The words hit like a slap. Around the table, everyone stilled. Yash's jaw tightened. Anjana's eyes glittered with malicious pleasure—she'd probably expected Advika to be insulted. Abhishek smirked.
But Advika had spent twenty-two years being the illegitimate daughter, the unwanted one, the girl who didn't quite belong. She'd developed thick skin and a sharper tongue.
"Funny," Advika said, meeting Nisha's gaze directly. "I was thinking the same thing about you. Though I suppose 'peaceoffering' is generous. 'Grudging acceptance of reality' might be more accurate."
Nisha's eyes widened, surprise flickering across her face before it hardened into something colder.
Anjana's elbow dug sharply into Advika's ribs beneath the table. "Advika," she hissed under her breath. "Don't ruin this."
But Advika caught something else—the slightest quirk at the corner of Rishabh's mouth, quickly suppressed. And Sidharth... his eyes had sharpened, focusing on her with an intensity that made her skin prickle.
"My sister," Sidharth said, his voice dangerously soft, "sometimes forgets that not everyone finds her charm as irresistible as she does."
It could have been a reprimand or a warning. Advika couldn't tell which.
"And your bride-to-be," Nisha countered, "seems to have forgotten her place."
"I know exactly what my place is," Advika said before she could stop herself. "Your brother's... strategic acquisition. Isn't that right?"
The temperature in the room dropped several degrees. Yash's face flushed red. Anjana looked like she wanted to strangle her. But Advika kept her gaze locked on Sidharth, waiting for his reaction.
He stared back, unblinking, and for a long moment, the only sound was the quiet clink of ice in water glasses.
Then, unexpectedly, he smiled. It didn't reach his eyes, but his lips curved. "At least you're clear-eyed about it. That's more than most."
She didn't know if that was a compliment or an insult.
"Perhaps we should order," Rishabh suggested. He picked up the menu, effectively breaking the standoff. "The lamb here is exceptional."
Waiters materialized as if summoned by telepathy, taking orders in hushed, efficient voices. Advika ordered without tasting, her appetite nonexistent. Across from her, Sidharth's attention had shifted to her father, discussing terms of the alliance in low voices punctuated by Abhishek's occasional input.
She was grateful to be ignored. It gave her a chance to observe.
Nisha watched her like a cat watching a mouse, clearly waiting for another opportunity to strike. Rishabh split his attention between his phone and the conversation, but his posture remained alert, ready. And Sidharth...
He commanded the room without trying. Every word he spoke was measured, controlled. When he wanted something, he stated it as fact, not request. The waiters deferred to him. Even her father, powerful in his own right, seemed diminished in Sidharth's presence.
This was a man who was used to being obeyed. Who expected it.
The door to the private room opened, and Advika's attention snapped to the newcomer. A woman, probably in her mid-twenties, beautiful in a deliberate way—perfect makeup, perfect hair, perfect body displayed in a dress that was just this side of appropriate for a business dinner.
"Sidharth!" Her voice was warm, familiar. "Sorry I'm late. The traffic was murder."
She moved directly to his chair, her hand landing on his shoulder with easy intimacy. Sidharth didn't flinch, didn't move, but something in his jaw tightened.
"Mihika," he said, his tone neutral. "This is a private meeting."
"Oh, I know!" Mihika's laugh was light, practiced. "Nisha invited me. Said I should come by for drinks after." Her gaze slid to Advika, and her smile sharpened. "Though I see you're all still busy with... business."
The way she said 'business' made it clear what she thought of Advika.
"Mihika is my best friend," Nisha supplied, her smile catlike and satisfied. "She's practically family already."
The implication was clear. Mihika belonged here. Advika didn't.
"I'll just wait at the bar," Mihika said, but not before her hand trailed down Sidharth's arm in a gesture that was anything but casual. "Don't keep me waiting too long,jaan."
The endearment—the same one Sidharth had texted Advika two weeks ago—felt like a blade between her ribs.
