Chapter Thirty
Nathan
ERIKA: Mr. Singhania is here to meet you.
I finish reading my assistant’s text just as my father barges inside without knocking. He still thinks he owns the company and everyone inside it. He couldn’t be more wrong.
Few more months, Nathan.
Be patient for a few more months.
“Dad,” I greet him, leaning back against my chair and not bothering to stand. “Can I help you?”
He glares through eyes the same color as mine. If it were possible to remove every part of me that resembled him, I would do it.
“Is that how I’ve raised you to talk to your elders?”
“Since when did offering help become rude?”
His hands tighten into fists before he unclenches them. I’m twice his size now, no longer a child he used to beat to discipline every time I didn’t do as he liked. It was all the time because he’s not a man who’s ever pleased.
“The older you’re getting, the more disrespectful you’re becoming,” he grits out haughtily. “Don’t forget the wealth, the fame, the position you have today is because of me. I put you there. It was my hard lessons that shaped you into a leader.”
A leader? I want to scoff. He was trying to raise a puppet.
He almost did, but he failed.
Nothing makes me happier than seeing the fact eat him alive.
“Like I could ever forget,” I say indifferently. Flipping my hand, I raise a brow, “Were you here to give me a lecture or…”
“Your mother is upset you haven’t been home for family dinner in months.”
“We don’t have family dinners,” I retort. “And I’m only a phone call away. She can call to talk or invite me over anytime.”
Bet she’s probably too busy putting on a show in her rich circles of bored housewives.
And my father is lying.
There was a time his guilt-tripping used to work on me. Until I learned of his treachery in separating me from my brother for years. I haven’t confronted him about it. Certain he will deny it. The day I do, it will be with proof.
I swear the more I see his true colors, the more I loathe him. I can’t even stand to be in the same room as him right now. Somehow, I manage.
“Anything else?” I say, bored.
“When are you setting up a meeting with Arnav?” he demands angrily, sitting down across from me. “He’s been calling me.”
“I already told you I’m not going into business with him.”
“This again?” His tone is frustrating.
“You’re the one being difficult.”
“Me? I am trying to show you the way.”
“To get into bed with criminals?” I counter incredulously.
“Those are just rumors,” he says flippantly, like my concern is invalid and childish.
“I’ve known his father for years, did business with him, and we only parted ways because he shifted his company to Dubai.
They want to return and I will not let you stand in the way.
You’re going to set up a meeting and talk with him. ”
“No.”
Wrath darkens his eyes. “What did you say?”
“I said no. I am not getting in the same room as Arnav, let alone talking to him. I don’t care about your history with the Singhs[RK17].”
He searches my face for signs of weakness. An ominous calmness slides over his features, and he threatens, “Then you leave me no choice but to bring it up to the board.”
Unsurprising. He plays the same card over and over. It’s beginning to lose its touch. “By all means, Dad. They won’t side with you on this. I’ll make sure of it.”
“You’re waging a war against me, son?”
“You started it.” And I am going to win it.
“Very well.” He stands, buttoning up his suit jacket. “Seeing how you lost your fiancée to your brother, you will fail yet again. I think I supported the wrong son all these years.”
I don’t react and take a deep breath. “Close the door on your way out.”
He shakes his head in disappointment, then leaves.
Rotating in my chair so I can gaze out at the view of the skyline from the floor-to-ceiling glass wall, I decide to accept Arya’s advice.
It’s time I win the board members’ votes, starting with Sanjay Sharma[RK18].
Arya
“Earth to Ari!”
I startle, looking up from my phone at Anaya. “Gosh, what?”
“What’s so interesting about your phone, babe? Are you even listening to what I am saying?”
“Of course I am.”
“Yeah?” Her eyes widen in exaggerated excitement as she says, “So you want to help me whip the guy that I have chained in my basement?”
I gape at her in horror, before rolling my eyes. “Fine, I wasn’t listening. Okay!”
“Nathan’s dick can’t be that huge or good that you’re daydreaming at a restaurant.”
“Maybe you’re boring,” I tease, taking a sip of my coffee. “And you’re correct on both counts.”
“A, I am hella entertaining. B, damnnnn!” she hoots, drawing the attention of everyone around us.
“Lower your voice,” I hiss.
“Don’t be a prude.”
I smack her arm. “Bitch.”
“Spill the deets,” she demands, popping a fry in her mouth. “Let me live vicariously through you.”
“Long distance being tough?”
“Don’t remind me. Or I might just go back to my old ways.”
“You’re too into Jack to do that.”
A dreamy look crosses her eyes at his name. With an excited smile, she confesses, “I’m flying out on New Year’s to surprise him.”
“Do you even know where he lives?”
“He told me the hotel where he’ll be staying for the holidays in Vegas.”
Anaya is the boldest out of me and Noor, so I am not shocked by her plan. When she loves someone, she goes all in. I just hope Jack never breaks her heart. “He better know he’s one lucky man.”
“Oh, he is, in more ways than one.” She winks.
I chuckle.
“Enough about me,” she huffs. “Back to you. How’s it going with the cocky billionaire? Has he healed your broken heart yet?”
“That’s not what this is.” Even if he’s unknowingly accomplishing it. Ever since Nathan has come into my life, I’ve thought less of Aryan.
A week has passed since he surprised me at work. The hottest experience of my life. Yet my favorite part of that day was when he helped me dress and gave me the softest kiss afterward.
Since both our schedules were packed for the week, especially since he had been gone for ten days, we planned to meet on the weekend. He said he’d text me the address where we’ll be meeting.
I’ve been on the edge of my seat ever since. It’s why I’m constantly checking my phone. I don’t want to seem too eager by texting him first. Or give him a scare by acting like a needy girlfriend. It would send him running in the opposite direction.
“Well, a casual relationship looks good on you.”
“It’s fun.” I grin. “He’s so attentive and knows my body better than I do. I’m never self-conscious around him. He makes me feel like the sexiest woman alive.”
A cozy smile curves Anaya’s lips behind the rim of her glass.
“What?” I laugh.
“You never talked this way about Aryan. He never made you feel like Nathan does, did he?”
I shake my head. “I’m realizing now all the red flags I missed. Love made me blind.”
“Love makes everyone blind.”
A ping on my phone steals my attention. My heart lurches to my throat when I see Nathan’s name flash on my screen, a giddiness taking over me.
“Judging by the blush,” teases Anaya, “I’d say it’s Nathan messaging you.”
“Probably work related.”
“Whatever you say.”
Ignoring her, I open his text, expecting the address of where we’ll meet. Instead, there’s a picture of a luxurious golf course.
I recognize it instantly.
ME: Meeting Sanjay?
MR. GENTLEMAN: You did say it was an order. So here I am following it.
ME: I thought I’d never see the day.
ME: Also, doesn’t he play on the weekends? Today’s Friday.
MR. GENTLEMAN: He comes on Friday’s too according to his assistant.
MR. GENTLEMAN: Let’s hope he’s up for a friendly match.
ME: How good are you at golfing?
MR. GENTLEMAN: Enough to beat his old ass.
I bite back a laugh. Always so arrogant.
ME: Is that a good idea? You should let him win.
MR. GENTLEMAN: Seriously?
I can sense his incredulous tone.
ME: You’re there to win over the man, not the game.
ME: Keep your eye on the prize. It’s his vote.
MR. GENTLEMAN: You’re making me go against my morals, angel.
ME: Oh, you have morals? I find that very hard to believe.
MR. GENTLEMAN: You find many things hard to believe about me.
MR. GENTLEMAN: Remember when you thought I’d hate the taste of your sweet pussy? You were wrong about that.
Heat flies to my cheeks and I ball my hand into a fist to resist fanning my face.
MR. GENTLEMAN: I can’t wait to have you riding my mouth again, little minx.
I shift on my chair, a pulse roaring to life between my thighs.
How does he do it? Turn every conversation into something sexual that leaves me a blushing mess.
“Lord!” exclaims Anaya. “Are you seriously sexting him right in front of me?”
“No!” I gasp, glancing up from my phone. “I am not.”
“It’s written all over your face, Aru. Unless you magically put on a fresh coat of blush.”
“Shut up!” I brush my cheek. “We’re having a platonic conversation.”
“Tell that to your face.”
“How about you get the check instead of watching me?”
“Need privacy?” She smirks, standing up and giving me a thumbs-up. “You got it.”
Once she’s gone, I reply to Nathan.
ME: You can’t sext me in public, Nathan.
ME: I’m with a friend.
MR. GENTLEMAN: As if you weren’t thinking about our time in your office the minute you saw my text.
ME: I wasn’t.
MR. GENTLEMAN: I can imagine your red cheeks, angel. Don’t lie.
ME: I don’t lie.
MR. GENTLEMAN: Send me a picture of you then.
Crap. I didn’t see that coming. If I refuse, it’ll give me away. I reread his text. An idea pops up in my head. He wants a picture, fine. I send him an old selfie of mine.
ME: Here. Happy?
MR. GENTLEMAN: I asked for a picture of you right now, not an old one.
My jaw drops.
How’s that possible for him to know?
ME: What makes you so sure?
MR. GENTLEMAN: Your hair is shorter. And I can see the neckline of your sparkling dress, which you’d never wear to work.
MR. GENTLEMAN: Since you’re not sending a picture of you right now, I know you’re lying about not blushing.
He pays that much attention to me? Butterflies take flight in my stomach. If I wasn’t before, I’m blushing now.
ME: Fine. I was lying.
MR. GENTLEMAN: Bad girl. I’m going to punish you for this.
ME: I look forward to it.
MR. GENTLEMAN: I was easy on you last time. Don’t expect it this time.
A shiver skates down my spine at the sensual threat. Before his dirty words make me too hot and bothered in a room full of people, I switch the topic.
ME: Aren’t you getting late for your meeting with Sanjay?
MR. GENTLEMAN: He’ll be here in a few minutes.
MR. GENTLEMAN: Tell me… are you going to cheer me up since I’m going to lose today?
ME: Is your ego that hard to bruise?
MR. GENTLEMAN: Answer me, Ari.
My pulse pounds harder just imagining his authoritative tone from his message. I wish I was hearing it in my ears.
ME: Yes, I’ll cheer you up. Any way you desire.
MR. GENTLEMAN: Good girl.
An address comes through below it. It’s not his mansion in the suburbs, but a high-rise apartment building in one of the richest areas of the city.
How much real estate does he own?
MR. GENTLEMAN: Meet me here tomorrow night at 9.
MR. GENTLEMAN: Wear nothing but your coat.