A week had passed in a blur of rehearsals, planning, and excitement. The cultural fest was finally here. The entire college was buzzing with anticipation, and the decorations made the campus look magical—fairy lights draped across the walls, vibrant banners swaying in the breeze, and a grand stage set in the middle of the open ground.

Anshika and Ritika arrived at 4:20 PM, ensuring everything was in place before the event began.

"Sab kuch ready hai?" Anshika asked the technical team, handing over their playlist.

(Is everything ready?)

"Haan, bas tumhare performance ka sequence confirm karna hai," one of the organizers replied.

(Yes, we just need to confirm your performance sequence.)

Ritika clapped her hands excitedly. "Bas ab dhamaal machayenge!"

(Now we'll set the stage on fire!)

They quickly discussed the sequence of their performance and took their places in the audience. The principal took the stage, clearing his throat as the microphone screeched slightly before adjusting.

"Students, today's event is all about celebrating your talents. Give it your best shot and most importantly, enjoy yourselves!"

The students clapped, but the next announcement made Anshika freeze.

"Now, it is my honor to introduce today's chief guest—Mr. Kashish Chandravanshi!"

The moment Kashish's name was announced, the entire college erupted into screams. Girls jumped from their seats, whispering and giggling in excitement.

"Oh my God! Kashish Chandravanshi is here?"

"He's even hotter in real life!"

"I hope he notices me today!"

Anshika, however, rolled her eyes.

Ritika nudged her playfully. "Arey, tera hero aa gaya!"

(Hey, your hero has arrived!)

Anshika shot her a glare. "Band kar nautanki."

(Stop this drama.)

But as Kashish took the mic, his deep, authoritative voice sent a strange shiver down her spine.

"Best of luck to all the students. Perform well, and most importantly—enjoy the moment."

His gaze swept over the crowd, and for a second, their eyes met.

Anshika quickly looked away, pretending to be uninterested.

But Kashish smirked.

"Mujhe ignore karne ki aadat daal rahi ho, Jaan?"

(Are you getting into the habit of ignoring me, sweetheart?)

The performances kicked off one by one, with groups showcasing their talents in music, dance, and drama. Finally, it was Anshika and Ritika's turn.

Backstage, the energy was electric. The entire group was getting into position, and the music was cued up.

Anshika and Ritika's attire was a blend of classical and modern—flowing red and gold lehengas, delicate ghungroos on their ankles, paired with a contemporary twist of sleek makeup and high ponytails.

"Ready?" Ritika asked, excitement sparkling in her eyes.

Anshika took a deep breath and nodded. "Aaj toh stage hila denge." (Today, we'll shake the stage.)

As soon as the first beats of the instrumental music filled the air, the audience fell silent.

The dance began with graceful classical moves, their ghungroos creating a mesmerizing rhythm. Then, as the beat transitioned into a modern tempo, their movements shifted—fluid, powerful, and captivating.

The crowd erupted into cheers as they executed their final move, ending in a perfect pose.

The moment their performance ended, the audience roared with applause.

"Bro, that was insane! And Anshika... wasn't she looking breathtaking?"

"Yeah, man! She looked like an angel!"

Hearing this, Kashish's jaw clenched.

His grip tightened on the armrest of his chair.

"Yeh sab log meri Jaan ko dekh kar itne pagal kyun ho rahe hain?"

(Why is everyone going crazy over my Jaan?)

His possessiveness flared dangerously.

After the performance, Anshika was about to return to her seat when a strong hand suddenly grabbed her wrist and yanked her away.

Her breath hitched.

"Hey! Chhodiye mujhe!" she gasped, struggling against the grip.

(Hey! Let me go!)

She turned around and froze.

Kashish Chandravansh.

"Tu... tu kya kar raha hai?" she stammered, trying to pull away.

(You... what are you doing?)

Kashish's lips curled into a slow, knowing smirk.

"Bas baat karni thi."

(I just wanted to talk.)

"But I don't even know you personally!" Anshika protested, attempting to escape.

Before she could, Kashish swiftly pinned her against a wall.

Anshika's breath caught in her throat.

"Y-You can't do this," she whispered.

Kashish's eyes drifted to her neckline.

Flashes of the boys complimenting her beauty ran through his mind.

Something dark and possessive burned inside him.

Without thinking, he removed his black suit jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

"Yeh pehno," he ordered, his voice dangerously low.

(Wear this.)

Anshika frowned, pushing it off. "Kyun? Mere kapdon mein kya problem hai?"

(Why? What's wrong with my clothes?)

Kashish took a step closer, his breath fanning against her ear.

"Mujhe pasand nahi ki koi aur tujhe is nazar se dekhe."

(I don't like it when others look at you like that.)

Her eyes widened. "Excuse me?! What kind of—"

She was about to argue when he cut her off.

"Jacket pehno, warna mujhe aur bhi kuch karna padega." (Wear the jacket, or I'll have to do something else.)

Anshika huffed in frustration but quickly pulled on the jacket to get rid of him.

She shot him a glare and mumbled under her breath in Marathi, "Zaala veda ha manus! Dusryanchya ayushat nak kupshaychi naste!"

(Crazy man! Shouldn't interfere in others' lives!)

Kashish smirked. 

Anshika groaned, rolling her eyes, and stormed away, muttering more curse words in Marathi as Kashish watched her retreating form with pure amusement and dangerous possessiveness.

"Meri Jaan abhi bhi samajh nahi paayi ki voh sirf meri hai."

(My sweetheart still doesn't understand that she belongs only to me.)

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