Draped for the Devil - 3
775 Words
Zara returned to her seat, her steps slower than before. She sat down without a word, her gaze fixed on the floor. She didn’t lift her head.
She couldn’t.
His words were still echoing in her mind.
“You’re looking too beautiful.”
They repeated over and over, like a whisper stuck inside her, louder than the applause that had now faded into background noise.
Ananya, who had been watching from the side, leaned closer, her curiosity impossible to contain.
“What did he say?” she asked in a hushed tone, eyes wide with interest.
Zara slowly turned to her, but said nothing. Her lips parted slightly, but the words stayed stuck in her throat.
His voice… that expression… it all came rushing back like a wave crashing over her.
“Zara Iqbal,” Ananya insisted, her tone playful but persistent. “I’m asking you—what did sir say to you?”
Zara blinked, as if waking from a trance. “He said... congratulations,” she replied, the words tumbling out unevenly. Her voice was low, and her tone betrayed her.
Ananya narrowed her eyes. “Are you okay? You’re acting weird ever since he arrived.”
Zara forced a weak smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Huh... I... I’m okay. Just... feeling a little low.”
She reached out, gently holding Ananya’s hand.
“Can I go back to the hostel? I need some air.”
Ananya didn’t argue. She could feel it—something had shifted in Zara.
She stood up with concern. “Come, I’ll help you back to the hostel,” she offered, her voice soft.
But Zara shook her head gently. She didn’t want to ruin her friend’s day.
“I’ll manage, Ananya… You enjoy,” she said, forcing a smile. Her voice was steady, but her heart wasn’t. Not even close.
Before Ananya could insist, Zara had already lifted herself from the chair. With slow, measured steps, she began to walk away from the crowd, from the noise, from the suffocating heaviness of it all.
Each step toward the hostel felt heavier than the last.
But just before she exited the program premises—before the crowd and voices melted into the background—something pulled her back. A need. A question.
Was this real?
Or was it just her imagination spiraling out of control?
She stopped.
And turned.
Her eyes searched the stage once more.
And found him.
Aariz Khan.
Still seated.
Still composed.
But his eyes—dark, piercing—were locked on her. Again.
He wasn’t watching the crowd. He wasn’t watching the program.
He was watching her.
And there was something in that gaze—not admiration. Not curiosity.
It was something colder. Stronger. A warning… or a claim.
A silent message that screamed in her bones: You’re not walking away from this.
Zara’s heart stopped. Her eyes widened, frozen in fear.
Her legs… refused to move.
For a split second, the world felt eerily quiet, like the moment before lightning strikes.
She looked at him with fearful eyes—eyes that silently begged for answers, or maybe escape.
And just then, she saw him move.
Aariz turned slightly in his seat and called over someone—his personal assistant, Akash. Without taking his eyes off Zara, he leaned in and said something.
She couldn't hear the words from that distance. But she saw the way Akash nodded, serious and swift, and the way Aariz’s gaze never wavered from her.
Whatever he said…
It was about her.
Her breath caught.
Something deep inside her told her—this wasn’t over.
In fact, it had just begun.
With that, Zara turned away—immediately.
She didn’t wait.
She didn’t look back again.
Whatever thread of doubt she had clung to was now gone.
She had seen the way he looked at her.
She had seen him speak to his assistant, eyes fixed solely on her.
And that was enough.
Her instincts screamed it—he was danger.
Unspoken. Unpredictable. Uninvited.
She quickened her steps, heart thudding painfully against her ribs, her sandals echoing faintly in the empty corridor as she moved farther from the crowd.
She didn’t want this.
She didn’t want any part of this.
Not when her life had finally found some peace.
Not when her dreams were so close.
Not when all she had ever asked for was to be invisible—to quietly rise, succeed, and leave the rest behind.
But it was too late now.
Something had shifted.
And deep down… she knew.
Somewhere behind her, danger had opened its eyes—and chosen her.
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- Writer
