His voice softened with just the right hint of grief tinging his tone as she said, ‘I look at Siya, and I am reminded of her late mother, Arohi. She was a true artist. She had the rare ability to transform vision into beauty, and pour soul into stone. Our daughter has inherited every ounce of that brilliance.’
A few guests turned to glance at her, while the blood in her veins turned to ice. Siya barely heard the praising words and cheers through the high-pitched ringing in her ears.
As he went on talking about Arohi, she clenched her fist tighter. He was dressing her up in a false narrative, painting her to be a happy woman, fulfilled and loved, but Siya remembered the gritty reality.
Her mother had been talented, but not happy, not peaceful, and certainly not treasured by the man now sanctifying her memory for applause. She tried to keep her face composed, but a memory hit her like shards of glass.
She remembered how at age nine, she’d found her mother curled up under the running shower, wailing with abroken heart, after news broke about her father’s affair. She remembered the mother who had held her hand as she’d cried when Kartik had failed to show up for her eighth birthday.
Siya remembered her muffled sobs behind closed doors, and how she’d stopped sketching in her final years in melancholy stretches of isolation and the onset of crippling depression.
Kartik went on, his voice smooth as velvet. ‘My life is incomplete without Arohi and I miss her everyday so it warms my heart to see how Siya kept her spirit alive in this collection. She makes me believe that some stories do get to continue, even after the final goodbye.’
Siya clenched her jaw so tight her teeth ached under the pressure. She lowered her lashes, hiding the burn in her eyes as a camera flash caught her face from the side. She hoped it looked like she was emotionally moved by her father’s speech rather than being disgusted by it.
Abhay shifted his hand on her thigh, sensing the sudden stillness in her.
Each false note in his speech was a reminder of the isolated life Arohi had lived. If she closed her eyes, she feared she might see her mother trapped in that gilded cage of a mansion, whose walls still displayed photos of their marriage that had died long before Arohi had.
‘To truly honour my dear wife’s legacy, I’ve decided to donate to the auction one of her original bespoke pieces, designed and handcrafted by Arohi herself,’ Kartik ended with a flourish and gestured for the ring to be brought on stage.
The instant he opened the velvet ring box and Siya saw the sapphire ring revealed under the soft light, her heart droppedas air whooshed right out of her lungs. She bit her cheek hard enough to taste blood.
It wasthering, the personal jewellery item she had always thought would be hers one day. Arohi’s melodious promise echoed faintly in her head.This ring is for you, baby. Keep this close, and you’ll always have a part of me with you.
And now, that very ring sat on a pedestal, ready for strangers to place bids on it.
Her vision blurred at the edges, and she forced herself to stay still, even as fury and heartbreak surged within her.
Kartik picked up the ring box and showed it to the crowd, allowing them to marvel at its beauty. The deep ocean-blue sapphire was a perfect oval cut, adorned with little diamonds along the platinum band. Her mother’s first design, The Endless Ocean sapphire ring, was world-famous for its intricate craftsmanship and the room buzzed with the opportunity to own it.
‘Is that the same sapphire ring you told me about on our date?’ Abhay asked, his gaze fixed on the velvet box.
She could only nod in response.
Kartik finally met her gaze as he said, ‘Arohi once told me that wearing this ring was like wrapping the sky around her finger. That is precisely why I chose this item because it is not merely an heirloom, it is a reminder for my daughter that this is her place in the world.’
His tone was warm and fatherly and to those in the crowd, it sounded like a father’s blessing, but to Siya, it felt like a noose. It was the same phrase he’d used when she was sixteen and hadbegged to go to art school abroad, but he’d forced her to go to law school instead.
‘Dad, no please,’ she mouthed at him but Kartik only coldly smiled in acknowledgement.
Abhay’s grip on her thigh tightened and he turned to look at her, having caught their silent interaction, but she couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze. He’d see right through her fragile facade.
The satin fabric of her gown began to prickle against her skin and her chest pounded with the kind of anger that made her blood run cold. Her mind spiralled as she tried to figure out why he was doing this to her.
Then, through the fog of pain, her gaze caught on Shyamlal seated comfortably at one of the VIP buyer tables next to them. Kartik had vetted the guest list himself. Shyamlal hadn’t just slipped through. He’d beeninvited.
It hit her then. Kartik had known about the fake gemstones, yet had chosen to let it happen. Her stomach churned and the appetiser she’d eaten threatened to come up as his message finally dawned on her.
This was her punishment for exposing Shyamlal and making him look like a fool.
Her eyes darted back to the ring, beautiful and utterly out of reach. The announcer’s voice rang out as he said, ‘The opening bid is fifty lakh.’
Her heart lurched as the first paddle rose from somewhere to her right, and she flinched at the number. ‘One crore.’
Immediately, the bid picked up pace, quickly rising to over two crores. A pressure began to mount behind her ribs,suffocating in its slow rise. Kartik had cut her heart open in a room full of people and had used Arohi’s name to do it. Her throat felt like it had been lined with ash.
A tear slipped through the corner of her eye and she discreetly wiped it off.
