Days later-

The box sat on Heer's bed like a sleeping panther-sleek, silent, waiting to strike.

She approached it slowly, her bare feet whispering against the cold marble floor. The velvet was the color of a starless night. A brand, not a gift.

Her fingers trembled as she lifted the lid.

Inside lay a dress.

Black.

Not the elegant, mourning black of a widow. This was the black of a midnight hunt, of shadows that swallowed screams whole. The bodice was fitted, the neckline a deliberate slash of vulnerability, the back open to the waist. The fabric shimmered faintly, like oil on water, catching the light only to spit it back out darker.

A knock at the door.

She didn't need to turn to know who stood there. The air itself grew heavier when he entered a room.

"Put it on."

Aryaveer's voice was a blade dragged along her spine.

Heer lifted the dress, the silk slithering through her fingers like something alive.

"Why?" The word slipped out before she could cage it.

A chill spread through the room.

She felt him move before she saw it-three strides that brought him close enough for his breath to stir the hair at her nape. His hand closed around her wrist, thumb pressing into the delicate bones.

"Because tonight," he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, "you will stand where everyone can see you. Where everyone can remember exactly what you are."

He released her with a shove that sent her stumbling into the vanity. The mirror showed her fractured reflection pale face, bruised eyes, lips parted around unspoken words.

When she looked up, he was already gone.

■□■□■□■□■

Khanna Manor.

The Khanna mansion blazed against the Mumbai skyline, every window vomiting golden light onto the manicured lawns.

At the centre of the hall, in big bright sparkly light was written "HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAHIRA"

Ayansh had organised the grand birthday party for his wife, the love of his life.

Heer walked the marble hallway like a ghost haunting its own corpse. The dress clung to her, the open back a gaping wound. Servant scurried past, their eyes sliding away as if she might infect them.

The grand ballroom was a living thing a beast of crystal and champagne, its heartbeat the clink of glasses and the rustle of designer silk.

Mahira,the birthday girl held court at its center.

Draped in gold and arrogance, she lounged on a raised divan, Ayansh's hand possessive on her thigh. Her laughter was a scalpel, sharp enough to flay skin from bone.

"Bhaiya!"She stretched out her arms as Aryaveer approached. "You're late. I was starting to think you'd gotten lost in her eyes." Mahira chirped her voice dripping with venom.

A flick of her wrist toward Heer.

The room's attention swung like a guillotine.

Ayansh's lip curled. "I didn't realize we were allowing maids at the celebration now."

Aryaveer didn't blink. "She's on a leash."

Ayansh hands clenched into fists behind his back.

Mahira's grin widened. She crooked a finger. "Come here, bhabhi. Let me see what my brother bought you."

Heer stepped forward, the crowd parting like flesh around a knife.

Mahira circled her, fingers trailing along the dress's open back. "Hmm. Black suits you. Like a noose suits a hanging man."She plucked at the fabric.Tell me, do you sleep in this? Or does Bhaiya make you take it off before he-"

"Mahira." Aryaveer's voice cracked like a whip.

She pouted. "Fine. But really, bhabhi, you should smile more. No one likes a sulking murderer."

Heer's face remained blank.

Mahira sighed and flopped back onto the divan. "Ugh. Like talking to a mannequin. Bhaiya, your wife is boring"

Aryaveer's gaze burned into Heer's profile. "She knows her place."

---

Midnight announced itself with cannonfire.

The first explosion painted the sky in liquid gold, the shockwave rattling the champagne flutes. The crowd oohed and aahed, surging toward the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Heer didn't move.

Not until the third firework a starburst of violet so vivid it hurt to look at

Then, like a marionette with cut strings, she drifted toward the terrace doors.

The night air was a slap of salt and smoke.

Above, the sky bled color.

Crimson.

Emerald.

Sapphire.

Each explosion carved shadows into the hollows of her cheeks, lit her blue eyes from within.

And then

Heer smile.

Her dimples appeared, two perfect fingerprints pressed into clay. She clapped once a sound swallowed by the next explosion her face upturned like a flower to the sun.

Across the terrace, Aryaveer froze.

He'd seen her bleed.

Seen her kneel.

But this

This was something raw. Something unbroken.

Mahira's voice slithered into his ear: "Look at her. Like a child at Diwali. Does she forget everything when she sees pretty lights?"

Aryaveer didn't answer.

He couldn't.

Because Heer was alive in that moment, more alive than she'd ever been with him.

And it burned

---

The last firework faded into smoke.

The spell broke.

Heer's hands fell to her sides, her smile dissolving like sugar in rain.

She turned

And found Aryaveer three feet away, his expression carved from stone.

For a heartbeat, they stared at each other.

"Inside."

He didn't touch her. Didn't need to. His voice was a collar around her throat.

The ballroom was a graveyard of half-empty glasses and discarded laughter. Mahira and Ayansh had vanished, leaving behind only the stench of perfume and power.

Aryaveer backed her into a shadowed alcove, his palms slamming into the wall on either side of her head.

"What was that?" His breath was hot against her lips.

Heer's pulse fluttered. "Fireworks."

"Don't." His knee slid between her thighs, pinning her. "Lie. To. Me."

She blinked up at him, her blue eyes reflecting the chandelier's fractured light. "I liked them."

A muscle jumped in his jaw. "You don't get to like things. Not after what you did."

A beat of silence.

"I forgot," she whispered.

His grip tightened. "What?"

"For a minute," her voice was the barest exhale, "I forgot I was supposed to be dead."

Aryaveer recoiled as if scalded.

For the first time in years, he had no words.

Heer slipped past him, her black dress swallowing the light as she disappeared down the hallway.

And Aryaveer?

He stood there long after the echoes of fireworks had faded, his hands still braced against the wall.

■□■□■□■□■

The orchestra swelled, strings and piano weaving through the ballroom like a seductive whisper. The chandeliers dripped golden light onto the polished floor, where couples swayed in practiced harmony.

Heer stood near the towering windows, her black dress melting into the shadows. She had become a ghost again unseen, untouched until a hand appeared in her line of vision.

"May I have this dance?"

A young mannsome politician's son with slicked-back hair and a too-easy smile bowed slightly, his fingers outstretched.

Heer blinked. No one had ever asked. No one had ever seenher.

Her lips parted, a breath away from refusal-

Then the air turned to ice.

Aryaveer's voice cut through the music like a blade.

"She's mine."

The man recoiled as if struck. Aryaveer didn't spare him a glance. His hand clamped around Heer's wrist, fingers branding her skin as he yanked her forward.

"Wha-?"

He didn't let her finish as he led her to the dance floor himself.

The dance floor parted for them like the Red Sea before a storm.

Aryaveer spun Heer into the center, his grip unrelenting. The music swirled around them a waltz, slow and dangerous.

Heer stumbled, her bare feet skidding on marble. "I don't know how to-"

"Follow."

His palm seared into the dip of her back, fingers splaying over the exposed skin. He pulled her flush against him, their bodies aligned chest to chest, hip to hip.

Heer's breath hitched.

Aryaveer leaned down, his lips grazing her ear. "Left foot first."

She obeyed.

Step.

Then she stumble.

His arm tightened, catching her before she could fall.

"Again."

The world narrowed to his voice, his touch, the heat of his body surrounding her. He guided her with ruthless precision.

A turn.

A dip.

His hand slid up her spine, fingers threading into her hair, tilting her face up to his.

The music faded.

The crowd disappeared.

For a heartbeat, it was just them

Aryaveer's thumb brushed her cheekbone, feather-light.

"Smile."

The word was rough, almost pleading.

Heer's lashes fluttered.

But the smile from the fireworks didn't return.

Instead, her lips stayed parted, her breath shallow, her blue eyes reflecting the chandelier's fractured glow.

Aryaveer's grip tightened.

Why won't you?

Then the music crashed to a crescendo, shattering the moment.

He released her so abruptly she swayed.

The spell broke.

The ballroom rushed back in whispers, stares, Mahira's mocking clap from the sidelines.

Aryaveer's expression hardened into its usual mask of cruelty.

"Enough."

He turned and walked away, leaving Heer standing alone in the center of the floor, her skin still burning where he'd touched her.

-----

Later, in the silent halls of the mansion, Heer pressed her back against the cold wall, her fingers trembling where they touched her lips.

Aryaveer's voice echoed in her skull.

Smile.

She closed her eyes.

And for the first time in year

She wanted to smile.