A few days after the date, Alvin's stepmother, who usually avoided coming anywhere near his room, appeared at his door. With a fake smile plastered on her face, she greeted him, "Good morning!"
"Son, I have found a bride for you!" Mrs. Thakur announced, confidently finding a place for herself on the bed, brushing aside the piles of files strewn across it.
Alvin barely glanced at her, his focus on wrapping the sleek black tie around his neck. "Really?" he replied, his tone flat and uninterested. There was no way to oppose this woman, and frankly, he didn't care enough to try.
"Yes, the granddaughter of Geetanjali Kapoor from SITARA Ltd." she continued, as she made her way to his stepson, seeing him struggling with the tie.
"That's a fine match." he said as a simple comment to appease his stepmother. "And what is the granddaughter's name?"
"Vivian Kapoor," she said, almost ready to turn him around and help with the tie.
Alvin froze, his hands stilling on the tie. His heart skipped a beat as her words sunk in. Vivian Kapoor? Before she could offer help, he whipped around to face her, his face drained of color.
"She's my ex," he whispered, the shock reverberating in his voice. It took him a moment to fully comprehend what his stepmother had just said.
"Oh?" Mrs. Thakur's eyebrow arched slightly. The surprise was brief, replaced by the cold calculation she usually wore. Stepping forward, she reached for his tie, pulling it sharply to fix it with practiced ease.
"Not her, Mother," Alvin protested, his voice tight with anxiety. His chest constricted as memories of Vivian surfaced, unbidden and unwanted. This couldn't be happening.
Mrs. Thakur's expression darkened. A vein of irritation pulsed beneath her calm facade, and she tugged the tie so tight that Alvin gasped for breath.
"Mother?" Her eyes flashed dangerously, narrowing as she met his gaze. Alvin immediately regretted using that word. He knew better.
"I mean... Madam," he corrected, his voice barely a whisper.
With a huff, she released the tie, and he quickly loosened it, sucking in a deep breath. His throat burned slightly, but it was nothing compared to the cold, lingering ache of her contempt. After all these years, he still couldn't grow used to the way she treated him — like he was nothing but a pawn in her power games.
"If she's your ex, then she must have done something dreadful," Mrs. Thakur remarked, turning toward the door with an air of indifference. "After all, you wouldn't have left her otherwise."
Alvin didn't respond, his throat tight. His mind raced, caught between the shock of seeing Vivian's name linked with his own once again and the seething frustration at his stepmother's indifference to his emotions.
"Does that mean she'll make you suffer?" She stopped at the doorway, her voice suddenly sweet, almost amused. Alvin looked up, dread pooling in his gut as he saw the sinister smile spreading across her lips. It was a smile she had kept hidden for years, one he had seen in rare moments when her mask slipped. Today, the mask was gone, and the glee in her eyes made his skin crawl.
"Isn't that what I want, Alvin?" she said, her voice dripping with malice. "And—" She laughed, a cold, wicked sound. "Isn't that what you deserve?"
Her words cut deep, colder than any slap, and with that, she swept out of the room, leaving a trail of satisfaction in her heart. Alvin stood there, rooted to the spot, heart pounding loudly against his ribcage. How had things come to this?
As Mrs. Thakur descended the stairs, her eyes landed on Tanya, her daughter, who was just ascending up, probably to have her morning greetings with her dear stepbrother.
"Tanya," Mrs. Thakur snapped, her voice sharp as a whip. "How many times must I tell you to stay away from that kid?" The command in her tone was slicing hard through her.
Tanya's defiant marble-like eyes glared up at her mother. Ignoring the order, she continued up the stairs. But her wrist was caught before she could pass her mother. In the heat of the moment, Mrs. Thakur pulled her down with a firm grip, dragging her toward the living room at the lower level.
"Let me go!" Tanya spat, yanking her arm free.
"Tanya!" Her mother's voice echoed, loud enough to reach every corner of the house. The butler, Sunil, rushed from the hallway, silently gesturing to the other servants to clear the area. They scattered quickly, sensing the brewing storm.
"Mrs. Thakur, I'm not your puppet," Tanya said, her voice trembling with fury. "I'm not a doll you can control however you like!"
"I am no puppeteer," Mrs. Thakur snapped, in her usual cold tone.
"Oh really?" Tanya crossed her arms, glaring at her mother with the fierce disgust that had been simmering for years.
"Tanya!" Mrs. Thakur's warning grew sharper, her patience wearing thin.
"Gosh, can't you just shut up for once? Your voice keeps piercing my ears almost every day now." Tanya retorted, rubbing her temples dramatically.
At that moment, Alvin appeared at the top of the staircase. His heart sank at the sight before him. He rushed down the stairs, desperate to intervene before things escalated further, but he was too late.
"How long are you going to keep blaming others for—" Tanya's words were cut short by a resounding slap. Mrs. Thakur's hand connected with her daughter's cheek, silencing her instantly.
"Tanya!" Alvin reached his sister in a flash, stepping between her and her mother. His back faced the woman who had just struck his sister, shielding Tanya from another blow.
"You both are useless," Mrs. Thakur muttered under her breath, her tone dripping with disgust as she stormed out of sight.
Tanya collapsed against Alvin, her face hidden in his chest. "Don't look at me," she whispered, her voice barely audible, muffled by the fabric of his shirt.
"Why?" Alvin asked gently, his fingers running through her hair, soft and black with magenta highlights streaking through the ends.
"Because if you look at me, you'll blame yourself. And you'll tell me to stop arguing with Mrs. Thakur," she mumbled, her voice thick with unshed tears.
Alvin's heart broke at her words. He smiled softly, trying to comfort her. "I won't," he promised, his voice soothing.
"Promise?" she asked, her voice soft but vulnerable.
He chuckled lightly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "I swear on my life."
Tanya punched his chest playfully, though her breath came in short gasps, as if she had been holding it in for too long. "You don't need to go that far," she muttered.
Alvin gently touched her swollen cheek, wincing when she hissed in pain. Her skin was reddened, but thankfully, there were no scars that his stepmother usually left on her.
"Sunil," Alvin called softly to the housekeeper, who had been watching silently from the corner. "Get the first aid kit, please."
Sunil bowed and hurried off, returning shortly with the kit. Alvin guided Tanya to the sofa in the living room and knelt in front of her. With gentle hands, he applied ointment to her cheek, carefully.
"Why was she in your room?" Tanya asked quietly, watching him as he worked hard on her merely reddened cheek.
"To inform me that she found a bride for me," Alvin said with a bitter laugh, handing the first aid kit back to Sunil.
"What? Why?" before Alvin could answer that she shot another question. "No! how long are you going to let her control your life? Tell me." Tanya asked, her voice lacing with worry for her elder brother.
"She's just... disturbed," Alvin said, trying to brush off her concern.
"No, she's beyond disturbed," Tanya replied, her voice unwavering. "She's a lost cause. You need to give up on her."
Alvin stood up, brushing off her harsh but truthful words. "I have to leave for work," he said, forcing a smile, though the weight of her words lingered heavily on his mind.