‘I said what I said. You don’t know what it takes to survive in this industry, let alone succeed in it.’
‘And Dhruv does? He can’t draw for shit!’ she exclaimed, her cheeks burning with rage.
Kartik’s gaze turned dark as he gripped her elbow hard and admonished her. ‘It’s not about that. It’s about having a vision for the future of this company, which he does. He designed the new line of jewellery for fashion week, and that speaks for itself.’
‘No, Dad. You’ve got it wrong. Dhruv didn’t design them. I—’
‘I couldn’t care less who did what. It’s my call to make, and I will not tolerate anything less than exceptional from you. Now stop throwing a tantrum like a little girl. It would be better foryou if you spent your time learning how to be a good daughter, rather than competing with your stepbrother the entire time.’
In typical Kartik fashion, he turned around and walked away after having said his final words on the matter.
The ballroom suddenly felt warm, but Siya’s fingers stayed frozen around her wineglass. Her skin itched under the weight of disappointment. Why had she hoped her dad wouldseeher too, and not just his beloved stepson?
The walls closed in around her. Her skin itched under the weight of disappointment. The scent of expensive champagne, roses, and cold ambition fogged the room until it felt too thick to breathe in. She glanced toward the towering French doors across the room that led out onto the open balcony.
She needed air.
Siya stepped away, her heels clicking softly over the marble as headed for the balcony. The door gave way with a soft groan, and she stepped out.
The cool night breeze blew around her, but did little to soothe the storm raging inside her. Tears prickled behind her eyes, but she blinked them back furiously. Her toes felt numb in her high heels as she walked up to the railing.
She gripped the glass rod, dragging shallow breaths into her lungs. The thin and beaded straps of her blouse dug into her back, and her pinned-up hair barely allowed her to roll the tension out of her shoulders. She reached up and tugged four pins out, finally sighing in relief.
Siya leaned against the glass, trying to ground herself. Laughter and music rolled out in waves from the ballroombehind her, reminding her she had to go back in at some point. But for now, she was content in the silence.
The inky night sky looked serene, with the city lights and a million stars blinking against the velvet darkness. Versova beach stretched out before her, chaotic and alive with a fair organised for New Year’s Eve.
Strings of fairy lights were looped across food stalls and vendor carts, and rides dotted the sand along the shoreline. The Ferris wheel stood at the farthest edge, its metal frame outlined in amber bulbs shining in perfect rhythm as it spun slowly. Laughter and cheers drifted up in the air, bright and unfiltered.
When was the last time she’d laughed freely like that, felt that alive? A pang of sadness rippled through her when she couldn’t recall.
A soft click of the door behind her sliced into her thoughts. Her shoulders tensed, and she gripped the railing tight, bracing for her stepbrother, or worse, her father.
She turned just enough to catch the movement as a figure stepped into view from the shrouded dark edge of the balcony. He wore a black hoodie with the hood pulled over his head, his hands stuffed deep into the front pockets of his faded jeans.
Siya took a step back instinctively, and curled her hands into fists to defend herself.
‘I—shit,’ the man muttered, lifting both of his hands in an immediate gesture of apology, and pushed back the hood from his head. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.’
His voice was low, warm in a sheepish way that softened the edges of her alarm as she loosened her fists. When he steppedahead into the light, the jolt that moved through her this time wasn’t fear.
He was—quite honestly—gorgeous. His features were striking yet rugged. A tousled mess of dark hair fell into his whiskey-brown eyes, and his high cheekbones were dusted with the kind of stubble that suggested he hadn’t shaved today. His black hoodie clung firmly to his broad shoulders, and though he looked around to be the same age as her, he was towering over her five-seven self.
She shook her head once, trying to shed the fog. ‘I was just surprised. Wasn’t really expecting someone to swoop in like Batman,’ she said, trying to calm her erratic heartbeat.
‘I just needed to get out of there before anyone else tried to toast to “new beginnings,” the fourth one in ten minutes.’ He grinned and stepped forward to lean one forearm casually against the railing beside her.
A nervous flicker of laughter bubbled out of her, breaking the tension. She could empathise because she understood that instinct to escape very well. ‘Just wait until they get more drunk. There will be multiple toasts at once.’
‘I just hope I don’t have to suffer through that,’ he said.
‘Are you a party crasher?’ she asked before she could stop herself.
He guffawed. ‘Is that the vibe I’m giving off?’
She almost smiled. ‘You’re wearing a hoodie at a black-tie event. What do you think?’
He glanced back at the party through the glass and made a face. ‘My friend is the event manager for this party, and he needed some last-minute deliveries, so I got dragged in.’
