The Malhotra house looked beautiful in the way museums did.

Expensive. Silent. Untouchable.

The sprawling Delhi bungalow stood beneath warm evening lights while luxury cars lined the driveway outside.

Inside, staff moved carefully through marble hallways carrying crystal trays and champagne flutes while soft instrumental music drifted through the air.

Everything about the house whispered old money.

Not loud wealth.

The dangerous kind.

The kind that had existed long before social media learned how to glamorize it.

Aaradhya stood in front of her mirror adjusting the sleeve of her ivory kurta for the third time.

Downstairs, voices echoed faintly.

Guests had already started arriving.

Family dinners in the Malhotra house were never just dinners.

They were performances.

Carefully curated. Emotionally exhausting.

Appearances mattered here.

Always.

Her grandmother's birthday meant:

politiciansindustrialistsold family friendscameras outside the gateendless judgment hidden beneath polite smiles

And somewhere in the middle of it all: Armaan Khanna.

Aaradhya exhaled slowly before turning away from the mirror.

She wasn't nervous about him.

Not really.

Armaan had existed around her for years.

Boarding school vacations. Cricket parties. Family holidays. Veer's birthdays.

He had always felt less like a person and more like weather.

Loud. Bright. Impossible to ignore.

But distant.

Always distant.

Downstairs, laughter erupted somewhere near the main hall.

That would be Reyansh.

Nobody else laughed that dramatically.

Aaradhya picked up her phone just as Meher's messages flooded the screen.

survive rich people circus?

blink twice if emotionally oppressed

Despite herself, Aaradhya smiled.

Another message came instantly.

also if armaan khanna is there tell him i support women's wrong decisions

Aaradhya physically rolled her eyes.

Then came a knock.

Soft. Controlled.

Ishita entered before being invited.

Of course.

She looked impossibly polished already.

Black silk saree. Diamond earrings. Hair styled perfectly.

Actress. Star. Malhotra daughter.

Everything Aaradhya was never meant to become.

Ishita's eyes swept over her quickly.

Assessing.

Not cruel.

Not warm either.

Something far more exhausting.

Habitual.

"You're late."

Aaradhya glanced at the clock.

"I'm literally not."

"Guests are already downstairs."

There it was.

The implication hidden neatly beneath the sentence.

You should already be available.

Prepared. Useful.

Aaradhya reached for her earrings quietly.

Ishita lingered near the doorway.

"Mama invited the Singhanias."

Aaradhya paused briefly.

Yuvi's family.

Of course.

Everybody important would be there.

Ishita's gaze shifted toward her mirror.

"And apparently Veer brought Armaan."

Something unreadable flickered briefly across her expression.

Gone instantly.

Aaradhya noticed anyway.

The entire country flirted with Armaan Khanna.

But women inside elite circles treated him differently.

Like he was simultaneously entertainment and danger.

Ishita adjusted a bracelet absentmindedly.

"Try not to disappear tonight."

Aaradhya blinked.

"Excuse me?"

"Dadi hates when people ask where you are."

Not: I want you there.

Dadi hates questions.

Aaradhya swallowed whatever response rose instinctively.

Years of this family had trained silence into her bones.

"Right."

Ishita nodded once and left.

The room felt quieter afterward.

Heavier.

Aaradhya stared at herself in the mirror for another second.

Then finally headed downstairs.

-

The house had transformed fully by evening.

Soft golden lighting. Laughter echoing through hallways. Crystal glasses clinking constantly.

Power moved differently inside old-money rooms.

Quiet. Controlled.

No one needed to announce influence here.

Everybody already knew who mattered.

Aaradhya moved carefully through guests offering polite greetings while staff floated around carrying drinks.

A politician's wife smiled too sharply.

"You've grown up so beautifully."

Translation: We forgot you existed.

Aaradhya smiled anyway.

Years of practice made it effortless.

Forced smiles had become another language.

Near the far side of the hall, Veer stood speaking to Dev Rathore and two selectors while Reyansh harassed waiters for extra dessert.

And beside them-

Armaan.

Black kurta. Sleeves rolled lazily. Hair slightly messy like he'd run his hands through it too many times.

Even standing still, he looked unfairly magnetic.

Not polished like movie stars.

Worse.

Natural.

Women noticed him instinctively. Men measured themselves unconsciously around him.

Aaradhya looked away first.

Which was exactly why Armaan noticed her.

Not consciously.

Just briefly.

A flicker of recognition across a crowded room.

Then someone interrupted him again.

This happened constantly.

A businessman clapped Armaan's shoulder loudly.

"Nation's hero!"

Armaan smiled automatically.

Easy. Practiced.

But Veer noticed the exhaustion beneath it immediately.

Years of friendship made those things obvious.

"You look dead inside," Veer muttered quietly.

Armaan accepted champagne from a passing tray.

"Your family parties feel like political negotiations with snacks."

Veer snorted.

Across the room, Reyansh spotted Aaradhya first.

"There's the normal sibling."

Veer looked mildly offended.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

Armaan's gaze drifted again before he could stop it.

Aaradhya stood near the grand piano speaking softly with Yuvi Singhania.

And for some reason the image paused something briefly inside his head.

Not attraction.

Not yet.

Just stillness.

Which felt strange around her.

She wore simplicity differently from everyone else in that room.

No performance. No desperation to be noticed.

Just quiet elegance.

Yuvi said something that made her laugh softly.

Real laughter.

Not social laughter.

Armaan noticed the difference without understanding why.

Then Reyansh followed his line of sight and grinned immediately.

Dangerous.

"Interesting."

Armaan looked unimpressed.

"Don't start."

"I didn't even say anything."

"Your face said enough."

Reyansh smirked into his drink.

Across the hall, Aaradhya finally looked up.

Her eyes met Armaan's for exactly one second.

Long enough for recognition.

Long enough for memory.

Then Veer appeared beside her almost instantly.

Protective without realizing it.

Armaan watched him lean down slightly while saying something low enough only Aaradhya could hear.

She rolled her eyes faintly.

Veer smirked.

The sight hit unexpectedly.

Because Veer rarely softened around anyone.

But around Aaradhya, his coldness always cracked eventually.

Even if both of them pretended otherwise.

A waiter nearly walked into Armaan while he watched.

"Brother," Reyansh said slowly, "you're staring."

Armaan looked away immediately.

"You're hallucinating."

"No, no. This is excellent. Continue."

Kabir appeared beside them carrying whiskey.

"Why does Reyansh look emotionally invested?"

"Armaan discovered Veer's sister exists."

Kabir blinked once.

Then looked genuinely concerned.

"Absolutely not."

Armaan laughed despite himself.

"You people need psychiatric help."

But somewhere across the room, Aaradhya laughed quietly again at something Yuvi said.

And for reasons he couldn't explain yet- Armaan looked back.