Under Everyone's Eyes
The banquet hall shimmered with light.
Crystal chandeliers reflected off polished marble floors, and the soft hum of conversations filled the air—business partners, relatives, socialites, all gathered under one roof. It was the first public event since the engagement announcement, and everyone had come with the same curiosity.
To see her.
Najma stood near the entrance, fingers lightly clutching the edge of her dupatta.
She wore a simple yet elegant outfit, chosen carefully—not to impress, but not to disappear either. Still, she felt the weight of every gaze that landed on her.
"You look tense," Ranveer said quietly beside her.
She glanced at him. "I'm being observed."
He followed her gaze across the room. "Let them."
She exhaled. "That's easy for you to say."
He offered his arm without a word.
She hesitated only a second before placing her hand on it.
The moment they stepped forward together, the room shifted.
Whispers followed.
"That's her…"
"So calm…"
"She doesn't look nervous at all."
Najma kept her posture steady, her expression composed.
Inside, she was counting breaths.
Twinkle stood nearby with Rangeer, watching closely.
"They look… different," Twinkle murmured.
Rangeer nodded slowly. "Yes."
Not uncomfortable.
Not distant.
Balanced.
The thought stung more than he expected.
As they moved through the hall, introductions followed one after another.
"This is Najma Takur—soon to be Sign."
Najma offered polite smiles, nods, soft responses.
"She speaks so little," someone whispered.
Ranveer heard it.
"So do I," he replied coolly.
The room quieted.
Najma looked at him in surprise.
"You didn't have to—"
"Yes," he said simply. "I did."
Something shifted then.
A small, unexpected warmth settled between them.
Later, they found a brief moment alone near the balcony.
"You handled that well," Ranveer said.
"So did you," she replied.
He studied her face. "You don't try to win people over."
"I don't believe in performing," she said. "I believe in being consistent."
He nodded. "That's rare."
She met his gaze. "So is honesty."
For the first time, Ranveer smiled—genuine and unguarded.
"You surprise me, Najma."
She looked away. "That wasn't my intention."
"Still," he said, "it's happening."
Across the hall, Rachel Parulkar had arrived unnoticed.
Her eyes locked onto Ranveer—and then shifted to Najma.
So this was her.
Not loud.
Not flashy.
Not threatening.
Rachel's lips curved into a slow smile.
Perfect.
Underestimation was a weapon.
As the evening drew to a close, Ranveer and Najma stood once more under the chandelier, hands loosely intertwined.
"You're quiet again," he said.
She smiled faintly. "I'm thinking."
"About?"
"About how strange it is," she said softly, "to belong somewhere without asking."
Ranveer looked at her—really looked at her.
And for the first time, he wondered:
What kind of past creates a woman like this?
As they left the hall together, the whispers followed.
But this time, Najma didn't feel alone beneath them.