The grand hall of Veer’s estate was supposed to feel magnificent—opulent chandeliers, intricate tapestries, and polished marble floors that reflected the dim, golden light. But right now, it looked more like the setting of a nightmare, with shadows crawling across the walls, twisting and curling like they were *alive*.

Aanya stumbled as Veer pulled her forward, his grip firm but urgent. “Where are we going?” she hissed, trying not to trip over her lehenga. “And please don’t say somewhere cliché, like the basement. Because horror stories and basements? Not a great combo.”

Veer shot her a look that was *almost* amused, even in the face of danger. He was dressed in a fitted black suit, the jacket tailored to perfection, his crisp white shirt unbuttoned at the collar. “Basement,” he confirmed, because of course he did. “Just trust me.”

“Wow, trusting the guy who dragged me from a romantic almost-kiss to a demon-infested haunted mansion,” Aanya muttered. “Yeah, sure. Why not?”

But as they approached the door to the basement, a deep, guttural growl vibrated through the walls, and the humor drained from Aanya’s face. *What the actual hell was that?*

The door slammed open, and a gust of cold, rotten air nearly made her gag. Inside, the shadows coalesced, forming grotesque shapes that twisted and morphed into monstrous figures—eyes that blinked from inky darkness, gaping mouths lined with jagged, flesh-hungry teeth.

“Uh,” Aanya whispered, her voice cracking. “Tell me I’m hallucinating. Please?”

“Nope,” Veer replied, his voice way too calm for someone facing a nightmare brought to life. “Not this time.”

One of the shadow creatures lunged forward, dragging its malformed, semi-corporeal body across the floor. Its appendages were twisted, looking like a horrifying mashup of bones and shredded sinew, dripping with black ooze that sizzled where it touched the marble.

Another creature lunged at Aanya, its mouth stretching impossibly wide, revealing rows of broken, mismatched teeth. She grabbed the closest thing she could find—a fancy ornamental vase—and hurled it at the beast. It shattered against its face, causing the shadowy form to waver and reform. “So, not effective,” she mumbled. “Noted.”

Veer was in a full-on battle now, moving with a deadly grace that was both impressive and infuriating. The suit didn’t hinder him at all, and he wielded a wicked-looking blade that gleamed with ancient script. “Nice throw,” he called over his shoulder, and Aanya glared at him.

“Yeah, well, you try fighting with a twenty-pound lehenga,” she snapped. “I’m a little limited here!”

Suddenly, something *wet* and *fleshy* brushed against her ankle. Aanya screamed, looking down to see a disembodied hand—pale, blood-soaked, and twitching as if searching for something to grab. “Oh my god, *are you serious*?” she shrieked, kicking it away. It skittered across the floor, leaving a trail of blood and dark ooze.

“Focus!” Veer yelled, slicing through another creature. He was covered in the same black ichor, and it didn’t even seem to faze him.

“Focus?!” Aanya shouted back. “There’s a *crawling severed hand*, Veer! Excuse me for not being battle-hardened!”

Before she could fully panic, one of the creatures lunged at her again, and she ducked, barely missing its claws. She grabbed a fallen candlestick, swinging it like a baseball bat and connecting with the monster’s face. It recoiled, its malformed features collapsing into a black, oozing mess.

“You know,” she muttered, her heart pounding, “I really didn’t sign up for this. I was promised a nice, arranged marriage with a *normal* rich guy, not a *supernatural horror show*.”

Veer’s blade cut through another creature, and he turned to face her, panting. “Welcome to my world,” he said, his eyes dark with something she couldn’t quite place. “And trust me, it only gets worse.”

Aanya glared at him, but before she could respond, a low, menacing laugh echoed through the room. The shadows shifted, forming a massive, grotesque figure—a being with eyes that glowed red and a mouth lined with writhing, dripping tendrils.

“Oh, hell no,” Aanya said, feeling every ounce of sarcasm drain away. “That thing looks like it crawled out of my worst nightmare.”

The creature spoke, its voice a horrifying blend of whispers and growls. “Veer Raichand,” it hissed, “and his little bride-to-be. How delicious.”

Veer stepped in front of Aanya, his stance protective, the suit straining slightly across his broad shoulders. “You’re not taking her,” he growled, his voice more dangerous than she’d ever heard. Aanya felt a chill run down her spine, and for the first time, she realized just how deep she was in this nightmare.

*Great,* she thought, her heart racing. *From awkward family introductions to fighting shadow demons. My life really took a turn.*

And as the creature advanced, she couldn’t help but feel that this was only the beginning of a battle she wasn’t ready for. But with Veer at her side, she’d fight. Even if her weapon of choice was sarcasm and a candlestick.