𝟒.| 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑾𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝑺𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆

The aroma of freshly cooked dal chawal and paneer filled the modest kitchen, but Sitara barely noticed. She stood by the stove, stirring the dal absentmindedly, her eyes unfocused, her thoughts far from the simmering pot in front of her.

Her hands moved mechanically, her mind still trapped in the events of the day. The knot of humiliation and anger twisted tighter in her chest, making it hard to breathe. She blinked away the sting of tears, not wanting to fall apart again.

Her father entered the house quietly, immediately noticing the strange stillness in the air. He spotted Sitara in the kitchen, her back turned to him, lost in her own world.

It was unusual to see her so distant, especially while cooking. Normally, she hummed or sang quietly to herself, but today... something was wrong.

"Sitara beta," he called softly, stepping into the kitchen.

She startled slightly, quickly masking her unease with a small, forced smile. "Papa, you're home."

He moved closer, observing her closely. Her eyes were red and puffy, as if she had been crying, and her smile didn't reach her eyes. The sight of it made his heart ache. Something had happened, but Sitara wasn't saying anything.

He glanced at the food on the stove—dal chawal and paneer, his favorite—but even that didn't seem to lift her spirits.

"Everything okay, beta?" he asked gently, his voice filled with concern.
Sitara nodded, avoiding his gaze. "Yes, Papa. I... I just had a long day."

Ramesh frowned slightly, sensing that she wasn't telling the whole truth. He didn't want to press her too much, but he couldn't ignore the uneasiness radiating from his daughter. "If something's bothering you, you can talk to me, you know that, right?"

Sitara swallowed, the lump in her throat making it hard to speak. She didn't want to burden her father with what had happened. He had been so proud of her, and telling him about the way Kabir and Anshita had humiliated her would only make him feel worse.

"I'm fine, Papa. Really," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her father sighed but didn't push any further. He could tell she wasn't ready to talk, and he respected her need for space. He sat down at the small dining table and gestured for her to join him. "Come, beta, let's eat. You've worked hard all day."

They both sat down, and Sitara served the dal and rice, placing a small bowl of paneer in front of her father. She kept her head down, focusing on the food, but her mind was miles away. Every bite felt heavy, like she was forcing herself to go through the motions. She felt her father's gaze on her but didn't look up.

As they ate in silence, the door creaked open, and a familiar voice broke the stillness.

"Namaste, Ramesh Bhaiya," one of the maids greeted as she stepped inside.

Sitara's father nodded at the maid, acknowledging her with a small smile. "Namaste, Rama. How can I help you?"

The maid shifted her gaze to Sitara and said, "Bitiya, Riya has sent for you. She needs help with her school homework."

Sitara looked up, startled by the mention of Riya. The last thing she wanted was to go back to the Raizada mansion, to face anyone from that family, especially after everything that had happened with  Anshita. But she couldn't refuse. Riya was innocent in all of this, and Sitara didn't want to let her down.

"Tell her I'll be there in a little while," Sitara said quietly, her voice steady even though her heart wasn't.

The maid nodded and gave her a kind smile. "I'll wait for you outside, bitiya."

As the maid left, Sitara glanced at her father, who was watching her carefully. He could see the hesitation in her eyes, the way she seemed to be holding back.

"Are you sure you're okay, beta?" he asked again, his voice full of concern.

Sitara forced a smile, though it felt like a mask she couldn't wait to take off. "Yes, Papa. I'll just help Riya with her homework and be back soon."

Her father nodded slowly, but the worry in his eyes didn't fade. He watched as Sitara finished her meal in silence, clearing her plate quickly before standing up. She avoided his gaze again, focusing on cleaning up the dishes, and he could only wonder what was truly going on in her mind.

After rinsing her plate, Sitara wiped her hands on the towel, trying to steady herself. She took a deep breath, preparing herself to face whatever waited for her at the Raizada mansion. With a final glance at her father, she grabbed her dupatta and quietly left the house to meet the maid waiting outside.

As she walked down the garden to mansion, her heart pounded in her chest, a mixture of anxiety and dread swirling inside her. She didn't know how to face Riya, how to pretend everything was normal, when inside, nothing felt right anymore.

Sitara found herself standing in front of Riya's room, the door slightly ajar. She hesitated for a moment, taking a deep breath before gently pushing it open. The room was a colorful mess, full of youthful energy.

The walls were painted in soft pastel shades, with posters of popular bands and motivational quotes taped haphazardly, giving the space a lively, rebellious vibe.

Books were scattered everywhere—on the bed, the floor, and even the windowsill, as if Riya had been in the middle of studying but had quickly abandoned the effort.

The bed itself was unmade, with a pink duvet bunched up at one end and pillows tossed aside. A small desk sat against the far wall, cluttered with notebooks, pens, and a laptop that had a few random stickers on it. The floor was covered in a plush rug, and near the window stood a guitar propped against the wall, as if it, too, had been forgotten in the chaos.

Despite the mess, there was a charm to the room, a sense of carefree innocence that reflected Riya's personality. Sitara couldn't help but smile slightly at the sight of the chaos. This was Riya—bright, vibrant, and a bit scattered, but in an endearing way.

Riya was sitting cross-legged on the floor in the middle of the mess, flipping through a textbook with a look of utter frustration on her face. She glanced up and grinned when she saw Sitara standing there.

"Oh, finally! I've been drowning in homework and no one to save me," she said dramatically, waving a hand over the disorganized room as if to emphasize her plight. "Come in, Sitara. Please save me from this torture."

Sitara smiled, trying to push away the lingering heaviness in her chest as she stepped inside, carefully avoiding the scattered books. "Let's see what I can do."

Sitara found herself standing in front of Riya's room, the door slightly ajar. She hesitated for a moment, taking a deep breath before gently pushing it open. The room was a colorful mess, full of youthful energy.

The walls were painted in soft pastel shades, with posters of popular bands and motivational quotes taped haphazardly, giving the space a lively, rebellious vibe.

Books were scattered everywhere—on the bed, the floor, and even the windowsill, as if Riya had been in the middle of studying but had quickly abandoned the effort. The bed itself was unmade, with a pink duvet bunched up at one end and pillows tossed aside.

A small desk sat against the far wall, cluttered with notebooks, pens, and a laptop that had a few random stickers on it. The floor was covered in a plush rug, and near the window stood a guitar propped against the wall, as if it, too, had been forgotten in the chaos.

Despite the mess, there was a charm to the room, a sense of carefree innocence that reflected Riya's personality. Sitara couldn't help but smile slightly at the sight of the chaos. This was Riya—bright, vibrant, and a bit scattered, but in an endearing way.

Riya was sitting cross-legged on the floor in the middle of the mess, flipping through a textbook with a look of utter frustration on her face. She glanced up and grinned when she saw Sitara standing there.

"Oh, finally! I've been drowning in homework and no one to save me," she said dramatically, waving a hand over the disorganized room as if to emphasize her plight. "Come in, Tara. Please save me from this torture."

Sitara smiled, trying to push away the lingering heaviness in her chest as she stepped inside, carefully avoiding the scattered books. "Let's see what I can do."

As Sitara and Riya wrapped up their homework session, Riya gave her a grateful smile. "Thanks so much for helping me out, Sitara. I couldn't have done it without you."

Sitara nodded, offering a soft smile in return. "No problem, Riya. I'm glad I could help."

Riya stretched and yawned, clearly tired from the study session. "I'm going to hit the hay now. You should head home before it gets too late."
Sitara agreed, gathering her things and standing up. "I will. Thanks for understanding."

"Of course. See you around!" Riya called out as she headed toward her bedroom.

Darkness enveloped Sitara as she wandered through the unfamiliar corridors of the Raizada mansion, each twist and turn only deepening her confusion. The sprawling estate felt like a labyrinth, its opulence intimidating in its silence.

She had been searching for the exit, the heavy front gate that seemed a lifetime away. Frustration bubbled within her, but there was an underlying fear that crept into her thoughts—this place was foreign, and she was utterly alone.

Just as she turned a corner, a strong hand clamped over her mouth, muffling her startled gasp. She was yanked into a dark room, the door closing with a decisive thud behind her. Panic surged, and she instinctively tried to scream, but a voice slithered through the shadows.

"Scream, baby girl, and no one is going to come. This room is soundproof."

Recognition flooded her senses like ice water. It was him—Kabir. The very thought sent shivers down her spine, a mix of dread and a strange, unwelcome thrill. Tears gathered in her eyes, blurring her vision as she struggled to comprehend the situation.

"What are you doing here?" she managed to choke out, her voice barely a whisper, quaking with disbelief.

Kabir stepped closer, the dim light revealing his smirk, sharp and dangerous. "You're asking me what I'm doing in my own house?"

Her heart raced as realization struck. Kabir was Riya's brother—the very connection that bound them. He had been watching her, and somehow, he had known she would be here. A sickening feeling twisted in her stomach. After her departure from college, he had likely made a call, learned about her whereabouts, and tracked her down.

"Let me go," she demanded, her voice stronger now, though it trembled at the edges.

"Not soon, little rose," he replied, his tone dripping with a possessiveness that made her skin crawl.

"I'm not the type of girl you think. Leave me!" she insisted, trying to back away, but he stepped forward, invading her space. The heat radiating from him was almost suffocating, his minty breath brushing against her cheek.

"You attracted me, Tara," he confessed, his words surprising even him. There was a rawness in his gaze that made her heart race and her pulse quicken, a potent mix of danger and allure.

"Pl-please leave me," she pleaded, tears brimming in her eyes, fighting the conflicting emotions swirling within her.

"Never," he replied, his voice low and dangerous. She squirmed in his grip, trying to escape the intensity of his gaze, but he tightened his hold, forcing her to look at him.

He cupped her jaw, tilting her head up, forcing her to meet his lust-filled eyes. In that charged moment, the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of them suspended in an electric tension.

Then, without warning, he smashed his lips against hers.

The kiss was anything but gentle. It was a collision of desires—his fervent need meeting her startled resistance. Kabir deepened the kiss, his hands moving to grip her waist, pulling her closer as if trying to merge their bodies into one. Sitara was stunned, her mind racing in disbelief as sensations flooded her.

The heat of his lips, the possessiveness in his touch—it was overwhelming.

Shock coursed through her, the kiss igniting an array of emotions she had buried deep within. She felt humiliated, trapped in a situation that defied her very essence. This wasn't the fairy tale kiss she had dreamt of; it was raw, primal, and filled with a darkness she couldn't comprehend.

She hated herself for feeling anything at all, for responding even slightly to the passion that crackled between them. Her heart raced, not just with fear but with a dangerous thrill that confused her.

This was her first kiss, and it felt like a betrayal to everything she stood for, yet here she was—lost in a moment that was both terrifying and intoxicating.

The room was dim, shadows playing on the walls, adding to the disorienting atmosphere.

The air was thick with unspoken words, heavy with tension. She could hear her own heartbeat thundering in her ears, drowning out her rational thoughts.

Kabir pulled back slightly, his eyes searching hers, and she saw a flicker of something deeper—a hunger that went beyond mere desire. It was possessive, almost desperate, as if he was claiming her in a way she had never anticipated.

Sitara pushed Kabir away with all her strength and ran out of the dark room. Her heart raced as she fled, feeling scared and confused. She needed to escape the mansion, which felt like a trap.

Outside, the garden looked peaceful under the moonlight. She sat on a bench, rubbing her lips where Kabir had kissed her. It felt like his touch was still there, and she wanted to wipe it away. Tears filled her eyes as she realized how vulnerable and insulted she felt. She had come to Mumbai  to study and make her father proud, but everything had changed so quickly.

After a moment, she wiped her tears and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She had to keep moving forward. She stood up and headed toward the quarters, her heart heavy with everything that had happened.

When she entered her home, the familiar smell of comfort surrounded her, but her heart sank when she saw her father had fallen asleep. The sight was shocking. She never wanted anything like this to happen. All she wanted was to focus on her studies and take care of her father.

In a hurry, she rushed to the bathroom to wash her face. The cool water felt refreshing as she splashed it on, hoping to wash away the feeling of Kabir's kiss and the emotions swirling inside her.

Looking in the mirror, she saw a mix of fear and determination.

"I won't let this define me," she whispered to herself, trying to feel stronger. She took a deep breath, reminding herself of her goals and the promise she made to her father.

This was just a setback, and she would find a way to deal with it.
After drying her face, she felt ready to face whatever was next. She was determined to take control of her life, no matter what challenges came her way—even the trouble that Kabir brought into it.