Chapter 6
“This is a small town where almost everybody knows everybody. There's a big shopping mall that we visited the other day. Then there's Lina’s bakery—her almond cakes are amazing, and the strawberry smoothie is my favorite. Lina’s son, Nick, calls me ‘Maavav,' and he’s absolutely adorable.”
Kiara smiled, and it was that same smile that I’d grown all too fond of.
I’m not entirely sure how she managed to trick me into showing her around the town, but here I am.
It’s like my brain stops functioning whenever she’s in the same room.
This girl is dangerous for me. I can’t handle her big, questioning eyes or her thoughtful gestures.
She stayed by my side all night when I wasn’t feeling well, probably out of guilt for daring me to swim in the ocean at midnight.
But she didn’t have to keep checking on me afterward, yet she did.
She’s not as tough as she pretends to be. Something is going on with her, something she’s not ready to share. Her unstoppable tears that day while talking to Roy weren’t just… normal. Beneath that fiery exterior lies a gentle, soft, and incredibly caring heart.
Okay, enough about hearts—or how mine seems to have developed a mind of its own when she’s too close. Because right now, she’s sitting in the same car as me, looking like an actual goddess.
And what on earth is she wearing? Is it even legal to look this beautiful? Her long black hair cascades like something out of a dream. Her eyes, her smile, the effortless way she takes up space in my life—it’s a problem I can’t solve, and I’m not even sure I want to.
And then there’s her long, elegant neck and her collarbone—so perfect it might as well be a work of art. Her black strappy dress isn't helping me focus on the road.
Let’s not even start on her lips—full, pink, and way too distracting. They make me forget how to breathe.
Manav. Stop. Don’t think about her lips.
Dangerous territory.
No girls. No girls of any kind.
“Wendy’s is an exotic restaurant. She gives me… well, strange hugs every time she sees me,” I continued, ignoring my phone that had been ringing for the past ten minutes. “There’s also a popular beach —it has this unique aura, feels almost divine when you walk on the sand.
There’s only one decent club around here, XO. Bella has a lovely flower shop, Orry runs a unique bookstore, and Mr. Danny and his wife live just around the corner. She makes some pretty authentic Indian food—I think you’ll like her. Doug’s gym is also quite famous around here.”
“Exactly how long have you been here?” Her head tipped to the side, watching me.
“Six months.”
And every day feels like I’m running from something I should’ve faced long ago. The Cape House.
The lawyers were ready to sell it off years ago. But I held on. I told them I wanted to visit one last time. That was six months ago. I came to Beaufort with the sole purpose of signing those papers… but I haven’t even stepped through the front door.
It's the house where I spent every summer with Mom. Where we baked together. She hummed old songs while I sat on the kitchen counter, waiting for her signature cupcakes. The same house where she’d tell me stories—about angels, bunnies, magic—and stroke my hair until I fell asleep, cocooned in her voice.
We always came here, the three of us—Mom, Dad, and me. It was our sacred tradition. Until that one summer changed everything.
That’s when I found out she’d been sick all along. The tumor had been there since the day I was born. But that summer… while baking my favorite cupcakes, she collapsed. And within a week, she was gone.
I was just ten. Too young to understand death, too old not to feel the ache of it.
I remember crying every night for a week, begging Dad to do something—anything—to make her stay. But he couldn’t. No one could. She just… disappeared. One moment, she was the sun in my world. The next, silence.
After the funeral, Dad and I flew back to India. We never spoke of the house again. We never came back.
To his credit, Dad tried. He did his best to fill the hollow space she left behind. No complaints there. But I didn’t want a replacement.
I wanted her. I needed her.
And when she left, I wasn’t just heartbroken. I was angry. Angry that people leave without warning. That they don’t come back.
So maybe that’s why I’ve been avoiding the Cape House. Maybe that’s why I still haven’t crossed that threshold. Because walking inside means acknowledging it’s real. That she’s really gone.
But I will. I will walk in. I have to. And I will say Goodbye.
Soon.
Before I could finish my thoughts, my phone rang again. I glanced at the screen—Justin.
“Sir…” Justin's voice came through, breathless.
“What?”
“Sir, Rocky Mehra is in Beaufort.”
“What?” How on earth does he know where I am? “Track him. I want to know what the hell he’s doing here.” I disconnected the call.
Kiara looked over at me. “All well?”
I wanted to lie. Say everything was fine. But my gut was already coiling with something I hadn’t felt in months—unrest. I nodded, trying to push the situation with Rocky to the back of my mind, and continued driving.
We spent the day visiting Lina’s, Wendy’s, and Bella’s. It was now night, and the entire day had felt surprisingly relaxing.
“We didn’t go to the club,” Kiara said, finishing off her fifth ice cream of the evening.
“It’s been hours of roaming around… you might be tired,” but, God help me, the way she’s licking that spoon… It’s a test, right? A cosmic test of any human’s patience.
And somebody, please—please—tell her to wipe that caramel off her lips. It’s been stuck there for the past half hour, and if she doesn’t do it soon, I might lose my mind. My thumb is practically twitching, itching to reach over and graze her lips clean.
Focus, Manav. Keep it together.
“You are staring,” She gave me a long look.
“You might want to stop eating any more ice cream for tonight… or I’ll have to carry you out of the club when the sugar crash hits.” I turned the car towards XO, the only club in Beaufort.
“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t trouble you.” She shifted a little while reaching for the radio.
The radio hummed with a melodic tune, and the breeze was cool against the night air. It was already 10:30 PM when we pulled into the parking lot. Within minutes, we were stepping inside the bar, the faint buzz of music and laughter filling the space.
Misty, the bartender, spotted me almost immediately, “Mr. Oberoi… today… you have beautiful company,” her grin widened as she eyed Kiara. “What can I get for both of you?”
“Umm… beer would be fine,” I replied, reading the messages Justin had been sending for the last ten minutes.
“I’ll take a lemon water,” Kiara chimed in, settling on the bar stool.
And then, of course, my phone rang again.
“I’ll be back in a minute.”
She nodded, settling in as I stepped away to answer the call.
“Sir… Mr. Patel has news…” Justin’s voice was urgent.
“What?”
“Rocky Mehra is going to meet you today.” Justin sounded as frustrated with the situation as I was.
I clenched my jaw, my mind racing. I disconnected the call with a sigh and stepped back inside.
As I approached the bar counter, my eyes locked on the sight that made my blood boil.
Rocky Mehra. And worse—he was standing there, shaking Kiara’s hand.
What the fuck is this bastard doing here?
My fists clenched at my sides as I heard his voice, sickeningly smooth, as he spoke to her.
“Oh my God! Miss Kiara Randhawa… The Queen of Words is here… I’ve been following your work, and the movies you've scripted are my favorites. It’s been a long time since you launched a new one. Please don’t keep your fans waiting…”
He was still holding her hand, smiling as if he wasn’t the same snake I knew him to be.
This man has a death wish tonight.
“You touch her again… and you won’t live to see the morning,” I growled, my voice low but full of menace.
Rocky turned to me with a grin, completely unfazed. “Hey… buddy! What a surprise! I missed you so much. Are you hiding out here?” He laughed, casually taking a sip of his whiskey.
Kiara glanced between the two of us. “You two know each other?”
“Oh, we can’t live without each other, right, Bro?” Rocky smirked, not missing a beat. “And seriously, man, I never imagined you would be dating The Kiara Randhawa after what you did with your last girlfriend…” His smile was devilish, and he knew what buttons to push.
“None of your goddamn business,” I growled again, stepping closer.
Before I could say more, Kiara stumbled over her words. “We are… we’re not dating… uhh… he’s my… chef, and we are just…”
“He is your… what?” Rocky’s eyes widened before he burst out laughing, one hand clutching his drink as he leaned back like this was the best joke he'd heard all year. “Holy God! A chef…?”
He turned to me, the smirk still plastered on his face. “So… is this your new charm to get la—”
“Do not finish that sentence if you want to walk out of here in one piece.” I warned, my fists clenching again.
“Easy…dude.”
“Why are you here?” My fists were itching to punch his nose.
“We need to talk.” He poured some drink into his glass.
“Then talk… NOW!” I didn’t care what his game was—I wanted this conversation over.
“Here…?” Rocky glanced at Kiara, his tone dripping with fake concern.
“I’ll be at the table.” Kiara began to walk away.
“Pull back the deal, or it's going to be another nightmare for you.” His voice was devoid of any trace of humor now.
“The deal isn’t going anywhere.”
Rocky leaned in slightly, his devilish smile returning. “Those Russians are not gonna help you if you don’t heed my warning, and I doubt you have any energy left after what that little girlfriend of yours did to you…”
My jaw tightened. “LEAVE. NOW.”
“Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he grabbed his keys from the counter. As he walked toward the table where Kiara was sitting, my blood was boiling, and every instinct in me wanted to stop him and punch his face.