Chapter 7: An Invitation She Couldn't Refuse
The Ruthless King's Claim [Completed]
The college auditorium buzzed with energy as students rehearsed for the much-awaited cultural program. It was the highlight of the year, and everyone was putting their best foot forward. I was no exception. Our team had been working tirelessly for weeks, perfecting every step of our dance performance. Representing West Bengalâs rich heritage through classical dance felt like an honor, but it also came with a lot of pressure.
As I adjusted my costume backstage, Sneha's words echoed in my head. "Youâll be amazing, Kia," she had said this morning before leaving for work. Her confidence in me always brought a smile to my face. If only I could convince myself of the same.
The announcement blared over the speaker, bringing me back to the present. "Attention, everyone. The cultural program will commence in 20 minutes. Participants, please take your positions. A warm welcome to our esteemed judges, representing Rajasthan, Uttar Pradesh, and West Bengal. We are honored to have the chief guest, Mr. Reyaansh Rathore, from Rajasthan, with us today."
My heart stopped mid-beat. Reyaansh Rathore?
---
I tried to steady my breath as I peeked through the backstage curtains. Sure enough, there he was, seated at the center of the judging panel, wearing a sharp black suit that fit him like a glove. His mere presence radiated authority and confidence, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.
His look~
What was he doing here? Of all the people to be the chief guest, why did it have to be him? Memories of Rajasthan flooded my mindâhis intense gaze, his enigmatic smile, the way he had returned my anklet without explanation. And now, after a month of trying to put those thoughts behind me, he was here, larger than life, and impossible to ignore.
"Kiara, you're up next!" a voice called, snapping me out of my daze. I quickly adjusted my dupatta, forcing myself to focus. This wasnât the time to let my nerves get the better of me.
---
The music started, and I stepped onto the stage, my feet moving in rhythm with the beats of the tabla. The familiar flow of the dance calmed me, the movements becoming second nature. For a while, I forgot about the judges, the audience, and even Reyaansh. I danced for myself, pouring my heart into every move, letting the essence of West Bengalâs culture shine through.
As the final note played, I struck my last pose, breathless and exhilarated. The applause was thunderous, echoing through the auditorium. My heart swelled with pride as I bowed and stepped back, my gaze inadvertently landing on Reyaansh.
He was clapping, his eyes locked on mine with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. There was a slight smirk on his lips, as if he knew exactly what he was doing to me. It was unnerving and thrilling all at once.
---
Backstage, I leaned against the wall, trying to catch my breath. My friends surrounded me, congratulating me on the performance, but their words barely registered. All I could think about was Reyaansh and the way he had looked at me.
"Kia, you were amazing!" one of them said, pulling me into a hug.
"Thanks," I replied with a weak smile, still distracted. My gaze wandered back toward the stage, where the judges were now giving their feedback to the performers. I couldnât hear what they were saying, but I noticed the way Reyaansh leaned back in his chair, exuding calm authority as he spoke.
It was then that I realized somethingâthis wasnât a coincidence. Reyaansh Rathore didnât seem like the kind of man who left things to chance. He was here for a reason, and deep down, I had a feeling that reason was me.
---
As the program concluded, the principal invited the chief guest to address the audience. Reyaansh stood, his commanding presence filling the room. His speech was brief but eloquent, praising the students for their hard work and dedication.
âEvents like these remind us of the beauty and diversity of our culture,â he said, his voice smooth and confident. âItâs inspiring to see young talent carry forward these traditions with such passion.â
His eyes scanned the audience, and for a fleeting moment, they landed on me. My breath hitched as our gazes met, and the corner of his lips twitched into a small smile. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but I caught it.
As the crowd erupted into applause, I couldnât shake the feeling that this was just the beginning. Reyaansh Rathore had entered my life once again, and this time, it felt like he wasnât planning on leaving anytime soon.
---
After the program ended, I stayed back with my team to help clean up. The adrenaline from the performance was beginning to wear off, replaced by a nervous anticipation I couldnât quite place. My mind was still spinning with the events of the evening. Reyaansh Rathoreâof all peopleâwas here. Watching. Judging. Smiling. And that small smile felt like it had been meant just for me.
âKia, are you okay?â my friend Neha asked, her voice tinged with concern. âYouâve been zoning out since the performance.â
I forced a smile. âIâm fine, just tired.â It wasnât a lie, but it wasnât the full truth either. How could I explain the storm raging in my chest? The inexplicable pull I felt toward a man I barely knew? No, it was better to keep it to myselfâfor now, at least.
As we packed up, a staff member approached me, holding a note. âKiara Das?â she asked, and I nodded. âThis is for you.â
I frowned, taking the envelope from her hands. My heart raced as I opened it, revealing a neatly folded piece of paper. The handwriting was bold, preciseâundeniably his.
---
"You danced beautifully tonight, sweetheart. I hope you donât mind if we meet again soon. Consider this an invitation you canât refuse."
The words sent a chill down my spine. It wasnât a threatâit wasnât even demandingâbut there was a quiet authority in his tone that made it clear he expected a response. Sweetheart. The word lingered in my mind, warm and intimate, yet unsettling. It was the same name he had called me in Rajasthan, and somehow it felt even more personal now.
I folded the note and slipped it into my bag, glancing around to see if he was nearby. But the hall was nearly empty, and there was no sign of him. My heart sank in disappointment, though I wasnât sure why. Part of me wanted to see him again, to demand answers. Another part wanted to run as far away from him as possible.
Neha waved me over, breaking my thoughts. âCome on, letâs head out before weâre locked in here,â she joked. I nodded, forcing myself to focus on her words. I couldnât let my friends notice how distracted I wasâtheyâd never let me live it down.
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The ride home was a blur. I stared out the car window, replaying the evening in my head. Why had he written me a note? What did he mean by "an invitation I couldnât refuse"? And most importantly, how was I supposed to respond?
Sneha greeted me at the door with a warm hug, her eyes sparkling with pride. âYou were incredible tonight, Kia!â she gushed, pulling me inside. âMom and Dad are so proud of youâthey havenât stopped talking about your performance.â
âThanks, Di,â I replied, managing a small smile. My parents were indeed beaming, their usual reserved demeanor replaced with genuine joy. It was a rare sight, and I cherished it, even as my thoughts remained elsewhere.
---
That night, as I lay in bed, I pulled out the note again, reading it under the dim light of my bedside lamp. Reyaansh Rathore was a man of mystery, but one thing was clearâhe wasnât done with me yet. I could feel it in the way his words lingered, in the way his presence seemed to overshadow everything else.
I closed my eyes, clutching the note tightly. Whatever was happening between us, I wasnât sure if I was ready for it. But a small, traitorous part of me was curiousâcurious to see where this connection, this strange dance between us, would lead.