting a little distracted yet it was as if his mind had some kind of hold on his body. His rough palm scraped against her soft one when he adjusted his grip on her hand trying to fend himself off of whatever it is that he was experiencing in that moment. But unfortunately it only heightened the sensations that seemed to have had him arrested.

Heat emanated through his hand that was joined with hers, his face..he didn't know what he was doing anymore. His jaw slackened and for a second he wondered if he was transported to a different dimension where time stood still. An electric jolt racked through him as his eyes stayed glued on her smiling face for what felt like an eternal period of time. It could even have been seconds that felt like hours for all he knew. He vaguely registered the camera flashes that began shuttering non-stop since the moment she smiled back at him.

Did he really say that she was a looker and her looks were conventional?

Her nose crinkled as she smiled, he noticed. She had the darkest eyes he had ever seen, he could see the lights from the chandeliars above reflecting in them, winking in and out smoothly on beat with bass thumps of the music track playing. Arnav was suddenly reminded of twinkling of stars in the backdrop of a dark moonless night. A zing went across his spine. He didn't realize he had it in him to be reminded of poetry....

What the f*ck? he sweared internally trying to shake his thoughts and zoom in on his surroundings.

It was all he could do to tear his eyes away from her and remember to focus on the task at hand. He refused to acknowledge that he got distracted a moment ago. That he probably couldn't remember his own name.

Realizing that he was staring at her unabashed, he smiled again.

Tugging her a little closer, he continued walking by her side and waved to his audience before giving a final bid and thanks at the end of the stage. If he were to give the thank you speech that was carefully embedded with his ancestral background announcement as per his rehearsed routine, he was supposed to be doing that right then.

But Arnav could feel it in his gut that it was not the right time given the unforeseen incidents that have during the show.

So, he decided to skip it.

The remixed version of the bollywood song ended with the lyric

'Qubool hai'

'Mujhe bhi'

The audience roared again, hooting and wolf-whistling when they had looked at each other smiling teeth to teeth at the last lyric like it was them who were saying that to each other. Arnav was glad and a little concerned by this reaction wondering if he went too far in adding too much fodder to the gossip machines that are entertainment media.

Still holding the woman's hand, he reached the backstage, eyes searching for his bestfriend of ten years and his company's head stylist, Ms Sheetal Khanna.

The rest of the models were getting in line to make a final showcase of his collection, one of his stage coordinators signalling cues for them with another walkie-talkie.

He finally spotted Sheetal standing amongst a huddle of his staff and crew. When she glanced towards him right at the moment, she stopped discussing whatever the h*ll there was to talk about after the sh*tshow that was the grandfinale, and rushed to him.

He barely managed to snag the audience and press's attention from realizing the model was not the one slated to be a showstopper, not to mention the model falling off stage and him trying to make it look like it was a planned segment. The PR team was in for an extra shift today to make that look believable.

"What the actual f*ck happened dude?????" he burst on her taking her to the side.

"Arni-ASR I know we have gone a little off-script there with the model but you have to listen to me, we had a situation and a good reason to do this, which I will tell you about soon because first you need to go out there again for a final bow. Nayan(their stage director) said it will be the perfect moment for your 'speech slash reveal'. So you need to forget everything that has happened for a few more minutes and get done with the show before we can discuss about anything else," she begged

Arnav opened his mouth to respond until his gaze fell on the model - what was her name? Khushi Kumari Gupta, standing a dozen feet behind Sheetal, seemed to be observing everything that was happening around her. Just like that his patience snapped.

"I don't give a f*ck about the final walk on stage and as for the speech, it's not the right time, especially after the stunt I had to pull tonight to save our show's face from negative publicity so it will not be happening today" he nearly snapped and walked towards the woman with a determined expression. He grabbed her by the arm and started dragging her to a more secluded place.

He ignored Sheetal's pleas behind him "ASR! ASR!"

Arnav couldn't remember the last time he was this angry, all he could think in that moment was how everything that had happened during the show was going to factor into his brand's image and publicity. They had to painfully navigate the media landscape all these past months only for it to now face the danger of it all being completely smashed due to some silly negligences! Arnav wasn't sure that he won't kill his uncle if he found out that he was behind some elaborate plan for sending this woman.

His high speed stride went on till he reached his until he felt resistance from the woman who reprimanded sternly "Haath chhodiye!!!!” digging her heels into the floor. It wasn't until then that he realised what he was really doing.

“Kya kar rahe hain AAP?" the woman yelled at him, echoing his thoughts. He let her go immediately, moving two steps back.

It was disconcerting to have someone outside his family and bestfriends scold him like that.

His gaze briefly went to her nose, the nose stud embedded moving as her nostrils flared.

"Tameez se pesh aiyiye zara! Arey, aise hi kisi bhi ladki ka haath haq se pakad lenge kya aap? Had mein rahiye!” she scolded in that lucknowi accent that he was so familiar with by now, since he landed.

He felt incredibly shameful. As crude as his demeanor could be occasionally during times of extreme stress and disorder, he considered his tactics to be fairly reasonable and himself as a man of boundaries. He couldn't dare imagine that he would cross other's physical boundaries like that to grab and drag them like he just did. He was never more ashamed of his behavior.

“Sorry, mera woh intention nahin tha. Main tumhe hurt nahin karunga. I assure you” he apologized. He raised his hands up in what he hoped to convey an acknowledgment of his mistake.

But he had completely valid set of questions to ask and answers to dig, so he could find the truth. Arnav 's gut never lied and right now it was telling him that she wasn't even an actual model. So he straightened himself and proceeded in a reasoning tone.

"Tumhe pata hai na mere show mein aakar, kisi aur ka design pehene hue tumhara showstopper banna is not normal and something to applaud,” Arnav began with his inquiry.

His face got serious after that as he uttered in a menacingly low voice, "So forgive me if I lose my sh*t when you try to hijack a show very important to my brand and company."

Arnav tried and failed to reign his anger building up.

"Did you really think I won't find out yeh mera design nahin hai?" The audacity this woman had to walk in like she owned this place and did she really expect nobody would find out. Somewhere in a more reasonable part of his brain, it did occur to him to perhaps lead this conversation by giving the accused a benefit of doubt. But it had been a long f*cking day and a trying one at that, he didn't have the energy to muster the patience any more.

He decided to cut to the chase and went offensive with an entourage of questions, perhaps a little personal even.

"Ho kaun tum Khushi Kumari Gupta? Kya samajhti ho apne aap ko? Kise bewakoof bana rahi ho? Kiski dress peheni hai tumne? Kisne bheja hai tumhe? I will not physically hurt you but don't think for one second that I can't press charges of sabotage. Who are you wearing? Bolo!” he pressed while he scrutinized her face for any signs that would give her intentions away.

He knew that she realized what he was attempting, frighten her into submission. And he could tell that she hated that he had been successful in doing so.

“Ek minute, ek minute!" she said in a rushed breath triying to calm him down, "Yeh kya bol rahein hain aap? Hum ghalati se yahan pahunche the. Humein toh asal mein Shaastri Nivas jaana tha. Woh ek shaadi ka ghar hai. Humare hone wale jeeja ji se milna tha."

Interesting, Arnav thought. How did she mistake this place for a wedding home? Naam sahi hai but location ghalat? What is she on to? Now that he began to think of it, it doesn't make sense for anyone to actually present their design as theirs on his show. Wouldn't that kind o actually discredit their brand image? Especially with Arnav's ruthless reputation, he knew for a fact that no one in the industry would dare pull a stunt like that. Arnav decided to make it seem like he actually beleived someone tried to sabotage the show for exposure. Choosing the tactics of misdirection to extract the truth. His gut said that his uncle had something to do with this, with what he didn't know but he was determined to find out.

The model..Khushi Kumari Gupta was standing there, face contorted with worry.

Arnav was annoyed at the blatant attempt at the lie. She really thought she will bluff her way out of this situation. Shastri Nivas mein khadi hui aur wahan jaane ki baath kar rahi hai.

"Yeh tumhe shaadi ka ghar lagta hai?" he asked baffled at the ridiculnous of this situation.

"Dholki geet ki awaaz aarahi thi yahan se toh humein laga yeh unka ghar hoga. Humein kya patah tha aapke show ka theme hi wedding hai” she argued.

Wait, what? Arnav was confused now. “Tumhe dholki geet awaaz aayi aur tumne samjha ki shaadi ka ghar hai. Tumhare ghar ki shaadi hai aur behen ke sasural ka ghar patah nahin?"

Does she think this he was stupid? He will not have her undermine his intellegience in his face. Someone needed to be called out.

"Aur even if tumhe shaadi ka ghar laga toh tumne kisi ko kuch bataya kyun nahi. Agar tum sach mein galti se yahan aayi hoti toh mere crew -us se bhi pehle security ko pata chal jatha unless tumne jaan boojh kar koi saazish rachane ki koshish ki thi mere Chach-”

The woman cut him off before he could explicitly accuse her of paid sabotage by his uncle, “Nahin nahin! Hum toh khule aam gate se andar aaye the. Kisi ne humein nahin roka. Balki koi tha hi nahin gate ke paas. Aur humne aapke ke crew ko batane ki koshish ki thi, lekin yeh sab is tarah yun ek minute ke andar hua ki humein mauka nahin mila, woh dusri lady kehrahi thi ki models ki list kisi Shindey Bhai ke paas hai aur jab tak unse baath ho payegi show khatam ho jayega. Aur phir woh asli showstopper bhi toh nahin mil rahi thi, toh woh shayad usme invested the notice karne ke liye - ”

Arnav growled in shock and anger "WHAT? What do you mean nahin mil rahi thi? She was supposed to be here dammit! She was here in fact. Main khud usse shaam ko mila for final fitting.......khair" he looked back at her, regret and suspicion rising within him "Woh toh mein baad mein dekhlunga lekin pehle tum se nipatloon” The woman suddenly took notice of where they were, a new sense of urgency taking over her, like she was planning to run away as she scanned her surroundings.

“Dekhiye, hum maante hain ki jaane anjaane mein humse galti hui hai, humein yoon hi stage par nahin jana chahiye tha. Show aapka hai, kisi aur ka design koi aur showstopper pe achha nahi lagta, but aap fikr math kijiye kisi ko kuchh nahin pata chala." She thought and amended "Except woh *finger snapping while trying to recollect* white chiffon sari wali madam humein kheench kar joh andar le aayi thi," Arnav's irration spiked another level, ofcourse Sheetal had to be the one to drag this mess into his show, "Unko chhodkar kisi ko koi andaza nahin hai. Aur hum aap se vada karte hum kisi ko kuchh nahin batayenge! Devi Mayya ki kasam!”

The fervor in her vow to Devi Mayya reminded Arnav of his sister on the day of his parent's death, when she made him promise to try to forget his parent's death as something of god's will.

".....Devi Mayya ki marzi samajh kar bhoolne ki koshish karna" his Di had begged him.

When he realized where his thoughts went, it made him furious at the woman at him, he couldn't care in that moment that it was perhaps misdirected, he was insanely mad at her making him remember it “Tumne jiska pehna hua hai na.." his head tilted slightly with a piercing stare holding warning in them "..usey jakar kehdo ki yeh akhri baar Arnav Singh Raizada ke show ki taaliyon ki awaaz yaad rakhle kyun ki iske baad use apne show par uski goonj tak nahin sunayi degi. I am going to destroy them. Got it?”

However the warning didn't have the desired effect on her. She seemed to be getting offended at it. The audacity of this women!

"Uff thoda zyada dramatic nahin hogaya?" she retorted, her expression judging and sarcastic "matlab taaliyon ki awaaz yaad rakhle etc etc aisa sirf filmon mein hi accha lagta hai"

Arnav's nostrils flared but before he could incinerate her, she decided to take the high way and just cut down to business. It was about time she cleared the air.

“Dekhiye, jaise ki humne pehle bhi kaha, humein yahan kisi ne nahin bheja. Hum ghalati se yahan pahunch gaye! Yeh humne banaya hai. Aur humein koi credit nahin chahiye iska”

"Tumne kaha aur maine maan liya"

"Toh phir pooch kyun rahein hai aap!"

"Main sach sunna chahta hoon!"

"Sach yehi hai ki hum kho gaye the"

"Main kehta hoon jhooth hai"

"Keh lijiye, jo lagta woh hota nahin hai"

"Yeh toh main tumhare baare mein bhi keh sakta hoon"

"What is wrong with you? I told you ki yeh" gesturing to the whole look "maine design aur tayyar karwaya hai" then pointed to the jewellery she wore on her head, neck and hands, and the dupatta that were given to her and clarified "siwaye iske, iske, iske aur iske"

Arnav's eye brows rose eyebrows at that. As if still in complete disbelief. Talk about ego hurt.

But she still continued because again time was of too much of the essence for stroking her ego, so she said "Hum yahan aana bhi nahin chahte the. Humein bhi sau sau kaam hai patha hai. Jeeji ki shaadi hai. Hum kho gaye hain. Shaastri Nivas jana tha hum-”

“Ek minute!” Arnav said.

“Toh tum sach mein keh rahi ho ki yeh lehenga tumne design kiya hai?”

“Haan”

“Yeh pura outfit?”

“Haaaan”

“Kisi ne tumhe paise nahin diye apna design Raizada ke show mein display karne ke liye for sabotage?”

“Haa - kya?! Bilkul nahin! Aisa bhi karte hain log?”

“Tumhe pagal lagta hoon main jo tumhari banayi hui baaton ko aise hi manlunga” Arnav said.

“Nahinnn, ek minute hum batate hain” Khushi insisted, trying to take her potli out that was attached to the lehenga, to get her phone. It was a slim pouch that was sleek enough to seamlessly blend with the pleats of her lenehenga. Outside, music was still playing. Echoes of the thumping bass reverberated in the room. It was another remix. A version of the song Roop Suhana Lagta Hai.

She was trying to get her phone from the potli but the huge kangan sets in her hands were getting caught in the lehenga, making it difficult for her to get them out.

Kangan hai ki hathkadi?

She didn't want to spoil her lehenga and realised that she might probably have no choice but to ask Arnav "Can you please" she said hesitating before gesturing her waist "help me take my phone out."

"You....you want me to take your phone out?"

"No, tch! What do you think help me take my phone out means?"

"Okay...? Just wanted to confirm" Arnav replied with annoyance.

He strode forward to stop at an arm's distance, she turned sideways to angle her hidden potli towards him.

His expression showed that he was absolutely unsure if he should be doing as she asked.

"It's okay I won't sue you" she said seeing him hesitate.

"I was trying to find the so called potli you have your phone in" he replied defensively, bringing his hand to his neck to scratch the back of it.

"Arey haan, woh jo zipper ka section dikh raha hai na, it's right underneath it. You will have to unzip it thoda side mein to get it out"

"What?" He looked at her like she grew two horns.

"Sach mein, how else was I supposed to hide it, the look wasn't sitting right, but I wanted to make it practical, pocket was probably better but an Indian touch of potli attached on the side AND a pocket to hide it in if you don't need it, uska alag hi mazaa hai."

"Okay" he relented eyeing her facial expression one last time to check for any trap. He unzipped so slowly like he was scared that she was pranking him or something. Then grew a bit more confident when he found a patch behind the zipper. He gently pinched the potli inside to pull it out.

"Found it..." he had to maneuver it by moving it side to side, to get it out. In that process, his knuckles slightly grazed her midriff. Khushi's breath hitched but she maintained a neutral expression. Arnav however looked mortified. "Sorry...woh..here - " he handed the potli.

When she looked up she caught him staring at her waist near the underboob for a second too long before his eyes turned away. Like he didn't realize he was doing that and had to force his eyes away for the sake of proprietary. He was so tall. She had to crane her neck all the way back to look at his face. Was he breathing a little too heavily? His jaw shuffled highlighting his strong jawline. Khushi would be lying if she said she her eyes didn't linger on the way his adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed. He cleared his throat sliding his hands in his pockets and took a step back pretending like nothing happened.

She focused back on her phone like her heart wasn't racing like she had been running for her life, the memory of his fingers grazing her waist, like a phantom wind still lingering on her skin. Her face felt like it was on fire.

After scrolling for a few seconds, she showed pictures of the dress in the making and all the sketches she made. Thank God, she had the good sense to record everything on her phone. His face still look disbelieving so she started explaining the process and explained how she made the outfit for her jeeji's wedding. Slowly, she could sense Arnav relaxing bit by bit as he saw photos. His expression stayed serious though. But she could tell that he believed her now and was hopeful that she could leave soon.

But all he said was “Stay in this room until I come back” and then left. She was in shock for a few minutes.

What more proof does this man need?

What does he think? I am working for his competitors - snakes that are SO DESPERATE to go this length of deception to forge pictures???

On second thought that actually seems plausible but doesn't make this any less annoying and inconvenient! Jiji needs me!!! She started panicking at that last thought.

Thankfully the door opened before she could further drive herself insane with anxiety.

It was a guard who came to return her long forgotten helmet in the hall and inform her that she could leave as soon as she signed an NDA.

Khushi heaved a deep sigh of relief.

She didn't need him telling her twice for her to agree to it just so she could get out of this godforsaken place. The papers took about half an hour to arrive. She was almost convinced that she was kidnapped until the bodyguard came in with a black case holding an ipad and a pen - stylus.

Sagging with relief, she barely registered signing the documents, removing the jewellery to hand it over to the guard and almost ran to her waiting scooty near the entrance.

She was getting seated on the vehicle, adjusting her lehenga around the milk can attached on the side, when she saw the nameplate on the house across the street from the building she got out from.

Shaastri Nivas.

...Look out for more story updates on this very post

And there it goes. Khushi ends up in show stopper spot but wearing her own creation rather than his.

With the competition in the industry being so fierce, you can't blame him for thinking that she is up to no good.

But how did his own people miss that she was not in the right outfit?

O lala ...fireworks ahead