37 ~ It feels Amazing
Before starting the chapter, I would like to inform you guys that Fatal Temptations ~ The Price of Sin (Book 2) is officially published!
I’ve added the description, tropes, and trigger warnings for Fatal Temptations, so do check them out once and let me know how you feel about it.
I’ll be starting the book soon, but right now I’m extremely busy. I’m also thinking of taking a little break after a week or so because mera pura dimaag kharch ho gaya hai, guys. I seriously need some rest.
So, thoda sa patience rakho. I’ll be back with Fatal Temptations soon.
For now, read the chapter and keep supporting me.
Chahat's POV.
I felt terrible for Kartik. He had worked so hard for that dream, only to lose it before he could even complete his training.
But somehow, I couldn't convince myself that it had simply been bad luck. Something about his story didn't sit right with me.
The sudden weakness, the prohibited substance in his system, everything happening at the same time... I couldn't shake the feeling that someone had been behind it.
I stared at him. "You didn't try again?"
He nodded immediately. "Of course."
There was almost disbelief in his voice.
"I didn't accept it quietly. I appealed through the channels available to me. I asked for a medical review. I tried to have my condition reassessed. I explained the family emergency. I accepted responsibility for overstaying my leave,
but I kept insisting that I should be given a fair opportunity to prove myself physically and medically."
He looked at me.
"I was willing to start from the beginning again. I would have repeated the entire course if they had allowed me to. But they wouldn't." He shook his head. "Every door closed."
I cupped his cheeks and saw how disappointed he was.
He swallowed. "And eventually, I had no training to return to."
I could barely breathe.
He leaned back slightly against the headboard.
"At that point, I had no choice but to take over. Singhaniya Globals needed someone who could make decisions, and my father expected me to step into that role." His expression hardened. "So I did."
He was quiet for a moment.
"That's when I changed. I stopped talking unnecessarily. I stopped trusting easily. I became obsessed with control, discipline and results."
His lips curved into a bitter smile.
"People thought that was always who I was."
He looked down at the scar across his chest.
"Yeh scar bhi usi time ka hai."
(This scar is from that time.)
My fingers instinctively moved toward it.
"There was a cadet named Jigar Mehta. He didn't like me much." A faint, humourless smile touched his lips. "I was getting a lot of praise during training. My instructors knew I was one of the better cadets, and Jigar competed with me over everything."
"Was he jealous?" I asked.
He shook his head, "I don't think so...During a simulated combat exercise. We were training together when something went wrong. I was injured badly enough that I couldn't train for some time."
My expression hardened. "Did he do it intentionally?"
Kartik shook his head slowly. "No... I don't know. He always wanted to prove he was better than me. But whether he actually meant to hurt me that day...I can't say that for certain."
I looked at the brutal mark on his chest again.
Maybe Kartik couldn't say it but looking at that scar, I couldn't help thinking.
Jigar Mehta knew exactly what he was doing. This scar doesn't look accidental.
His eyes followed my fingers.
Could he have drugged him?
Could he have manipulated Kartik's medical reports somehow?
I looked back at him and he cupped my neck, "At that time, I thought this scar would always remind me of the life I had chosen." His voice became almost a whisper. "I never imagined it would become a reminder of the life I couldn't have."
My eyes filled completely. "Kartik..."
He looked at me. I couldn't find the right words so instead, I moved closer and wrapped my arms around him.
For a moment, he didn't move.
Then his arms came around me.
I pressed my cheek against his chest, careful not to hurt the old scar.
"Main bahut proud feel kar rahi hoon tumhare liye."
(I feel very proud of you.)
He closed his eyes. "Par maine complete nahi kiya."
(But I didn't complete it.)
"You tried."
He didn't answer.
I pulled back and held his face gently between my hands.
"You didn't walk away from it. You were forced to stop."
Something in his eyes broke.
He lowered his forehead against mine.
The ruthless businessman everyone feared suddenly felt very far away.
Because beneath all that control, all that arrogance, all that coldness, there had once been a young man who had run obstacle courses before sunrise, endured field exercises, carried the weight of training on exhausted shoulders,
and believed that one day he would wear the uniform he had worked so hard to earn.
He had been good at it. He loved it and then, one circumstance after another, one closed door after another, had taken that dream away from him.
And perhaps that was why the man I knew had learned never to depend on anything he couldn't control.
He remained silent for a long moment.
His eyes had lost the hardness they usually carried. There was no arrogance in them now, no controlled expression, no trace of the man who could intimidate an entire boardroom with a single look.
He simply looked heartbroken.
His shoulders were tense, his jaw tight, and I could see the strain in his face as though remembering everything had reopened a wound he had spent years trying to bury.
I reached for him slowly and cupped his cheeks in both my hands.
He looked at me.
I leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss against his forehead.
For a few seconds, I simply kept my forehead against his.
Then he finally spoke.
"Main wo sab bhool nahi paa raha..."
(I can't forget all of that...)
His voice was quiet, almost ashamed.
His eyes flickered.
I pulled him into my arms and hugged him tightly.
He went still for a moment before his arms slowly came around me.
I rubbed his back in slow, comforting strokes, letting him breathe, letting him feel everything he had kept locked away for so long.
"It's okay, Kartik..." My voice was barely above a whisper. "It's okay."
I held him even tighter.
"Woh tumhara dream tha. Uske liye tumne itni mehnat ki thi... toh usse yaad karna galat nahi hai."
(That dream was yours. You worked so hard for it... so there is nothing wrong with remembering it.)
His breathing grew heavier against my shoulder.
I continued rubbing his back. "Tumhe strong banne ke liye har cheez bhoolne ki zarurat nahi hai."
(You don't have to forget everything to be strong.)
He closed his eyes. For once, he didn't try to hide the pain.
He simply held me and I stayed there with him.
Just my arms around him, reminding him that he didn't have to carry it alone anymore.
He pulled back and lay down. I noticed he had gone completely quiet.
He was staring at the ceiling, his eyes fixed on nothing in particular. His mind had clearly wandered somewhere far away. Maybe to a time I had never witnessed, to a younger version of him who had once believed his future was already waiting for him.
I watched him for a few seconds before reaching for him.
I gently cupped his cheeks and turned his face toward mine.
His eyes finally met mine.
My thumbs brushed softly over his cheeks. "Don't blame yourself."
He remained silent for a moment then he gave me a small nod.
I smiled faintly.
I leaned closer and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.
It was soft and reassuring, nothing demanding about it.
Just a quiet reminder that he was here, with me.
When I pulled back, his eyes were still on mine.
And this time, the sadness in them seemed a little less heavy.
We had dinner together later that evening, although my mind remained somewhere else for most of it.
He seemed quieter than usual.
He spoke when necessary, answered Dadi's questions, even managed a few dry remarks when Krish teased him, but I could still see the weight behind his eyes.
Every now and then, his expression would become distant for a few seconds, as though some part of him was still trapped in the memories he had shared with me.
After dinner, we finally returned to our bedroom.
I changed into a comfortable nightdress and stood in front of the mirror for a moment, brushing my hair thinking about him.
He was really upset.
I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't hear the bedroom door open behind me.
A moment later, warm hands slipped around my waist.
I startled slightly.
"Thinking about me?"
Kartik's voice came from behind me, low and amused.
I turned in his arms and immediately shook my head.
"Nope..."
His eyebrow lifted.
"Then whom?"
He pulled me a little closer, his expression carrying that familiar arrogance again.
I couldn't help smiling.
"Someone very irritating."
His eyes narrowed playfully and he hugged me tightly.
We lied down on the bed and I couldn't help but look at him. I never thought I'd fall for this heartless monster.
He pulled me in his arms.
We had fallen asleep wrapped around each other that night, his arms holding me close as if even in sleep, he couldn't bring himself to let me go. But when morning came, I woke with his confession still echoing inside my head.
His dream. His grandfather's wish. The years he had spent training. The uniform he had once believed he would wear for the rest of his life. And then the way everything had been taken from him.
I couldn't stop thinking about it.
Even now, when he was sleeping beside me, peaceful and unaware of the storm inside my head, I found myself looking at him differently. There was so much about this man I still didn't know. So much pain hidden beneath that arrogance, that coldness, that ruthless control he carried everywhere.
My eyes slowly moved to his chest and then to the scar.
I couldn't help myself.