The narrow alleys of the old chawl buzzed with life — hawkers shouting, children laughing, the smell of frying pakoras filling the humid air.
But as Sarvansh stepped into that world, the noise seemed to fade.
His boots clicked against the stony floor; a confident smirk played at his lips.
"Jalpanchi… or should I say JP," he murmured to himself, twirling a small glass bottle between his fingers. Inside, a dark fog swirled restlessly.
"Your dearest husband is paying you a visit. I hope you're ready to welcome me — because soon… you'll dance to my tune."
The sunlight caught the sharp edges of his face — that same face as Vihaan's, but the gleam in his eyes was colder, hungrier.
His long hair brushed against his shoulders as he strolled toward Gauri's home, the swagger of a man who owned both charm and danger in equal measure.
He reached the door and knocked softly.
A few seconds later, Charvi opened it, smiling brightly. "Jiju! You're here!"
Sarvansh tilted his head, smiling with deceptive warmth. "Where's Gauri?"
"In the room," Charvi replied innocently.
"Can I?" he asked, playfully raising his brows.
"Of course, Jiju!" Charvi said, stepping aside. "You seem… really lively today."
Sarvansh chuckled as he entered, his gaze sweeping across the small but tidy home. "You could say that, Charvi. I'm in… high spirits."
She smiled, shrugging, unaware of the darkness hidden behind his easy tone.
---
Inside the room, Gauri stood with her back to the door, her hair dripping wet as she dried it with a towel. She had just changed after washing off a stain from her saree.
As she flicked her hair to the side, droplets of water flew across the air — sprinkling onto Sarvansh's face.
He froze for a moment — then slowly brushed his hand across his cheek, the smirk deepening.
The sight before him — the graceful woman unaware of the danger behind her — stirred something dark and curious in him.
He quietly uncorked the bottle, letting the inky fog seep out and spread through the room like invisible smoke.
Then Gauri turned around. "Vihaan!" she gasped softly, startled but quickly smiling. In her eyes, it was her husband — her safe place.
She took a step forward but her foot slipped on a patch of spilled water.
Sarvansh caught her effortlessly, their bodies close, her breath brushing against his collar.
Their eyes met — her gaze full of affection, his of cunning fascination.
"This feels like one of those movie moments," Sarvansh said in a low voice, lips curving into a teasing grin. "Where the heroine slips and the hero catches her. Now we just need some background music…"
Gauri laughed softly, straightening herself. "You and your filmi lines, Vihaan. What's gotten into you and what are you doing here?"
"Is it a crime to visit my wife?" Sarvansh asked smoothly, leaning against the shelf like he belonged there. "I just… felt like seeing you. So I came."
Her smile softened — unaware of the sinister fog curling unseen around her ankles, ready to twist fate itself.
The air between them shimmered with quiet tension — Gauri still smiling from the playful banter, Sarvansh still pretending to be her loving husband.
Gauri folded her arms, tilting her head. "It's not a crime, Vihaan. But on that note… let me recite a poem for you."
Sarvansh chuckled softly, feigning interest. "A poem? From you? This should be… entertaining."
Gauri playfully rolled her eyes and began, her voice soft and melodic —
> "In every storm, I look for your face,
In every silence, I hear your grace.
You are the breath my soul has known,
My heart's temple, my very own."
She finished with a sweet, expectant smile — like a child waiting for praise.
Sarvansh blinked twice, then dramatically sighed. "That's… very bad. You're a terrible poet, Gauri."
Her mouth fell open in mock offense. "Oh really? Then why are you even here, Mister ACP? Maybe you should just leave!"
He laughed — low, teasing — and in one swift motion, pulled her close, their faces only inches apart.
Gauri's breath hitched as her hand rested against his chest — right over his heart.
But something changed.
Sarvansh froze.
For a fleeting moment, he felt the heartbeat — fast, human, real.
And it unsettled him.
His eyes flickered, that dangerous smirk fading for a second before he abruptly stepped back, masking his reaction with a cough.
"Ahem… Gauri, can you get me some water? I… feel a bit thirsty."
Concern flashed in her eyes. "Oh! Wait here, I'll bring it."
As she hurried toward the kitchen, Sarvansh's mask of charm slipped — replaced by a darker gleam. He looked toward the doorway where she'd gone, and whispered to himself, his tone low and laced with envy.
"No wonder Vihaan fell for you… you have something about you. That innocence, that light…"
He chuckled darkly. "But I'm not that easy to fall for someone. There's only one thing I love — power."
With that, he vanished into thin air, the faint trace of the black fog dispersing with him.
Moments later, Gauri returned, holding a glass of water and smiling. "Vihaan, here—"
She stopped mid-sentence, her smile fading as she looked around the empty room.
"Vihaan? Where did you go?" she murmured, confused. The glass trembled slightly in her hand as a faint chill brushed her skin.
Unseen by her, the air near the window shimmered — the last trace of Sarvansh's laughter echoing faintly in the wind.
---