DIVYA

I quickly sat up in bed and picked up the call. "Hello," I said in my sleepy voice. I heard a familiar voice on the other end.

"You're sleeping till now?"

I looked at the clock; it was 8 in the morning. "I slept late last night," I replied.

"Anyway, there's a family dinner tonight, and I want you to come. Don't be late," she said and hung up without waiting for my response.

I couldn't believe it. She didn’t bother to come to my art show yesterday, and now she was calling to invite me to a family dinner. But this wasn’t new. I was used to her cold behavior.

She only called me when she needed something; otherwise, she ignored me like I didn’t exist. To the world, she was my mother, but to me, she was a stranger.

My eyes filled with tears as I recalled her coldness. She was my mother, but she never treated me like her child. I always tried to impress her, but she was never happy with me. In the end, I realized that no matter how hard I tried, she would never be satisfied.

I wiped my tears and got out of bed. It was Sunday, and I had planned to sleep in, but one phone call had ruined my plan.

I took a long shower and put on an oversized T-shirt that reached my thighs. I dried my hair with a hairdryer and grabbed a sandwich for breakfast, then settled on the sofa to watch TV for a few hours. Eventually, I got tired and ordered Chinese for lunch since I wasn't in the mood to cook and my groceries were out of stock.

I made a mental note to buy groceries tomorrow. After lunch, I took a power nap; I needed all the energy I could muster for the so-called family dinner. God only knows what’s going to happen tonight.

By 7 PM, I was ready for the dinner. I wore a black sweater and blue ripped jeans. Since it was a family dinner, I didn’t bother to dress up. I knew I’d be ignored as usual.

After an hour of driving, I finally reached my destination. I parked and got out, standing in front of a beautiful mansion. My small apartment was nothing compared to this place, but I still loved it.

I walked to the main door and rang the doorbell. After a few seconds, a maid answered.

"Who are you?" she asked rudely.

She seemed new, which explained why she didn’t recognize me. Plus, I rarely visited.

"I’m Mr. and Mrs. Aggarwal’s daughter," I said politely. She looked at me suspiciously but eventually let me in.

When I walked into the living room, I found my mom sitting elegantly on the sofa, a magazine in her hand. She was everything I could only dream of being.

"Good evening, Mom," I greeted her.

She looked up, and I could see anger in her eyes. Why was she angry?

"What are you wearing?" she snapped.

'Clothes,' I really wanted to say, but I knew being rebellious wouldn't help. I decided to keep my mouth shut.

"An important guest is coming for dinner, and you’re wearing this? Learn something from your sister," she shouted.

"You didn’t inform me about it. I thought it was just a family dinner," I replied in a low voice.

"Stop arguing with me," she said, glaring at me. Arguing? For your information, this is not arguing but justifying myself. I was about to say something when I heard a familiar voice.

"Mom, what happened? Why are you shouting?"

I turned around and saw my elder sister Diya walking towards us.

"Look at her clothes, Diya," Mom said, pointing a finger at me. I clenched my fists in anger. "Give her something appropriate to wear." With that, Mom walked out of the room.

"Are you okay?" Diya asked, giving me a warm smile. She was the only one who truly cared for me.

"I'm fine, don't worry," I replied.

"Divu, I missed you so much," she said, hugging me.

"I missed you too," I replied.

"I'm sorry I couldn't make it to your art show, but I'm sure it was a success," she apologized.

"How do you know it was a success?" I asked her.

"Don't tell me you didn’t read today's newspaper," she said.

I'm not a fan of newspapers, but what does my success have to do with the newspaper? Diya clarified my doubt.

"Divu, you're on the cover page for your amazing painting and generosity. I am so proud of you, my little sister."

At least there was someone in my family who was happy for me.

"Come, let me give you something to wear before Mom gets angry again," she said, dragging me towards her room.

After five minutes, Diya came out of her closet with a beautiful white off-shoulder lace cocktail dress.

"This will look good on you," she said.

Luckily, Diya and I were almost the same size. I quickly put on the dress, and then Diya did my makeup and hairstyle. She tied my hair in a beautiful bun.

"Perfect," she said, smiling at me in the mirror. "Now you look stunning."

"Thank you, Diya," I said, hugging her again. "I don’t know what I’d do without you."

"Don’t mention it," she replied. "Now, let's go and face the evening together."

"So who is coming for dinner?" I asked Diya as we descended the staircase.

"I don't know," she replied casually.

"I thought you knew," I said, feeling a bit lost.

"Well, I'm not sure, but I think it's a new business partner of Dad's," she replied. I nodded, realizing I didn’t know much about my father's business affairs.

When we reached the living room, I saw a very handsome man sitting on the sofa. I assumed he was our guest.

"This is our daughter Diya and Divya," Mom introduced us.

"And he is our new business partner, Mr. Raghav Sinha," Dad added.

Raghav Sinha! Why did his name sound so familiar?

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Sinha," I greeted him. But as I looked into his eyes, a chill ran down my spine. They were cold, and when he took my hand for a handshake, I felt a strange electric current pass through my body.

Was I seriously attracted to him? Oh God! I must be losing my mind. He seemed like a dangerous person, so why did I feel this strange attraction?

After our brief introduction, we walked to the dining room for dinner. I sat beside Diya and quietly ate, finding it difficult especially with someone staring at me continuously.

Raghav was talking with my Dad, but his eyes kept flicking to me. He was observing me, and I felt like prey under his gaze. I really wanted to get out of there now.

Finally, the dinner came to an end, and I was relieved about it. After a few minutes, I decided to take my leave.

"Mom, it's getting late, so I will leave," I said in a subdued voice. Before Mom could respond, someone else spoke up.

"Your younger daughter doesn't live with you," Raghav said in his husky voice. His tone was commanding, dominating.

"You know this generation wants to be independent. Although we have such a big mansion, she still wants to live alone," Mom replied, shooting a glare in my direction.

Independent, my foot. I was so tired of her taunts that I had no choice but to move out.

"Why don't you stay tonight?" Mom insisted, reaching out to hold my hand. She squeezed it so tightly that her nails dug into my skin. What a drama queen! She should get an Oscar for her acting skills.

"No, I have some work," I replied firmly, pulling my hand back. I looked down at the red marks on my skin. I knew my mother would never hurt me physically.

I said my goodbyes and walked out of the mansion, inhaling the fresh air. It was suffocating in there. I felt like a bird in a cage, but now I was a free bird.

Back home, I changed my clothes and lay down on the bed. I was so tired. When I closed my eyes, his cold, grey eyes came to mind.

Why were his eyes so cold? Why did he look at me like I was prey to him? There were so many unanswered questions, and only one person could give me the answers. But I didn't know if I had the courage to ask.

Maybe this was the first and last time I would meet him. With these thoughts swirling in my mind, I eventually fell asleep, unaware that I had caught the devil's attention.