A maid fixed his bow tie, batting her eyelashes at Ohas who stared at his reflection in the dirty mirror. He had dressed up as a waiter to sneak into the dinner event, his face looking sharp in a white and black tuxedo. As sharp as his face were the countless knives and blades tucked in different parts of his outfit, complete with a gun and a vial of poison. All to kill one man.

"Who is Naina?" the maid asked, hearing that name when he had taken her against the counter in the pantry. "Even the mistress of this house is named Naina. She's a dayaan, troubled us a lot to put this house in place for today. I heard that she's not even educated. How did the master marry her? She's a---"

Words lodged in her throat as the knife scraped her flesh, threatening to slit it and snatch those words out if she didn't swallow them back.

"Not a word," Ohas growled, keeping it so close against her throat that she didn't dare to move. "Go."

Ducking, the maid scurried out of the room, her gasping breath so shallow and annoying that Ohas nearly shot her in irritation. Those malicious whispers like wind never left Ohas and Naina, rustling their leaves wherever they went as they tried desperately to find roots somewhere, to find out where they belonged. Ohas knew for certain that Naina didn't belong here so he was ready to uproot her, take her away far from the rich and the poor. He had to kill her bastard of a husband first before it would be too late.

Too late because in today's dinner, something momentous was going to occur that would not only change their lives but thousands of others.

Tucking a handkerchief into his shirt pocket, Ohas strode briskly into the hall and up the stairs when he heard voices shouting, "Hey! Where are you going?! We're not allowed there!"

Grabbing a nearby trolley which contained chai and biscuits, he proceeded towards the bedrooms, not giving two flips at the voices urging him to come down. Where was she? A growing desire to see her festered in his heart, quickening his steps in the most strange way that he had never felt before. Before he could get angry at himself for whatever the heck was going on with him, he stopped at the entrance of a dark room, watching a familiar figure step out of her clothes.

A streak of moonlight filtered in through the slit in the window, slashing her body with a luminosity that made her bare back glisten. He wanted to hold those curves of her body, take her in the darkness, love her up in hushed silence before the moonlight would claim her whole. And just like that, the silvery magic dissipated as she pulled the silk dress up her body, hiding the soft parts of her that he ached to feel under him.

It had to be lust that commanded his soul, naked, pure lust and nothing else.

Quietly, he walked towards her and took the zip from her struggling hands, drawing it up. "Oh Ahanay, thank God, you're here. I didn't know how to greet those rich guests of yours---"

"It's me," he snapped, unable to control the rage surging within him at that name. "Why did you think it was him?"

"Why not?" She challenged, clutching the dress that he wanted to rip off her body. "It's his house. He's my husband . . . But why are you here? And what are you doing in those- those waiter's clothes?"

"It's time," he said, trying his best to maintain his composure. He could feel tempestuous storms rising up at those careless words thrown at him, storms that threatened to destroy both him and her. "It's time to kill him."

"What?"

"Who's there?" At those words, Naina's eyes widened as they connected with his in urgency, he could see a million thoughts racing in her mind, flashing in those eyes. With a sudden start, she pushed him towards the closet, but he wouldn't budge, not caring the least about the consequences. Out of nowhere, he felt a sweaty hand grasping his and her soft body almost pressing into him.

"Please," she begged, her worried eyes never leaving his.

Without wasting another second, he caught her lips in his and tightly wrapped his arms around her, taking from her kisses that should have lasted for seconds, but grew dangerously longer with each approaching footstep, before she broke out of his grip and shoved him away.

"Who's there?" Ahanay said, entering the room, his eyes flickering between Naina and Ohas.

"Tea, madam?" Ohas asked, wiping his lips with a wry smile and picking up the kettle and teacup from the trolley. The teacups clinked, disturbing the dead silence that had settled in the room. "Madam?"

"N-No," Naina stuttered, staggering back in confused fear. "No. Yes, I-I mean yes."

He handed her a cup that she took with shivering hands, behaving unlike herself, not quite recovering from the shock of the kiss.

As if Ahanay suspected something, he walked towards his Naina and placed his hand on the small of her back. "We need to go down." Ohas stooped to prepare another cup of tea but was quickly dismissed. "You." He looked up to meet Ahanay's intense, dark eyes. "Leave."

Ohas quickly removed his knife from his shoe that glinted in the moonlight, but just as he was about to attack, two waiters stumbled into the room. "Oh, you're here!" They quickly bowed down to Ahanay. "Sorry sir, he's new here. He didn't know you and madam were here."

"Leave. All of you," Ahanay said, his frowning eyes focused on Ohas.

"Right away, sir," the waiters responded, each holding one arm of Ohas. "Come, oye---" At Ohas' cold eyes, both of them shut up.

"Why don't we go down!" Naina suddenly burst out in a shrill voice, latching on to Ahanay's arm. "Let's go. This dress is making me pull my stomach in and I can't anymore. I need some air."

She pulled Ahanay outside as Ohas glowered at them, the rage pumping in his blood, wanting to get rid of Ahanay as soon as possible. Why was she protecting him? Did she forget their plan? Never mind. She didn't know what her husband was scheming behind her back. She didn't know that her husband married her as a favour to the man who helped her acquire whatever was left of the poor. She didn't know that her husband, the CEO of Kapoor Builders and Sons wanted to strike up a deal in today's dinner that would rob the poor, her parents and her neighbours of their chawls in Gandhinagar where he would erect huge, luxurious towers for the mega rich. She didn't know that all this time while she was plotting to snatch his property, he had already laid a claim on hers and thousands of others like her.

Trying hard to maintain his calmness, he started to draw a mental map of the entire house in his mind, hatching plans and traps to kill him all by himself. Not for her or him. But for the thousands in whom he saw his own childhood memories echo, of playing hide and seek in the gallis where the gutters ran like rivers or using paan-stained walls as slates to learn alphabets. No matter how messed up their lives had been, it had still been theirs, beautiful.

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