Chapter 65 Cute Jeleousy
Moments later, Rimjhim steps out of the house.
She looks breathtaking.
She is wearing a white shimmer fish-cut gown that hugs her figure perfectly. Her long hair is left open, flowing softly, and butterfly earrings sparkle near her face. Tonight, there is no doubt, she looks stunning beyond words.
Vihaan freezes in place, unable to look away. His breath catches as Rimjhim walks toward him with a warm, gentle smile.
“Shall we go?” she asks softly.
Still stunned, Vihaan blurts out, “You had this dress?”
Rimjhim shakes her head slightly. “No.”
Confused, Vihaan asks, “Then how did you get it?”
Before she can answer, another voice interrupts,
“I got it for Sister-in-law”
Both of them turn as Ruhi walks toward them. She is dressed in white shimmer shorts and looks absolutely adorable. Her long hair is tied into a ponytail with a butterfly ribbon. Large earrings sparkle near her ears, and long white shoes complete her look.
Still annoyed, Vihaan mutters, “You’re sure you’re not wearing something too big?”
Ruhi instantly understands that he is taunting her. Her mood is already off, and his words sting deeply. She frowns and says, “Please, bro, My mood is really bad. Don’t say anything. I’ve only just managed to get ready and come out.”
Rimjhim quickly steps in, trying to ease the tension.
“Oh no, don’t be upset. He’s just saying things for no reason.”
Samar glances at them once, then silently gets into his car with Ishani. Vihaan, Rimjhim, and Ruhi get into the other car.
As the cars speed toward the farmhouse, silence hangs heavily inside. Vihaan is drowning in guilt, Ruhi is lost in her sadness, and Rimjhim sits wrapped in quiet confusion. No one speaks a single word during the drive.
Lately, Neeti has been extremely frustrated.
Wherever she goes, Shorya somehow follows her—always with some excuse or the other. Whether it’s the kitchen, the garden, or her room, he always finds a reason to be around.
Right now, Neeti stands in front of the mirror, getting ready. She is wearing a simple kurti and jeans, yet she looks incredibly beautiful and fresh. Her naturally curly hair frames her face, making her look even more innocent.
Just then, the door opens, and Shorya walks in.
He is dressed in a sharp black three-piece suit with subtle silver detailing. He looks undeniably handsome, carrying a quiet confidence. The moment he steps inside, his eyes widen in shock.
Neeti, who was in simple clothes earlier now stands in front of him wearing a black one-piece shorts dress.
Shorya freezes, staring at her. He has never seen her in such a bold outfit. Her curly hair cascades down her back, and the dress is completely backless. For a moment, his mind stops working. Is she really ready for the party, or is she deliberately trying to drive him crazy?
Neeti notices his reflection in the mirror, turns around casually, and says, “I’m almost ready. Shall we go?”
Shorya immediately strides toward her and grabs her arm.
“What are you wearing?” he demands.
Neeti blinks innocently.
“It’s a dress. Why? Don’t I look good?”
Shorya’s voice rises, “This dress? It’s completely backless!”
Neeti shrugs calmly. “So what? That’s how party dresses are supposed to be.”
Now visibly upset, Shorya says firmly,
“I’m not taking you like this. If you wear this, I’m not going.”
Neeti replies without hesitation, “No problem. I’ll go with the driver.”
Fuming, Shorya snaps, “I’m telling Dad right now. Look at what you’re wearing!”
Neeti smiles defiantly and says, “Sure. Let’s go. I’ll come.”
He grabs her wrist and pulls her downstairs, straight to where Mr. Shekhawat, their father is sitting, deeply engrossed in his newspaper, completely lost in his own world.
Shorya, still annoyed, says, “Dad, look at your lovely daughter-in-law and what she’s wearing to the party.”
Neeti hesitates for a moment but then stands still.
Mr. Shekhawat briefly glances at Neeti, then at Shorya. “She looks fine. What’s the issue?”
Shorya groans, “Dad! Just look at her clothes. Do you really think it’s okay to wear something this short? Everyone at the party will stare at her.”
Without even lifting his eyes from the newspaper, Mr. Shekhawat replies calmly, “That’s exactly what party outfits are like. Besides, my daughter-in-law can wear whatever she wants. There’s nothing wrong with it.”
Shorya’s face falls. His expression turns sour, and Neeti can barely control her laughter.
As she walks out, she teases him, “Come quickly now. Don’t be late.”
Shorya reluctantly follows her to the car, still brooding. They both sit inside, and the car speeds off, but the silence between them is deafening. Neither of them says a word during the entire ride. Inside, Neeti smiles to herself, amused by his possessiveness and jealousy.
Within moments, the car pulls up in front of a grand palace so regal it feels like it belongs to kings and emperors. The towering structure is made of white marble, shimmering under exquisite lighting. As they step out of the car, a royal red carpet stretches ahead, flanked by golden lamps and intricate floral decorations that enhance the palace’s breathtaking beauty.
Tonight is no ordinary night. It is an international business gala, drawing elite businessmen from across the globe, along with famous models and top-tier media personnel. The air is filled with luxury and sophistication. Expensive cars line the entrance, designer suits and glittering gowns dominate the scene, and the entire atmosphere feels dreamlike elegant and majestic.
Vihan, Ruhi, Rimjhim, Samar and I step out of our car, taking in the magnificent sight. As we enter the palace, I find myself momentarily awestruck, unsure of what to admire first the dazzling chandeliers, the mirror-lined walls, or the soft classical music echoing through the halls. Everywhere I look, elegance and opulence blend seamlessly.
For me and Rimjhim, this is our first time attending such a grand, high-society event. My breath quickens with every step. My heart pounds uncontrollably, and my hands tremble slightly. I can feel the nervousness creeping in despite my efforts to stay calm.
Sensing my anxiety, Samar glances at me. He notices immediately he always does. Without saying a word, he gently takes my hands and pulls me closer, wrapping his arms around me protectively. His presence steadies me instantly.
His voice is soft, warm, and reassuring.
“I’m here, sweetheart… let’s go.”
I lean into his chest and take a deep breath, letting his calm wash over me. Slowly, my racing heart begins to settle. Samar then holds my hand firmly, shielding me from the overwhelming grandeur around us, and confidently leads me inside.
TO BE COUNTINUE...!!!