CHAPTER 20! HIS ROOM
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Aadhira woke with a sharp, violent gasp, her lungs burning as if she had just surfaced from deep under freezing water.
For one beautiful, fragile second, the world was completely quiet. There was no metallic smell of gunpowder. No heavy boots scraping against loose grit. No desperate, terrifying sprint through dark Mumbai alleys.
Then the floodgates opened.
Gravel. A hand twisting into her hair. Someone laughing. The suffocating smell of rust and damp concrete.
Aadhira squeezed her eyes shut, her fingers clenching around the fabric beneath her until her knuckles turned white. Her breath came too fast, the phantom scent of warehouse dust burning the back of her throat.
"Radha Rani..." Her voice was a fragile, cracked whisper. "Have I died? Itni choti si umar main utha liya apne mujhe?"
The silence stretched for a beat. Then-
"No."
A deep, smooth baritone answered from the shadows.
Aadhira's head snapped toward the far corner of the room.
Aryav sat in a high-backed, dark leather chair near the window, entirely detached from the morning warmth.
He looked as though he had been sitting there for hours in absolute stillness-perfectly dressed in a crisp, dark tailored shirt, perfectly calm, and perfectly terrifying.
Her eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, tracking the dimensions of the space.
The ceiling towered so high above her that it felt less like a bedroom and more like the inside of an ancient, secluded cathedral.
To her left, massive panes of floor-to-ceiling glass overlooked the vast, shimmering gray-blue expanse of the Arabian Sea.
The harsh morning sunlight cut through the salt air, catching the scent of sandalwood and spilling across polished, bone-white Italian marble.
Aadhira scrambled backward against the headboard, dragging the heavy silk duvet all the way up to her chin.
Aryav raised a single, dark eyebrow. "Planning to fight me with a bedsheet?"
"What is this? Where am I?"
"My room," he replied smoothly.
"No." She pointed a trembling hand out from beneath the silk, gesturing wildly around the vast space. "Look at this place. No normal human being owns a bedroom like thi. It's... it's insane."
Aryav took a slow, measured sip from a porcelain cup of black coffee. " Apparently I do."
"You're not normal."
"That's probably true."
The silence stretched between them like a taut wire. Then, the memory hit her. The heavy black handgun.
The cold weight of the steel in her palms. The absolute, unalterable fact that she had pointed a loaded weapon directly at the center of Aryav Rai Shinghania's chest.
Her soul completely left her body.
Sakhi, please save me this time. Agar bach gayi toh ek mahina bina complain kiye lauki khaungi.
I swear.
Sakhi: You won't.
I will!
Main Shaurya bhai ke hidden chocolate stash ko bhi haath tak nahi lagaungi.
You didn't point guns at men like Aryav and live to tell the story over breakfast.
Aryav didn't miss the sudden shift in her posture.
His mouth twitched at the corner, just slightly. "You've died approximately six times in your head during the last ten seconds," he murmured, setting the cup down on a dark wood side table with a faint, clinical click.
" I... I am sorry."
" For."
"I... I pointed a gun at you last night," she whispered, her voice cracking. "You didn't even try to stop me. You just stood there."
"your hands were shaking."
Aadhira wiped her cheek furiously with the back of her hand, her shoulders giving a small, involuntary shudder.
Should I be worried?"
Aryav's eyes remained pinned to hers, dark and unblinking.
"You're asking that now?"
"It was an expensive gun," Aryav corrected quietly.
Aadhira blinked, utterly bewildered by his absolute lack of outrage.
"That's the specific crime you're focused on right now? The property theft? I threatened your life!"
"Do you know what that gun costs?"
"Bhagwan ke liye normal insaan ki tarah jawab de do."
Aryav gave a low, dry chuckle that vibrated deep within his chest, smooth and dark.
The sound stunned her into silence. It felt wrong, entirely unnatural, like witnessing a predator show playfulness before a strike.
Aadhira narrowed her eyes at him, her voice trembling but defensive. "You're enjoying this. You're enjoying how terrified I am."
"Maybe," he admitted.
"Aap sach mein ajeeb aadmi ho."
"I know."
"Ye baat ghar wale bolte hain ya outsiders bhi?"
Aryav looked genuinely thoughtful for a fraction of a second. " No One."
Aadhira let herself fall backward onto the mountain of plush pillows, staring up at the grand chandelier." That's my life."
"Because you woke up in a luxury suite overlooking the ocean?"
"Because I woke up in a billionaire ceo's bedroom after pointing a lethal weapon at him, and he's currently mocking my emotional trauma."
Aryav nodded once.
"Fair."
Aadhira turned her head on the pillow, staring at him through the tangled strands of her hair.
Aryav stared back, the amusement slowly draining from his sharp features until his face was a mask of absolute gravity.
Then, his voice came again, low and steady. "Are you hurt?"
"No."
"That's not what I asked."
The question caught her completely off guard. The vast room suddenly felt smaller, closer, the distance between the bed and his chair shrinking until she could hear the quiet rhythm of his breathing.
Aadhira opened her mouth to give a sarcastic retort, to push the fear away like she always did, but her throat closed up. The truth slipped out, raw and breaking.
"Mujhe laga main ghar nahi pahunchungi," she whispered. A large, heavy tear finally tracked into her hair, followed quickly by another.
"Mujhe laga bhai ko phir kabhi nahi dekh paungi. I thought they were going to kill me."
Aryav looked away.
Aadhira stopped speaking, her breathing going uneven again.
Aryav stood. Without a word, he walked past the bed, past her, toward the far side of the room.
Aadhira watched him in confusion until the heavy curtains slid shut under his grip.
The Arabian Sea disappeared. The harsh morning sunlight vanished. The room became quieter, darker, and softer.
Aryav returned to his chair and sat down. He said nothing, and for a long moment, neither did she.
Then Aadhira realized the sunlight had been directly in her eyes the entire time.
A sharp crack echoed through the quiet.
Under his tightened grip, a fine fracture lines the porcelain cup in his hand. Neither of them mentioned it.
Her shoulders shook, the fear she'd been holding together with stubbornness and pure adrenaline finally breaking apart.
The dark road.
The hands grabbing her.
The terrifying reality of how easily a life could be rewritten in the dark.
Aryav didn't offer comfort.
He didn't move closer.
He didn't tell her everything would be okay.
The coffee in his hand had long gone cold.
Aryav never noticed.
Aadhira swallowed hard, watching him stare out toward the now-hidden expanse of the sea. Somewhere in city, four men were still breathing.
Judging by the look in his eyes, that situation was temporary.
The massive double bedroom doors swung open with a heavy, unceremonious crash.
Nobody knocked. Because knocking implied a basic respect for boundaries and a sequence of good decisions. And good decisions had never been a Rai Shinghania family tradition.
Reyansh entered first, his long strides carrying him into the suite before he suddenly slammed his boots against the marble floor, stopping dead in his tracks.
The others, moving in a tight, noisy pack behind him, nearly collided straight into his back.
A suffocating silence descended on the room.
Aadhira looked up from the center of the massive bed. Six distinct, intensely curious faces stared across the expanse of the room.
First at her. Then their eyes shifted to Aryav, who remained entirely still in his leather chair by the window. Then their gazes snapped back to her with terrifying synchronization.
Aadhira felt a hot flush creep up her neck. She frantically gripped the fine silk blanket, pulling it all the way up to her chin.
Reyansh lifted a finger, pointing directly at the mattress. "Do you have any idea where you're sitting?"
"His bed."
Reyansh stared at Aryav.
Then at Aadhira.
"I wasn't allowed in this room for twenty-eight years."
He pointed at her.
"twenty. eight."
"I don't know what's more shocking," Tara murmured, her sharp eyes scanning the layout of the suite. "The fact that she's here, or the fact that he's allowing witnesses."
"The panic attack I'm having should answer that," Aadhira muttered, her voice muffled by the fabric.
"On his bed," Aarush added, shaking his head. "Forget the kidnapping. Explain the bedroom access."
Myra tilted her head from the back of the pack, her expression softening as she took in Aadhira's pale face. "Can we stop interrogating her? She's clearly exhausted." She paused, her eyes dropping slightly. "Although, I am deeply curious about the shirt."
Tara stepped forward, her observant gaze narrowing as it locked onto the crisp, oversized dark fabric draped over Aadhira's shoulders. "Forget the shirt. Look at him."
"What?" Reyansh asked.
"He's had the same cup of coffee for an hour," Tara pointed out flatly. "It's frozen solid. He hasn't moved."
Instantly, a collective wave of low whistles erupted from the twins, Arjun and Aarush exchanging identical, wicked grins.
Everyone froze because Aryav suddenly lifted his head from his leather chair. He didn't laugh. He didn't even smile.
He simply directed one single, unblinking glance from his obsidian eyes straight at his siblings and cousins.
The reaction was immediate, splitting the room into distinct wavelengths of survival instincts.
Tara's mouth snapped shut, her posture instantly turning rigid as she studied the ceiling plaster.