Mrs. Gill | Completed |

Chapter18~

The champagne flute clinked against her manicured nails, the sound echoing in the opulent living room.
"Mother,"
 Sanya hissed, her voice laced with venom,
" I need you to help me get back at Vrushali." 

Punya Bhatia, a woman whose reputation for fierce ambition rivaled her husband's movie star charisma, raised an eyebrow.
"Darling, you know we can't interfere in anything right now. You're engaged to that young businessman..." 

 "I don't want to marry him,"
Sanya spat, the air around her turning icy.
" I don't want him. I want revenge. Vrushali humiliated me"

 Punya sipped her wine, her gaze sharp and calculating.
"you're talking about the girl Shubman married?"

 "Yes! That simpleton! She stood up to me, mother! She made me look foolish in front of everyone! even Shubman yelled at me for her in my own engagement party" 
The rage in Sanya's voice was palpable. 

"But darling, you were the one who..."
Punya began, but Sanya cut her off.

 "Doesn't matter! I need her to suffer. I need her to know what it feels like to be made a fool of" Sanya declared, her eyes burning with a cold, relentless fire. 

 Punya, despite her initial hesitation, saw a spark of her own ambition reflected in her daughter. This was the Sanya she recognized, the one who would climb over mountains to achieve her goals.

 "Alright, darling"
she said, a hint of a smile twisting her lips.
"Let's teach her a lesson."

 The air in the room crackled with silent promises of retribution, fueled by an ego that knew no bounds and a thirst for vengeance that would leave nothing untouched.

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VRUSHALI'S POV

The sun, a blushing bride peeking over the horizon, cast a rosy glow over the quaint little apartment nestled amidst blooming jasmine vines. The air was thick with the sweet scent of freshly brewed coffee and the gentle rustle of the morning breeze whispering through the leaves. Inside, I, am  in a sunshine-yellow saree, humming a happy tune as I am preparing breakfast.

Shubman, his dark hair tousled and eyes still sleepy, emerged from the bedroom, his smile as bright as the sunrise. He wrapped his arms around me from behind, his warmth melting away the last vestiges of her morning chill.

'Good morning, my love,'
 he whispered, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine.

'Good morning, my sunshine,'
 I chirped, turning in his embrace, our laughter echoing through the cozy space.

The first few months of our marriage felt like a fairytale. Every morning began with stolen kisses, lazy mornings in bed, and the sweet smell of freshly brewed coffee that filled our little haven. Even the mundane tasks felt infused with a magic woven from love and laughter.

Shubman had this way of looking at me – an intensity that made me feel like the only woman in the world. He'd tell me the most ridiculous jokes, making me laugh till tears streamed down my face. He'd hold my hand while we walked, intertwining our fingers with a tenderness that made my heart swell. Every moment with him was a celebration of our love, a symphony of joy orchestrated by the invisible strings of our connection.

This particular morning, we sat on the porch, the aroma of toasted bread and jam mingling with the sweet scent of the blooming jasmine. The world seemed to stand still, a backdrop to our shared happiness. We sipped our coffee, our fingers brushing against each other.

'I never thought I'd find someone who could make me feel so complete,'
I whispered, gazing at his profile.

He tilted my chin with his thumb, his eyes meeting mine.
'And I never thought I'd find someone who could steal my heart with just one glance.'