chapter 51
Her hand rested on his arm like she belonged there, like she had every right to touch him. Vipul was actually smiling… not his usual irritated smirk or forced expression… but genuinely smiling.
Tara stopped walking. Her smile vanished.
Her chest tightened unexpectedly.
Seriously…? She didn’t even understand why it bothered her so much.
He was free to talk to anyone. He wasn’t hers. Then why did it feel like someone had just stepped on her heart?
I can’t believe this… bitchhh…
Before she could glare longer, the woman said something to him and walked away. Vipul turned and noticed Tara approaching. Instantly his face returned to normal calm, cold, unreadable.
“Chalein?” he asked simply. She just nodded. They both got into the car.
The ride started.
But the usual chaos was missing.
Just silence.
Vipul glanced at her from the corner of his eye. She was staring out the window, lips pressed together, arms crossed.
Something was wrong.
“How was your so-called party?” he finally asked. “Good,” she replied.
One word. Flat.
He frowned slightly. Normally she would give a full one-hour story with sound effects. “Bas good?”
“Hm.”
Tara kept staring out of the window the entire ride back, but her mind was nowhere near the road. When I laugh with him, he acts like I’m a headache…
But with her he was smiling so nicely…
Her chest tightened.
Maybe he likes girls like that… mature… pretty… calm… not disasters like me.
Her throat felt heavy.
He doesn’t care about me… right?
She clenched her fists.
Why do I even care? I hate you, Vipul…
The word hate hurt more than it should have.
The car finally stopped at the mansion.
Before Vipul could even step out properly to open her door like usual, Tara quickly pushed it open herself and got down.
“Thankuu!!” she said dryly, thrusting his blazer into his hands without even looking at him.
And she turned to leave.
Vipul frowned. What the hell was this behavior? “Miss Tara—”
She ignored him and kept walking.
Something inside him snapped.
In two long strides, he reached her and grabbed her wrist. Before she could react, he pulled her back. She stumbled straight into his chest.
“Vipul—!”
His hand slid around her waist firmly, holding her in place. The other hand pressed against the wall beside her, caging her in. Too close.
Her heartbeat went crazy.
“Kis baat ka itna attitude hai, huh?” he asked, voice low and dangerous.
“Leave me!” she struggled lightly.
“Tell me first.”
“I said leave me!”
“Nahi.”
His grip tightened slightly. Not hurting. Just enough to stop her from escaping.
“Car mein chup… abhi bhi chup… problem kya hai?” he demanded. “Tum toh kabhi chup nahi rehti.”
She looked away stubbornly.
“Nothing.”
“Jhoot.”
“Nothing, Vipul!”
“Then look at me and say it.”
She refused.
He gently but firmly held her chin and made her face him.
“Look at me.”
Their eyes locked.
For a second, neither spoke.
His gaze softened without him realizing.
“Who hurt you?” he asked quietly.
And that made her even more angry.
The night air felt heavier than usual.
Vipul still had her trapped between his arms, one hand firm around her waist, the other braced against the wall behind her. They were standing way too closeclose enough to feel each other’s breath, close enough to hear every uneven heartbeat.
His eyes searched her face.
Soft. Worried.
“Who hurt you?” he asked quietly.
The question wasn’t cold this time and that broke her more. Tara looked up at him. Straight into his eyes.
And before she could stop herself… before her brain could think…
“You,” she whispered.
Vipul froze. “Huh?”
Her own eyes widened.
Shit.
What did I just say? Her heart started racing.
K-kuch nahi,” she stammered quickly, breaking eye contact. “Leave me.”
She pushed his chest lightly and slipped out of his hold.
Without waiting another second, she rushed inside the mansion.
Like she was running from him or from her own feelings.Vipul just stood there.
Hand half raised in the air.
Processing.
You.
That one word kept echoing in his head.
He looked at the empty doorway where she had disappeared.
His jaw tightened.
Why did that hurt? Why did it bother him so much? He had been called worse things.
Cold. Rude. Heartless. Robot.
None of it mattered.
Then why did you hurt me feel like someone punched his chest?
He exhaled sharply and ran a hand through his hair in frustration.
After a moment, he turned, got back into his car, and started the engine.
As he drove away, the mansion lights slowly fading in the rearview mirror, one thought kept following him.
Why does it bother me… this much?
For the first time in years. Mr. Vipul didn’t have control over his own heart.
Tara quietly pushed open the mansion door and stepped inside.
The house was calm and dimly lit, the kind of silence that only late nights carry. The staff had probably gone to sleep. Even the clock ticking sounded louder than usual.
She slipped off her heels slowly, trying not to make noise. Her mind was still messed up.
You.
Why did she say that? Why did it hurt so much? And why did his face look… hurt after hearing it?
She shook her head.
“Stupid… stupid Tara…” she muttered to herself. Just then she noticed the soft yellow light coming from the living room.
Ishni was sitting on the couch, legs folded under a blanket, a book in her hands and glasses resting on her nose.
“Tara…” she whispered.
Ishni immediately looked up.
Her tired face lit up instantly. “Taraaa. Aa gayi?” Tara walked closer. “Didi… aap abhi tak soyi nahi?”
Ishni closed her book and smiled softly. “Hmm… I was waiting for you.”
That one sentence hit Tara straight in the heart. “Waiting… for me?” she asked quietly.
“Haan freshers day tha na. Late ho gaya toh thodi tension ho rahi thi.”
The concern in her voice was so pure… so motherly… that Tara’s throat tightened.
Vipul’s worried face flashed in her head too.
Who hurt you?
Her eyes stung suddenly.
“Day kaisa tha?” Ishni asked gently, patting the seat beside her. Tara sat down.
“Good,” she said softly.
“Friends bane?”
“Haan.”
“Enjoy kiya?”
“Haan…”
But her voice didn’t sound convincing.
Ishni noticed immediately.
She tilted her head. “Aur?”
Tara stared at her hands.
“Didi… kabhi kabhi… kisi pe bina reason gussa aa jata hai… aur phir baad mein bura lagta hai… toh kya karein?”
Ishni smiled knowingly.
“Matlab kisi se fight ho gayi?”
Tara pouted. “Maybe…”
Ishni chuckled. “Jispe gussa aata hai na… usually wahi important hota hai.”
Tara looked up.
“Kyuki hum sirf unhi logon se hurt hote hain… jinke feelings matter karte hain.”
Then Silence Her heart skipped.
…jinke feelings matter karte hain.
Oh.
Oh no.
“No… no… aisa kuch nahi,” Tara said quickly, standing up.
Ishni laughed. “Accha baba, mat batao.”
She gently pulled Tara into a hug.
After talking for a while and making sure Tara had eaten something, Ishni gently sent her to her room.
“Now go and sleep. Bohot late ho gaya hai,” she said softly.
“Good night didi,” Tara smiled and disappeared upstairs.
The mansion slowly sank into silence again.
Ishni stretched her arms and walked toward her own room, tired but calm.
As she opened the door, a small smile formed on her lips. The lights were still on.
Thelaptop was lying open on the bed… some office files still on the screen.
And Rudra?
He was fast asleep.
Half sitting, half lying, glasses slightly tilted, one arm thrown over the pillow like he had been working and dozed off mid-task.
Black shirt. Sleeves folded. Hair messy.
Dangerously handsome even while sleeping. She shook her head softly.
“yeh aadmi…bhi na" she whispered.
Slowly, she walked to the bed and carefully took the laptop away from his chest, placing it on the table. Then she adjusted his glasses and kept them aside.
She pulled the blanket over him properly and tucked it around his shoulders.
For a moment, she just stood there staring at him. He looked so calm, so much soft and cute, So different from the ruthless Rudra Singh Rajput the world feared.
Only she got to see this version.
She leaned down and kissed his forehead gently. “Good night…” she whispered.
She was about to turn and go change. When suddenly her eyes fell on his neck.
And then—
Her mind flashed back to the morning.
The Colleagues teasing. “Very handsome mosquito huh?”her embarrassmen!
“Ohhh… so Mr. Rudra Singh Rajput thinks only he can attack people in their sleep, huh?” A wicked smile spread across her face. An evil, dangerous, wifey smile.
She cracked her knuckles dramatically.
“It's revenge time, pati dev…” she whispered mischievously.
Quietly, she climbed onto the bed.
Hovering over him.
Careful not to wake him.
Her fingers pushed his shirt collar aside.
Next day
Morning sunlight streamed through the large dining hall windows, filling the mansion with a soft golden glow. The smell of fresh parathas and chai lingered in the air, making the place feel warm and homely.
Tara sat at the breakfast table, lazily poking her food while half-asleep.
Ishni, on the other hand, was unusually energetic.
“Tara, jaldi se breakfast kar lo,” Ishni said, placing juice in front of her. “Vipul aata hi hoga. Late mat hona phir se.”
Tara nodded. “Haan didi…”
But her mind wasn’t on breakfast.
It was somewhere else.
Tall. Serious. Annoying. Cold.
Stop thinking about him, idiot.
She stuffed a bite into her mouth aggressively.
“By the way…” she asked casually, “jiju kaha hai?”
Ishni almost choked on her tea.
“Room mein aur kaha,” she said, trying to sound normal. But the tiny smirk on her face gave everything away.
Tara narrowed her eyes. “Didi…”
“Hm?”
“That smile… suspicious lag rahi hai.”
Ishni looked away, pretending to focus on buttering toast. “Kuch bhi toh nahi.”
“Didi,” Tara leaned closer dramatically, “aap kuch chupa rahi ho.”
Before Ishni could answer—
“JAAN!”
Rudra’s loud voice echoed from upstairs.
Both girls froze.
“JAAAANNNN!”
This time louder.
Tara blinked. “Why does he sound attacked?” Ishni suddenly started coughing. “Water… water…”
“JAAN! COME HERE RIGHT NOW!”
Now Tara was fully alert.
“Didi… kya kiya aapne?” she whispered suspiciously. “Main? Kuch bhi nahi,” Ishni said innocently, already trying to escape.
But Tara grabbed her hands “NAH. Aapne kuch toh kiya hai.”
Upstairs—
“ISHNIIII!”
Tara burst out laughing. “Lagta hai jiju ko bhoot ne kaat liya.” Ishni tried to look serious but couldn’t stop smiling.
“Main abhi aayi,” she said, standing up quickly.
Ishni practically ran upstairs, leaving Tara alone at the breakfast table.
“Yeh didi bhi na…” Tara muttered, shaking her head with a small smile. “Subah subah pata nahi kya drama chal raha hai.”
Meanwhile, Ishni hurried toward her room, still half-laughing to herself. “Rudra bhi na… itna overreact karte hai.” She pushed the door open.
And stopped. Her steps froze.
Rudra was standing near the mirror… shirtless… wearing only his black trousers.
His broad back faced her, muscles stretching as he adjusted his watch.
But what made her eyes widen—
Her lipstick marks.
Everywhere. Not just his neck.
His collarbone. Chest. Shoulders. Even faint ones trailing down his abs.
Bright red.
Like she had stamped PROPERTY OF ISHNI all over him. She hadn’t just attacked his neck.
She had gone full artist mode.
“Rudra…?” she called carefully.
He turned slowly.
“Lagta hai aapko bohot maza aata hai raat ko attack karne mein, huh?” he said.
She blinked. “Aree what are you saying?”
He walked toward her step by step until she automatically stepped back.
“Jaan,” he said dramatically, “aapko nahi lagta ek sote hue pati ki izzat par haath nahi dalte?”
She folded her arms. Instead of getting shy
Her inner queen woke up.
She raised one brow.
“Excuse me?” she said sassily.
He paused.
“Aap hi toh roz mere upar hickey attack karte ho,” she continued, pointing at him. “Kal maine bas interest ke saath return kiya hai.”
“Interest?” he stared at his body. “Yeh interest hai? Yeh toh loan recovery lag raha hai!”
She smirked. “Kya karu? Main lawyer hoon. Proper evidence chhodti hoon.”
He tried not to smile.
Failed. She circled him like an inspector, pretending to examine her own marks.
“Hm… symmetry bhi perfect hai. Left side balanced. Right side balanced. Good work, Mrs. Rajput.”
“Ishni…” he warned.
“Waise,” she added sweetly, “office jaake bol dena… ‘wife loves me too much simple.”
“I have a board meeting!”
"Toh kya? Unhe bhi pata chale boss married hai, market mein available nahi.”
He stared at her. She winked.
“Branding, pati dev.”
SilenceThen—
He suddenly grabbed her waist and pulled her flush against him. She gasped.
“Acha?” he murmured near her ear. “Itni bold ho gayi ho?”
She tilted her chin up. “Always thi. Aapko ab pata chala.” His grip tightened slightly.
“Phir complain mat karna when I double the revenge tonight.”
Her heart skipped,But she didn’t back down.
Instead she smirked.
“Try me, Mr. Rajput.”
For a second, they just stared at each other.
Downstairs, Tara stood near the main door with her bag hanging loosely on her shoulder, fingers twisting the strap nervously. Morning sunlight spilled across the marble floor, the house unusually quiet except for the ticking clock. She kept glancing at the gate every few seconds.
He said he’ll be here early…
Just then, her eyes lifted and froze.
Near the front gate, Vipul was standing.
Not alone. The same woman from last night.
The same long hair. Same fitted dress. Same overly comfortable smile.
They were talking also laughing
Like it was the most natural thing in the world.
That woman lightly touched his arm again while saying something.
Tara’s chest tightened.
Again…? Her fingers slowly clenched.
She didn’t move, she just stood there… watching. The way he leaned slightly toward her. The way he smiled. A smile Tara hadn’t seen directed at her in days.
So this is why you’re always “busy”…
So this is why my calls sound like disturbance…Her mind whispered cruel thoughts.
Maybe he likes her more…
Maybe I’m just responsibility…
Maybe he never cared the way I did…
She swallowed hard, forcing her face blank before the tears could even think about falling.
After a few minutes, the woman finally stepped back, waved, and left.
Vipul turned and walked inside casually, fixing his watch like nothing happened.
Like he hadn’t just shattered someone silently. As soon as he entered, his eyes landed on Tara standing at the door.
He paused slightly. Maybe surprised she was there. But his voice stayed normal.
“Ready?” he asked simply. Tara just nodded.
“Hmm.” Her voice barely came out.
Cold.
She walked past him without looking up.
And for the first time . Vipul felt something strange in his chest. Because usually…She smiled when she saw him.
Today—She didn’t even look at him.
The car engine hummed softly as Vipul drove out of the mansion gates.
Usually, the moment Tara sat inside the car, the peace died. She would talk nonstop.
Complain about traffic.
Fight with him.Tease him.
Call him “khadoos.”
But today—Nothing. Complete silence.
She just sat near the window, chin resting on her hand, staring outside like he didn’t even exist.
Vipul glanced at her. Once.Twice.
Still quiet. Weird.Very weird.
He cleared his throat.
“Kya hua, Miss TroubleMaker…” he said casually, eyes still on the road, “aaj chup kyun ho?”
Normally she’d snap back with ten insults.
Today— " Tumhe usse kya?” she replied coldly. Vipul blinked. He frowned slightly. “Attitude?”
“Normal hoon.”
“Yeh tumhara normal nahi hai.”
“Phir kya hai mera normal?” she shot back without even looking at him.
He sighed. “Subah se muh fula ke baithi ho. Problem kya hai?”
“Nothing.”
“Jhoot.”
“Vipul, drive. Don’t interrogate me.”
The way she said his name—
Not “Mr. Cold.” Not “Khadoos.”
That bothered him more than it should.
He tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
“Kisne kuch kaha college mein?”
“No.”
Finally the car stopped in front of her college. Before Vipul could even put the car fully in park— The door opened. Tara stepped out quickly.
No “bye.”No sarcasm.No “drive safe, buddhe.”Nothing.
“Tara—” he called out.
She didn’t turn. Didn’t slow down. Just adjusted her bag and walked straight inside the gate like he didn’t even exist.
Vipul watched her back disappear into the crowd. He sighed, running a hand through his hair.
“Pagal ladki…” he muttered.
For a second, he almost stepped out to stop her. Almost.
But then his ego kicked in.
“If she doesn’t care… why should I?”
He clicked his tongue and drove away. Yet—He kept checking the rear-view mirror.
As if she’d come running back.
She didn’t.
---
Tara walked through the corridor, her footsteps slower than usual. Students were laughing.
Her mind was stuck on only one person.
Vipul.
“Does he really care about me…?” she thought.
It had been months.
We met daily, talk like serious but he never talked properly.Always that cold face.
That irritated look. That “don’t disturb me” attitude.But with that woman…
He was Laughing talking normally. So easily.
“Argggghhh!” she groaned internally.
“Control, Tara… control…”
She kicked a small pebble on the floor angrily.
“Why am I even thinking about him so much?”
“He’s not my anything.”
“Not my boyfriend.”
“Not my husband.”
“Nothing.”
Then why does it hurt?
Why did her chest feel tight seeing him smile with someone else?
Why did his smallest words matter so much? She stopped near the window.
“…How can I find out if he cares about me or not?”
Her brain started plotting.
Options:
Ignore him?
Make him jealous?
Talk directly?
Or torture him a little?
A slow, mischievous smile crept onto her face.
“Haan… jealous. Let’s see Mr. Cold… kitna farak padta hai tumhe.”
Her eyes sparkled dangerously.
“If you care… you’ll react. And if you don’t…”
Her smile faded slightly.
“…then I’ll stop hoping.”
But somewhere deep inside--She was praying. Please care.
_____
Vipul sat inside his cabin, the cold air conditioner humming softly as files lay scattered across his desk.
He hadn’t read a single line properly in the last ten minutes.
His pen tapped continuously against the table. His jaw tightened.
Tara.
“Damn it…” he muttered under his breath.
He leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes for a second.
“What’s her problem yaar?”
“Sometimes she talks so sweetly… like nothing’s wrong.”
“Sometimes attitude itna… like I committed some crime.”
He opened a file.
Read one sentence. Didn’t understand anything. His mind replayed the morning.
Her silence the way she was ignoring him.
Her walking away without looking back.
His grip tightened on the paper.
“Whatever.”
“I don’t care.”
He signed aggressively.
“I hate her.”
But even after saying that, His chest felt heavier instead of lighter. He threw the pen on the desk.
“If I hate her… then why the hell am I thinking about her again and again?”
He remembered last night.
The wearing that black bodycon. His heartbeat going crazy. The way every guy at the college was staring.
His jaw clenched instantly.
“Cheap idiots…” he muttered unconsciously.
Then he paused.
Wait.
Why was he angry?
She can wear whatever she wants.
She can talk to whoever she wants.
She can laugh with anyone.
Why did he feel like punching that guy?
And why did that bother him too?
He ran his hand through his hair in frustration.
“This girl is messing with my head.”
He stared out the glass window of his cabin. Without realizing his fingers opened his phone.
Last message: Call me once it's done.
No reply. His thumb hovered over her contact.
“Should I call…?”
He immediately locked the phone.
“No.”
“Why should I?”
“She didn’t even say bye.”
“Let her be.”
Still every five seconds later. He would checked his phone again and again.
No calls. No messages.His expression darkened.
“Idiot …”
A soft sigh escaped him.
“…at least text kar sakti thi safely reached.”
He leaned back, staring at the ceiling.
“I really am screwed, aren’t I…?”
Because no matter how much he said I hate her—His heart clearly didn’t agree.
______
The college campus was louder than usual.
Music blasted from the auditorium.
Students laughed, shouting, running around with decorations and props.
Tara walked with her group of friends, nodding and smiling at whatever they were saying. But she wasn’t really there.
“Then he slipped on the stage yaar, pura gir gaya!” one friend laughed loudly.
Everyone burst out laughing.
Tara forced a small smile.
“Yeah… funny…”
But her mind was somewhere else.
Or rather…Someone else.
Vipul.
Her chest tightened again.
“If he cares… then why does he talk to her like that?”
“And if he doesn’t care…
then why does he always show up for me?”
Mixed signals it was so irritating.
She sighed dramatically
Her friends moved ahead, still chatting, while Tara slowed down near the garden area.
She immediately shook her head.
“Pagal ho gayi ho kya Tara?”
“If he liked me… he wouldn’t behave like a robot half the time.”
She folded her arms. “But… what if he’s just bad at expressing?”
She stopped walking. An idea slowly formed in her mind.
Tara quietly excused herself from her friends, pretending like she needed water, but her mind was already set on something else.Her eyes scanned the corridor.
But she was searching for only one face.
Raj.
“Where is he yaar…” she muttered under her breath.
Just then—
Near the notice board, leaning casually against the wall, sleeves folded, messy curly hair falling on his forehead…
There he was.
Talking to a couple of guys. Looking unfairly good.Cute… but with that slightly devilish smile.
The type that easily grabbed attention.
Perfect. Tara’s lips curved slowly.
“Bas… mil gaya bakra.”
She walked towards him confidently.
“Hey Raj!” she called out.
He turned instantly “Hey… Tara.”
She tilted her head slightly, acting casual. “Kya jaa rahe ho?”
“Canteen… friends ke saath,” he said. “Tum?”
She pretended to think. “Bore ho rahi thi… thought I’ll roam around.” Then she smiled sweetly.“Saath chaloge?”
Raj’s eyes widened a little.
“Of course!”
Inside, Tara smirked very good
As they started walking together, she purposely slowed her steps, laughing a little louder than usual, talking extra comfortably, brushing her hair back dramatically.