© 2025 Alena. All rights reserved.
No part of Twisted Lies may be copied, reproduced, or distributed in any form without the author's written permission. This work is protected under copyright law. Unauthorized use, reproduction, or adaptation is strictly prohibited and punishable by law
ISHIKA'S POV
What does it mean when you don't remember where you started...
or worse, you keep stopping at the same spot even after walking so far?
Does that mean you're lost in the woods? Yes. You're lost—like me.
I'm trapped in this maze-like mansion.
I've been walking for so long, I think I might be allergic to finding my way. Or maybe I forgot where I was going in the first place.
"Ahh, my foot!" I hissed in pain, clutching the railing like it was the only thing keeping me upright. My heels were the enemy now.
If only I'd taken Shanaya's help, this wouldn't have happened.
Cursing myself mentally, I spotted a room on the second floor and bolted toward it like a lunatic. Without hesitation, I slipped inside and locked the door.
The room was breathtaking—dark elegance wrapped in luxury. Lavish furniture. Velvet drapes. Monitors humming faintly. Screens flickering with green code and security feeds. A corkboard covered in maps, red strings, photographs. Laptops whirring quietly on a cluttered desk.
It looked like something out of a hacker's lair.
Just kidding.
I untied my hair in frustration and collapsed onto the bed—heels and all.
"At least take off your heels."
The voice cut through the silence, smooth and amused.
I jumped. Literally.
My head whipped toward the door. There he stood.
Ruhaan Agnihotri In all his glory and charm
Leaning against the frame like he owned the shadows—arms crossed, shirt half-unbuttoned, sleeves rolled to the elbows, silver watch gleaming like sin. His hair was tousled, freshly ruined by his own hand. His smirk? Enough to commit crimes.
Oh no
We were *twinning*.
His gaze sharpened instantly when it landed on me—in his bed.
Something flickered across his face.
Not amusement. Not annoyance.
But a flash of raw surprise. Eyes scanning me from head to toe, pausing at the high slit of my structured black gown, the silver accents slicing across my waist like a blade. The velvet, matte finish. The sharp lines. The off-shoulder dip. The pearl choker gleaming against my collarbone. The five-inch stilettos. My hair twisted up with silver pins, sleek and severe. The smoky eyes. The ruin-painted lips.
His expression darkened slightly—as if someone had turned off the air for a second.
He blinked, covered it up fast with that smug mask.
But I saw it.
He wasn't expecting this version of me.
"Yes, me. The Great and Mighty Ruhaan Agnihotri," he drawled, stepping inside. "Any problem, Sourcandy?"
I groaned. "Didn't I tell you not to call me that?"
"And yet," he smiled wider. "I called you."
I crossed my arms. "You should be ashamed. Entering someone else's room without permission."
He raised a brow, walking in further. "Interesting... I didn't know I needed permission to enter my own room."
This is His room, no fire without a spark! How could I forget I'm in Agnihotri party
He wasn't supposed to be here.
As Shanaya told me he won't be at the party, does it mean he'll be burning the midnight oil in his room!His appearance suggests that he's always partying, but that's not actually the case....
He smirked, unbothered. "Strange. Someone was saying she wanted to keep distance from me. But here you are—in my bed, in my room."
"Coincidence. I was looking for the exit, not an ego."
"Relax, little witch. Is my bed ridiculously fluffy or what?"
"Terrible quality," I said coolly, waving him off. "Our floor tiles are softer than this."Ughh it's so suffocating to be with him after that dare.
He chuckled. "Yet you seem pretty comfortable."
I narrowed my eyes. "you can't entered like this"
"My room, remember? Should I offer you a vase in case you feel like breaking something again?"
I raised a brow. "Yeah? Then give me your face. I'd love to break that."
He chuckled, his gaze lazily trailing over me again. "Still dramatic, I see."
He stepped closer. I backed up, heart pounding.
He moved slow, like a predator toying with his prey. As he neared the bed, his smirk faltered again—not because he was surprised anymore. But something shifted. His jaw tensed. Eyes unreadable. Like he was trying hard not to react to seeing me in this dress, in his room.
He approached me slowly and I stepped back, mentally screaming 'run Ishi, this guy's going to give you a VIP tour of heaven today whether you like it or not' I gave myself a motivation talk and made a break for the exit without looking back
I turned to bolt—only to be pulled back. Strong arms wrapped around my waist, spine against his chest.
"chodo mujhe! I swear to God I'm gonna fucking kill y—"
"Keep cursing, sweetheart," he murmured, voice like a dare. "Let's see who's still standing. Or stuck."
My breath caught.
His head dipped by my shoulder, his presence overwhelming.
"If you're done running, I'll let go."He said his voice was calm, but his grip around my waist tightened, holding me in place.
I nodded, breathless.
He stepped back, but not far. Eyes locked. Still too close.
Apparently, partying on the ground floor was the plan, not relaxing in my room right?" he asked, tilting his head slightly
I reply immediately, fidgeting my fingers "umm I'm sorry to disturb you, but I got lost and my foot is tired from all the walking. I decided to take a short rest, and I didn't even realize this was your room," I continued before he could react."I swear it's the truth, and I apologize for the intrusion. I should probably get going bye"
"Wait."
He grabbed a black blazer, tossed it to me.
"Wear it."
Not a request. A command.
"Eww. I'll ruin my fashion sense."I scoffed, tossing it to the couch like it was some kind of trash.
His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he let out a heavy sigh, as if trying to calm himself down.
but why? Apparently, he's used to everyone jumping at his command, but Ishika Malhotra only takes orders from her own inner boss.
"Do you want me to repeat?"
"I'M NOT GOING TO WE—"
He took a step forward. I backed into the exit. strong hands caged me against the door. Breath hitched.
His gaze dropped, lingered on my lips, then back to my eyes. For a moment—a dangerous one—we were suspended in something electric. He was so close that our lips could touch... What the heck you're Imagining Ishi
But instead, he leaned in and murmured,
"Your dress... it's torn."
WHAT?!
I checked. Yep. A minor rip at the back.
Oh god. The slit had betrayed me.
Heat rose to My cheeks, but I didn't let it show. Instead, without missing a beat, In burst of irritation, I grabbed his collar, and his eyes widen in surprise at my bold mov "You could've said that first!"
"I did. I told you to wear the blazer." His voice was low, calm, but something in it made my stomach twist.
"SHUT UP!"
I snatched the blazer from the couch and draped it over my shoulder.
He smirked. I walked to his dresser, fixed my hair with his comb like I owned this room, My gaze landed on his signature perfume—Jasmine and Sandalwood, His signature scent that he mostly used in school.
Dear Perfume, you're clearly too good for him, but unfortunately, you're not stuck on my dress, are you?
you know sharing is caring, I tell myself to justify using his personal property without his consent. After applying some to my wrist and Crook of my neck.
Sorry but not sorry.
One spritz turned into three. It smelled like power and pain. The familiar, intoxicating fragrance clung to My skin like a memory . It was stupid—reckless, even—but it made me feel bolder, as if I could rewrite the rules just for a second.
I discreetly scanned the room to ensure he wasn't watching, and then let out a sigh of relief when I saw him engrossed in his phone his brows were slightly furrowed, his thumb swiping with practiced indifference, completely oblivious to my thievery.
Then I remembered library book
The one I had carefully wrapped, intending to pass it discreetly to his house maid as a favor, a quiet gesture wrapped in denial. But now that he was here, everything felt exposed.
My fingers trembled slightly as I placed the book on his desk.
My eyes flicked to the pen resting near the edge of the table. Without thinking twice, I reached for it, My fingers brushing against the cool metal. A single blank chit sat tucked within the pages of the book.
I take out the chit from the book, clicked the pen softly, and scribbled a quick lines. Just a message only he would understand.
I slid the chit beneath the book, pressing it gently down as if sealing a secret. There—it was done. My small rebellion, My silent message.
After that I saw myself in mirror and sighed, as if every part of me represented my heart and emotions
As I turned to leave—
"She said wearing it would ruin her style, now she's modeling in it. Bipolar Sourcandy," he muttered.
Ishi, just pretend he's a ghost, but honestly, even ghosts are more reliable than him
"Kutta kahika," I rolled my eyes. "Itni sundar ladki samne hai, tareef tak nahi."
Did I just say that aloud?
"hyee I'm looking so pretty!" I exclaimed too loud trying to take his attention, afterall the effort I spent hours to looking fabulous, I'm willing to accept praise from anyone, even my arch-nemesis
"Yeah," he said absently, putting his phone down.
My heart flipped.
Wait. Did he just agree?
"Main kya hi tareef kru, I'm just naturally—" I flipped my hair in confidence but his next word want me to punch him.
Then he added, "Like chudailon ki kul dayan."
I launched a pillow at his head. but unfortunately his reflexes were better than his arrogance and he caught the pillow.
"Mujhe meri mumma ne ready kiya hai! Khabardar kuch kaha toh!" I dramatically pointed my finger at him and shouted a warning, like a superhero trying to save the world from certain doom.
He grinned. "Toh unko bolu kya?"
Before I could reply, His phone buzzed. He straightened. Face unreadable.
"We're leaving."
"WE WHAT?! I can go on m—"
He took my hand. Warm. Unyielding.
"OYE LET ME GO!"
He didn't flinch. Just kept walking. Dragged me to the lift like I was luggage.
"She's screaming like I'm kidnapping her," he muttered.
"YOU ARE!"
He said nothing. Just tightened his grip.
A maid who was checking the decorations in the corridor quickly looked away, probably thinking, 'I'm not getting paid enough to deal with whatever this is'
en sbko bade me dekh lungi
He dragged me into the lift and pressed ground floor in the last row of floor number
where this elevator came from huh? This lift didn't show up when I needed it! sabke sab yaha par dhogle hai
"chodo mujhe!" I screamed again, but he just keep quiet in lift and taping something in his phone
Finally, what felt like my only source of hope'THE ELEVATOR' opened up and we stepped out of the elevator, but his grip on my wrist remained a real 'hand-cuff' on my freedom.
We arrived at the grand hall, where the party was happening, and he finally, gently released my hand, probably because he realized his grip wasn't impressing anyone
the warmth of his touch fading far too quickly,
My eyes widened in horror as I took in the scene: shards of glass were strewn everywhere, drinks had spilled onto the floor and the grand hall was thick with unbearable tension The atmosphere was tense, as if a violent crime was about to unfold before their eyes.
and then my eyes caught something-my sister is arguing more like fighting And the woman she was arguing with? No ordinary guest.
A commanding figure wrapped in silk and authority. A name people whispered with a mix of awe and fear. She was the very woman the girl had admired from afar, had read about, had silently called her idol.
NIHARIKA AGNIHOTRI
My mind swirled with disbelief. What was prakriti didi doing?
I nervously clutched a soft fabric beside me, but when I realised what I was holding, I quickly pulled my hand away.
"Ishika," His voice was eerily calm, as if he didn't care about the scene unfolding in front of him.
I turned to him, eyes wide, seeking some kind of answer, some hint of control, his gaze softened like he understood my nervousness
"Are you scared?" His expression was unreadable, cold, but something beneath the surface maybe...concern.
My lips parted but apparently my brain and mouth weren't on speaking terms
"If your sister can argue with Niharika Agnihotri then she's totally qualified to handle the drama that comes with it, so by all means, just sit back and let them spat it out!" he said, his tone sharp but laced with concern.
I blinked Once. Twice
His tone wasn't mocking. It was calm. Certain. And somehow, it made me stand taller
I looked at him, searching his face for something—maybe reassurance, maybe a hint of what he was really thinking But
He stepped back. Voice softened.
"I brought you where you needed to be."
And then—he walked away—shoulders squared, footsteps unhurried, disappearing into the glittering crowd as if he'd never been there at all.
Just like that.
Leaving behind his scent. His silence. His trace.
And I? Still standing. Still stunned.
My fingers curled slightly, still remembering how his hand had felt around mine. The lingering scent of his blazer still clung to me, a quiet reminder that whatever just happened—it wasn't nothing.
Maybe Akduhotri just showed... concern?
Nah. He's probably planning my downfall. Again.
Right?
But right now, prakriti di was across the hall, standing tall in front of a woman who once lived on a pedestal in My mind. And somehow… everything felt different now.
TO BE CONTINUED.....