Where there's a spectacle, an audience will gather from anywhere. And when the media is present, no hot story is left untouched. This was precisely the case in the hall at that moment.
Two princes were locked in a fierce clash—one from the Roy family and the other from the Shermas. Without knowing the story, the onlookers began crafting their own narratives upon seeing Jay in such a compromising position.
"What is this behavior, Jay? Is this how you treat our guests? Get up and leave him alone!" Jay's father, furious at the sight of Sharma's son and Jay's disheveled appearance, commanded angrily.
Ted stepped in, pulling Jay away from Sharma's battered son.
"Is this how you treat your partners, Roy?" Sharma seethed, directing his anger at Jay's father.
In a bid to salvage his dignity, Jay's father ordered him to apologize to Sharma's son.
"Absolutely not! If you ever pull a cheap stunt like this again, I won't stop, no matter who tries to intervene," Jay roared defiantly.
“H-h-he’s craz-zy dad!” Jr. Sherma stuttered in pain.
“Tell me what happened, son. No need to be afraid,” Sherma urged, positioning himself protectively between his son and Jay's furious glare. Jay, still seething with rage, was held back by Ted, who stood resolutely beside Muskan.
Sharma's son, nursing his bruises, stammered, "I... I was just talking to this lady, and he attacked me out of nowhere."
"I know you're playing hard to get. I concede defeat. Come now, let's go." Jay repeated Jr. Sherma’s words, mimicking the arrogance and audacity with which they had been said before he grabbed Muskan's wrist.
"This is how you've taught your son to talk, Uncle?" Jay’s voice trembled with barely contained rage as he addressed Sherma, his teeth clenched. The room fell silent, all eyes fixed on the unfolding confrontation, the air thick with tension.
“Is this true, ma’am? Did Jr. Sherma tried to misbehave with you, or did it happen with your consent?” A reporter thrust a microphone in Muskan’s face, fishing for scandalous headlines followed by other reporters.
Muskan, stunned and unable to find words, stood frozen. Riya swiftly intervened, blocking the media from getting any closer to her.
Jay, noticing Muskan’s shock, gently took her hand and signaled for her to follow him with a slight pull. With a little hesitance, Muskan agreed and followed him, eager to distance herself from the chaos and collect her thoughts.
They ran through the hall to a secluded area and took the lift to the topmost floor.
Meanwhile, Ted, Riya, and the security team, along with Vishal, Style In's CEO, worked tirelessly to manage the situation, keeping the press at bay. Sherma, seizing the opportunity, whisked his son away to avoid yet another scandal. Mr. Roy found himself surrounded by reporters, trying to control the narrative from his end.
Downstairs, it was complete pandemonium, each faction dealing with the fallout in their own way.
Jay and Muskan hurried to the terrace, gasping for breath as they tried to calm themselves. Once Muskan had regained her composure, she turned to Jay and said, "What was the need to beat the hell out of that guy? Are you a thug or something?"
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