Chapter 15
SAURAV
I saw Kavya rushing toward me, her hand clutching mine with desperation. Her eyes were wide, brimming with tears, and for a moment, my chest tightened.
"Kavya..." I said, scanning her face, trying to understand. "What's wrong?"
She pointed toward Abhiraj, who was approaching us quickly. Her voice broke as she stammered, "That man... he tried to—"
My stomach twisted. I knew what she was about to say.
"...he tried to force himself on you?" I finished, my tone sharper than I intended.
She nodded, her tears spilling freely.
And suddenly, a storm of anger rose inside me. I glanced at Abhiraj Sisodiya, wanting to murder him then and there.
Ignoring irritation I kept my expression neutral and said, "And you think I believe you?"
Her eyes widened, hurt flashing across her face. But I couldn’t hold back. The anger, the exhaustion it all poured out all at once.
"You're making up the same story again? How many times are you going to repeat this nonsense? Do you really think he’s stupid enough to believe you? Or is that what you're counting on? What do you want from him? His money too? Are you trying to trap him now?"
The music stopped and silence fell like a heavy curtain. I felt the weight of dozens of eyes on us, the crowd frozen, watching. Abhiraj appeared beside us, his presence only fueling my fury.
Kavya looked at me as if I were a stranger. Her hand slipped from mine, and I felt the sting of that loss instantly.
"He tried..." she whispered, her voice trembling. "He tried to take advantage of me."
But all I could see was her walking with him earlier, her choice to go. Why the fuck she went with him in the first place.
"But I saw you were the one who went with him, didn’t you?" I stepped closer, my anger burning through me.
I shoved my hand in my pocket so that no one noticed how much I was shaking with fury.
"Dad is leaving for home. He’ll be in the parking lot. Just go with him," I said, my voice hard, trying to end this before it spiraled further.
"But he..." she tried again.
"Just go home, Kavya!" I shouted, my voice echoing, harsher than I meant.
She flinched, and guilt stabbed me instantly, but I didn’t take the words back.
She turned and ran, her figure blurring through the crowd. People whispered, phones lifted, recording everything. My chest tightened as I watched her flee, but I stood frozen, unable to move, unable to undo what I had just said.
My nose flared with rage. Without a second thought, I grabbed Sisodiya by the collar and slammed him against the bar counter.
“Now I’m asking you a few questions and you’re going to answer honestly.” I pressed him harder into the wood. “Did you touch my wife?”
“Yes…” He smirked.
I hate his shitty smirk.
I drove my fist into his face, the crack of his nose breaking echoing through the room.
“Did you assault her?”
“Yes…”
Another punch. My fury burned hotter, consuming me. I couldn’t stop myself as I struck again, each blow more brutal than the last.
I hauled him down with me as he crashed to the floor, the impact echoing through the stunned silence of the ballroom. Glass shattered, people shouted, but all I could hear was the blood rushing in my ears.
He tried to crawl back, his palm slipping on the polished floor, but I grabbed the collar of his coat again and dragged him up just enough to slam my fist into his face.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Each punch landed harder than the last. His head snapped back, blood spraying from his already broken nose, splattering across the marble tiles. A few people gasped. Someone shouted my name. I didn’t care.
All I could see was Kavya’s tear-stained face.
All I could hear was her trembling voice.
He tried…
My fist crashed into his jaw again.
"You think it's funny?" I growled, grabbing a fistful of his hair and forcing his head up. "You think touching my wife is a joke?"
He wheezed, blood dripping from his mouth. Yet that same disgusting smirk still lingered on his face.
"She's so beau..."
The next punch cut his sentence in half. Hard. His body went limp for a second before I dragged him upright again and slammed him against the nearest pillar. The sound echoed like a gunshot.
"Say that again," I hissed, my knuckles throbbing.
He coughed, blood splattering across my shirt. Around us the crowd had formed a wide circle. Some people were recording. Some were whispering, but no one dared step forward.
I seized his collar again, my knuckles aching from the blows I’d already delivered, and raised my fist, ready to smash his face into the counter once more. But before I could strike, a hand clamped around my forearm.
“Saurav, stop it now!” Tanya’s voice cracked with desperation. “Please… please stop!”
I turned, my chest heaving, and met her wide, terrified eyes. She flinched at the fury etched across my face.
For a moment, the world seemed to hang in silence—the bar, the broken man beneath my grip, Tanya’s trembling plea. My rage roared inside me, demanding another punch, another punishment. But something stopped me.
I shook her hand off, glaring at Abhiraj one last time, my stare was enough to tell him this wasn’t over. Then, with a sharp breath, I pushed away from the counter and stormed toward the door.
“Saurav… ” Tanya’s voice followed me, her footsteps quick behind mine.
“Don’t follow me,” I snapped before I walked out.
_______
When I headed toward my room, her muffled voice stopped me in my tracks. My steps slowed, guilt gnawing at me like a parasite. I glanced at my bloodied fist, clenching it harder, as if pain could drown out the chaos inside me. My heart hammered against my ribs as I moved closer to her room.
One long breath. Then another. I stepped inside, the room that used to be mine. My sanctuary. My safest place. And now it belonged to her. She had claimed it without my consent, but the truth was, she didn’t need it. She owned it anyway.
The first thing I saw was her curled up on the bed, cocooned in misery. Her back trembled with sobs, her face buried in the pillow, muffling cries she didn’t want the walls to hear. I moved closer, my eyes locking on the mark that bastard had left on her back.
My fist clenched again. I shut my eyes briefly, fighting the storm inside me. I should leave. I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t care. She was the same woman who once accused me of raping her. If I touched her again, she might file another complaint.
Complaint. As if that scared me.
Without thinking, I sank onto the bed. My hand slipped into my pocket, pulling out the ointment. I squeezed a generous amount onto my fingertips and dragged myself closer to her trembling frame.
She flinched, snapping her head toward me.
My hand froze. Her eyes were red, and swollen, and looked like she had cried for a whole damn year. And for reasons I couldn’t explain, my chest ached at the sight.
“Don’t touch me!” she hissed, recoiling like I was poisonous.
I swallowed my irritation, pushing it aside. I slid closer anyway. She retreated further, pressing herself against the headboard, her fear radiating in every heartbeat I could hear pounding in her chest.
“Don’t you dare come any closer,” she warned, voice trembling.
But I ignored her. My hand gripped her shoulder, turning her gently. I pressed her face against the pillow before tugging at the ties of her blouse.
Her breath hitched sharply. My fingers shivered as I began applying the ointment, slow and careful, tracing the wound.
Guilt burned through me, because damn it, I was growing hard just from touching her.
My fingers brushed her smooth skin, and for a fleeting second, I wanted to kiss her naked skin.
But I forced myself to retreat, to keep control.
“It’ll be fine in a few days,” I muttered, staring at the scar like it was mocking me.
Kavya lay silent, her face buried in the pillow. I waited, half-expecting her to spit out something foolish, something sharp but she said nothing. Maybe I hurt her. But not more than what she did to me.
Ego shoved aside, I sank down again, my hand threading through her silky hair. I pulled the blanket over her trembling body, staying there until her breathing softened, until sleep finally claimed her.
Only then did I switch off the light and walk out quietly, leaving her in the room that used to be mine.
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