11. Wife of Mr. Malhotra

Author's POV

Next Morning

While Ishika was preparing breakfast, she suddenly received an email from Aditi's school about the interview schedule for the Science Teacher position. She looked at the message and felt happy. She immediately called Aditi from the kitchen and told her the news. Aditi responded by saying she would help her prepare for the interview.

Since today was Aditi's day off, she was at home helping Ishika to prepare for her interview. She kept asking her questions and giving advice to improve her answers. Their entire morning was spent this way.

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At Evening

She stood in front of the mirror, the deep red saree clinging to her like a second skin, draping elegantly over her curves. The fabric shimmered under the soft light, a deep crimson that seemed to pulse with an energy of its own. Her hair cascaded in loose, dark curls down her back, reaching her waist like a river of silk. She fastened the heavy earrings that swayed against her neck with every move, catching the light and shimmering like her unspoken desires.

A delicate bracelet adorned her wrist, its weight reminding her of the invisible chains she had carried all these years-chains of decisions, of lost love, of choices that had led her here. She looked both irresistible and untouchable, a woman who had built walls too high for anyone to climb.

Her phone buzzed, dragging her from her thoughts. She picked it up, glancing at the time. 6 PM. Her heart skipped a beat. It was time to go.

As Sahil had said, the driver arrived to pick her up. She glanced out from the balcony before making her way downstairs. The driver opened the door for her, and she climbed into the back seat of the car.

When they arrived at Sahil's mansion, the door was opened by a butler who greeted her, "Good evening, madam. Please take a seat. Sir will be here in a few minutes."

Ishika nodded at the butler and quietly took a seat, her fingers nervously smoothing the folds of her saree. Moments later, she heard footsteps descending the stairs. Sahil appeared, looking as dashing as ever in his tailored black tuxedo, his presence commanding the room. She kept her gaze averted, unwilling to meet his eyes, but Sahil couldn't look away from her.

Sahil's eyes found her instantly. He couldn't help but admire how the deep red saree wrapped around her, accentuating every curve, the color highlighting her fair skin in a way that made her glow. For a few moments, he was speechless, just staring, mesmerized. But then something caught his attention, shattering the spell. His brows furrowed. Where were the diamonds, the gold? The jewelry he had spent a fortune on? His jaw tightened as he realized she wasn't wearing any of it.

"What is this?" he asked, his voice sharp with disbelief. "Are you trying to make me look like I can't afford to dress my own wife? Where's your jewelry?"

His eyes dropped to her hand, and that's when his anger truly flared. The wedding ring-the one symbol of their bond-was missing. "Where is your wedding ring? Why aren't you wearing it?" he snapped, his voice rising.

Ishika rose to her feet slowly, her lips curving into a faint, ironic smile. "I wouldn't dare touch anything you gave me," she said softly, her tone laced with cold defiance.

Sahil's jaw clenched. He snorted, unable to believe her audacity. Silence stretched between them, heavy and charged.

She looked him in the eye now, the distance between them growing wider with every breath.

"And the wedding ring," she added, her voice barely above a whisper, "was a gift from you... so, yes." Her words hung in the air, unfinished, but the meaning was clear.

Without a word, Sahil turned and strode back upstairs, only to return moments later. He grabbed her hand, roughly sliding the wedding ring back onto her finger. His grip was firm, almost painful.

"Are you trying to let everyone know we're getting a divorce?" he growled, his eyes burning with barely concealed fury. He held her hand tightly for a moment longer, then leaned in, his voice low and threatening. "Do not take it off again."

Ishika pressed her lips together, suppressing the fire that raged inside her. She said nothing, her silence her only defense.

He then gave her a box and told her to wear the jewelry inside. She reluctantly put it on, and then both of them left for the party.

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During the party, Ishika could feel the weight of everyone's eyes on her, but not in a way that made her feel admired. The stares carried something darker, something heavy. Half of the women there were clearly jealous, their eyes narrowing with envy simply because she was Sahil Malhotra's wife. The other half, though? They couldn't stop fawning over the extravagant jewelry she wore, eyeing her as if she were some trophy draped in gold.

Her skin prickled with discomfort, the air feeling thick around her. She wanted nothing more than to escape, to melt into the shadows and disappear. Every second spent in that room felt like hours. Sahil, meanwhile, seemed oblivious. He introduced her to his business partners and friends, drawing her into their world of money, power, and endless talk of deals she couldn't understand. The conversation buzzed around her, dry and lifeless, like a language she didn't speak. She nodded politely, forcing a smile, but inside she was drowning in boredom, counting the seconds until she could leave.

After what felt like an eternity, Sahil leaned in close and murmured, "I'll be back," before excusing himself and walking to the other side of the room to meet someone, leaving her standing alone, feeling exposed in the middle of a crowd. The space he left behind felt cold, and the noise of the party grew louder, closing in on her. She swallowed hard, her hands clenching the fabric of her saree, fighting the urge to just walk out the door.

Suddenly, someone tapped Ishika on the shoulder, pulling her from her thoughts. She turned to see a woman around her age standing there, her polite smile radiating warmth. Ishika returned the smile, feeling a flicker of hope for a connection in this sea of indifference.

"Hello," she said softly.

"Hi! I'm Shikha Rawat. And you are?" the woman asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"I'm Ishika Sin..." She paused abruptly before adding, "Ishika Malhotra."

"Oh, you're Mr. Malhotra's wife!" Shikha exclaimed, her enthusiasm genuine. Ishika simply nodded, feeling a mix of pride and pressure.

Shikha's smile widened. "I'm sorry! I just barged in on you. I was getting bored at this party, and when I saw you alone, I thought it would be nice to talk to someone. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," Ishika replied, relief flooding her voice. "I was feeling bored, too."

The two women began to laugh and chat, a shared understanding blooming between them, providing Ishika with a welcome distraction. As they exchanged stories and laughter, the atmosphere around them shifted, the party noise fading slightly into the background.

After chatting with Shikha, Ishika excused herself to head to the washroom. As she walked through the crowded room, she suddenly bumped into someone. Startled, she looked up, meeting the gaze of a man whose eyes seemed to bore into her with an intensity that made her frown.

"What are you staring at?" she shot back, her irritation flaring as she attempted to move past him.

"Wait, what's your name?" he called out, curiosity etched across his face.

"I don't talk to strangers," Ishika replied with a dismissive wave of her hand, striding past him without a backward glance.

The man, amused, "Who is she?" he asked the other man standing beside him, intrigued by the boldness she displayed.

"Dhruv," the other man replied, "She's Sahil Malhotra's wife."

Dhruv raised an eyebrow, a spark of interest igniting. "Well, well, the wife of the infamous Mr. Malhotra. This could be interesting."

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End of the chapter.

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