Chapter 3
3
S he’d lost her mind. That was the only reason why she was following the most dangerous man on the planet to God only knew where.
She should have gone straight home when she saw his car standing at the opposite signal. She shouldn’t have let her curiosity overtake her mind. She should have ignored him, and the danger that lurked around him, and returned home, instead of following him like she was.
But thanks to Avantika, she’d finally, for the first time in months, been able to escape her bodyguard. She hadn’t wanted anyone in her family to know that she was going to meet Mihir. That would have created a huge uproar, which neither of them needed. Their conversation needed to remain private. That’s why she’d enlisted Avi’s help.
Avi had pretended to be sick and left early from the party, taking Ananya’s car with her, as she’d arrived with Dev and one of her brothers. Ananya had announced that she was retiring early too, and had informed her bodyguard, Adam, that Avantika was taking her car, so he could turn in for the night as well. What no one knew was that she had hidden in the back seat of her own car while Avantika had driven off. After dropping her friend home, Ananya had driven straight in the direction of Mihir’s massive seaside estate. On the way, however, she had noticed his Bugatti at a signal, and on a whim, decided to follow him. Now, as Mihir turned into a narrow lane on the Dubai-Abu Dhabi highway, she began to further question her judgment. She ought to turn back. It wasn’t too late. But her body refused to do what her mind was warning her to.
She wanted to see where he was going. While her agenda for tonight had been to confront him and put an end to this vendetta he had going on with her, her resolve had started to shake with every mile that had taken her closer to his house. Doing this meant shutting the last door on the past and breaking that tie that bound her to him. Her heart had screamed in protest all through the drive.
But then she’d seen him at the signal, and for some inane reason, her curiosity had been piqued. For months, she had tried to catch his attention, to learn more about him. Tonight, perhaps, was her chance to see what he did when no one was watching.
Ugh. Rajiv would never let her out of the house if he knew what she was up to. But her mind was set. She was doing this. She twirled the ring dangling from the gold chain around her neck with one hand. The red diamond twinkled under passing the street lights, grabbing her attention for a second. At one time, this ring belonged to him . At one time, she’d thought that she belonged to him too. She’d thought he was her forever. Alas, how wrong she’d been.
She’d started wearing this ring as a locket on her chain after that disastrous yacht incident, and now she wore it all the time, especially because it annoyed him to see it on her. Both his brothers had similar rings, given to all of them by their late adopted father.
Mihir Oshnov—adopted son of the uber-rich oligarch Alexander Oshnov. Till date, she didn’t know his whole story. She hadn’t even known who he was when she had fallen in love with him all those years ago. He’d given her very little of himself back then, and like a fool, she’d assumed it to be enough.
She’d studied him from afar for years, especially after the yacht incident, and now, she knew everything that was publicly available for her to know about him.
His family jointly owned O-Corp—one of the largest business conglomerates in the world. They were into diamond mines, oil wells, and energy. After his adopted father passed away five years ago, Mihir had become the Managing Director of O-Corp. But even prior to that, while his father was still alive, Mihir had been handed the reins of O-Energy. His forward-thinking approach and commitment to reusable and sustainable energy had quickly earned him favor with environment ministers globally. People listened when he spoke. And now, after becoming the MD of O-Corp, he was frequently in the news, attending meetings and discussions with heads of states and business tycoons from various countries.
It amazed her to see how successful he really was. The only thing missing everywhere were pictures of him. For some reason, the media never posted pictures of him, which was rather strange. Was it deliberate? And if so, why? Fuck. Her curiosity about him was endless.
She focused on the road ahead, maintaining a healthy distance from Mihir’s car, ensuring there were always at least two cars between her vehicle and his. When Mihir took a turn onto a side road, she followed discreetly behind. The traffic around her thinned as she drove further.
Fifteen minutes later, Mihir took another turn onto an even narrower road lined with palm trees, which led to a compound with a small, single-storey shed.
She made a face. There was literally no way she could follow him down what looked like a private stretch of road without being noticed. She pulled her car to the side, watching as both his Bugatti and the Escalade following him drove into the compound and finally stopped in front of the building.
What are you doing here, Mihir? What is inside that damn shed that you felt the need to come here in the middle of the night? And could she use it in her grand revenge plan against him?
She swore. She was behaving mental. Hadn’t she just decided to abort the revenge plan? But Mihir had made her life hell these past years. Perhaps this was her opportunity to learn something devious about him and use it against him.
She peered out of her window. Damn it. It was too dark to make out much. She squinted hard, finally spotting Mihir’s shadowy figure as he stepped out of his car and entered the warehouse, two of his bodyguards following him.
She tapped her steering wheel, her belly fluttering with intrigue and inquisitiveness. She’d reached this far. She couldn’t just sit still and not know what was going on inside that damn warehouse, and why Mihir had chosen to come here.
Putting her phone on silent, she pocketed it. Good thing she’d changed into her jeans and sneakers before taking off from her house. She unbuckled her seat belt and stepped out of the car, running between the palm trees, making her way toward the warehouse.
The compound was dark, lit by only a few bulbs. Tall stacks of large corrugated wooden crates were littered all around. It looked like a scene straight out of a murder movie. She cursed herself for behaving so recklessly. But she was here now, and she was going to find out what Mihir was up to. Then she’d get the hell out of here. She weaved her way through the rows of crates. Hiding behind a tall stack, she assessed her surroundings. There was no one here—no Mihir and no bodyguards. She had to make her way inside and find out what the hell was going on.
Suddenly, all her senses went on full alert. Electricity crackled down her nape. The feeling of being watched washed over her. Her heart thundered as she looked around. No one was there. It was just her imagination playing up.
But that familiar prickling sensation grew stronger. Her heart squeezed and heat spread across her skin. She spun around, and her eyes met caramel-brown ones. Her breath hitched. Dressed in all black, his eyes seething with anger, his jaw tight, and his sculpted lips set in a straight line, Mihir Oshnov stood in front of her, looking like an avenging angel. A gorgeous, avenging angel. Her eyes traced the scar on his face. That scar… It only added to his appeal.
Fuck, he looked sexy. Years ago, she’d found him handsome, but now he oozed danger and sensuality—a potent combination that she foolishly found even more attractive.
Mihir’s eyes fell on the ring dangling on her chest before he looked at her again. More heat flared under her skin. Her heart thundered as she realized that, for the first time in years, she was truly alone with him.
She raised her chin, shaking off every emotion she was beginning to feel. “Hello, husband . We are finally alone.”
His eyes glinted dangerously. “What are you doing here?”
His deep, accented voice slid across her skin, causing a subtle quiver to run through her. She forced herself to ignore it.
“I see you’re still avoiding the fact that we are legally bound,” she said.
“You’re right . ” His lips tightened. “I refuse to address the worst mistake of my life.”
Her heart pinched. She ought to have expected this reaction from him. Nonetheless, she soldiered on, refusing to show him how his cruel words hurt her.
“That still doesn’t change our truth,” she said, as casually as she could. “You and I are still very much married, husband .”
“I’m not your husband.”
“I have a piece of paper that says otherwise, husband.”
“Anna, stop calling me that,” he ordered.
Anna . He was the only one who’d ever called her by that name. At one time, she’d loved to hear it from his lips. But now, it was a haunting reminder of lost dreams and shattered hopes.
“Stop calling me Anna,” she retorted.
“I will call you what I want, Anna .”
“Then that works the same for me, husband .”
His eyes hardened. “Why are you here? Have you lost your goddamned mind?”
“I wanted to talk to you.”
“And you thought this was the best way to do that, da ?”
She shrugged. “Okay. I was also curious to know where you were going.”
“Why? So, you can have more rubbish to write about me in your gossip rag?”
“Maybe. And Noir is not a gossip rag.”
“When it comes to me, it is.” His jaw worked. His irritation only fueled her delight. It thrilled her to know he was not as immune to her writings as he pretended to be.
She looked around. “What is this creepy place? Why are you here?”
“Nothing you need to know about. Get back to your car and drive away, Anna. This is not safe.”
She moved a step closer to him. “Happy to know that you care about me, husband .”
His lips thinned. “I really don’t. But I do care about your brother and your sisters enough to ensure that nothing happens to you—for their sake.”
Her heart twisted at his harsh words, but she ignored the pain.
“I’m not leaving till I talk to you, husband .”
“Stop calling me that, and we can talk.”
“Fine, have it your way, for now.” She looked at him for a long moment. “This war between you and me is affecting our families.”
He lifted a shoulder and dropped it as if it didn’t matter to him in the least. “They will live. Is that all?”
“What is wrong with you?” she stormed. “You and I fighting—it has to stop. We have to be better for the sake of our siblings. They deserve to be happy.”
“My brothers are happy, as are your sisters.”
“No, they are not. You are too damn stubborn and selfish to see it for what it is. They want to get married but cannot because you and I cannot be in the same room together.”
His jaw ticked. “They can get married anytime they want. They have my blessing.”
She clucked her tongue. “You just don’t get it. You’re making it all about you. Armaan and Vedant refuse to get married unless you’re there with them.”
He tilted his head to study her. “Not sure how you expect me to respond to that, when I’ve made myself pretty clear as to what I want. Nonetheless, I can reiterate—I will happily be there at their weddings; you can make an excuse to stay out of them.”
Raw anger coursed through her, followed by extreme sadness.
“You really are a jerk to expect that of me.”
His expression remained impassive, betraying no emotion. None at all.
She steeled her resolve. “I want to negotiate.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m sure there is something I can give you that will ensure you and I can be in the same room and pretend to be civil to one another for the sake of our families.”
His lips tipped at the corners. “Is that right? Hmm. What is it that you can give me?”
His eyes coursed over her slowly. Leisurely. It felt like a sensual touch gliding across her skin. Her pulse skittered. A shiver rippled down her skin. He saw it. His caramel eyes swirled with satisfaction when they returned to hers. Fuck. She hated that he knew he still had that effect on her.
“There is nothing you have on offer that would interest me,” he said flatly.
She leaned forward and grabbed his shirt collar, pulling him to her, until their faces were merely a breath apart. “If—and it is a big if —I were to ever offer you what you are so clearly insinuating, then I’m confident that you would most definitely be interested . You see, the thing is, husband , you may have forgotten about us. But I most certainly haven’t. I remember all the ways to make you tremble. I remember all the ways to make you… beg .”
She scraped a hand down his jaw. His eyes turned molten, the brown in his irises changing to gold. She smirked. Finally, she had a reaction out of him—one that wasn’t filled with disdain and contempt. Her fingers skittered up to his mouth. His lips parted on an exhale as she boldly traced his lips. He caught her hand in his.
She shrugged out of his hold. “Don’t ever think you have the upper hand in whatever it is that still exists between us.”
“The only thing that exists between us is hate and aversion,” Mihir shot back. “I don’t want anything from you. After what you did to me, I don’t want to have anything to do with you.”
His harsh words stabbed at her chest. She had no clue what he was talking about. She’d gone over that time with him so many times in her head, and she still had no inkling as to what she had done that was so wrong that he hated her for it.
She ignored the pain coursing through her, focusing instead on the anger he’d ignited. He’d judged her and found her guilty of a crime she didn’t even know she had committed. Now, she was done playing this game with him, which meant she had to cut the final cord binding her to him.
“You said you want nothing to do with me, yet you continue to remain married to me. Why Mihir?”
At his silence, Ananya shook her head. “You and I need to move on. If you agree to my terms, then I am willing to give you a divorce.”
Her stomach fell as she said the words, but they needed to be said. She had mourned him for too long, while he had gone about his life forgetting she even existed. Forgetting that he’d married her in a little ceremony at a beautiful temple in London, one dreamy evening long ago. She needed closure from him and this was the way forward.
Mihir tilted his head to study her. “I have no interest in a divorce. Keeping you bound to me is my ultimate revenge for what you did to me. You can never escape me. You can never move on from me. I won’t allow it.”
Her eyes widened. More pain erupted in her chest. No wonder he wasn’t concerned about anything she said or did. She’d always wondered why he’d never tackled the fact that they were married. Four years had passed since she’d met him on the yacht, and yet he’d never approached her or acknowledged the fact that she was his wife. Now she knew why. Thanks to their family’s connections, he couldn’t hurt her outright, so he’d planned to destroy her in the most diabolical way—by never letting her move on. It was… It was plain awful.
Yet she asked, “Do you really think you can hurt me, knowing it will affect all the people we love?”
His silence was all the answer she needed. If this was his revenge, then she wasn’t going to let him get away with it.
“You know what, let’s tell everyone the truth,” Ananya said, feigning nonchalance. “Since you and I are going to stay married, this makes perfect sense. Let’s announce it to the world. Imagine how shocked our siblings will be. Oh, even better, this will be the perfect scoop for Noir.”
She air-quoted her next words. “ Secretly tied the knot: This Russian billionaire has been hiding his marriage from the world for seven years. Yes, it’s true. Stay tuned for more revealing news from our very own Miss Butterfly in the next edition of Noir. ”
The disgust on his face egged her on. “Ooh, Noir will become the most sought-after magazine once I publish our marriage certificate for the world to see. Oh, the euphoria… I guess I’ll say bye now. Thanks for giving me the best scoop ever.”
She spun around to leave, but he caught her by the shoulder. Her foot slipped on the gravel, and she tripped. Strong hands caught her arms, and she was pulled against his hard chest.
His scent was the first thing she remembered—a vivid memory from the past. Leather, wood, and musk—strong, potent, masculine, and pure Mihir. It was a scent she had loved at one time. She shifted, and now her breasts were crushed against his chest. Her heart trembled. Goosebumps washed over her skin.
The feel of him draped over her, that strong chest she was plastered against, all of it invoked memories of the time when he’d meant everything to her. Her mind spun, oscillating between the past and the present—long lunches, cozy walks in Hyde Park, sipping coffee in cute cafés , rainy nights spent studying together, stolen glances, shared laughter, passionate lovemaking. The overload of memories made her dizzy and disoriented. She stumbled. He steadied her. Their eyes met. His palms moved up, until they brushed her upper arms. Her hands curled around the soft fabric of his black shirt. Her breath stuttered as she was sucked into his gaze. She realized how close they were and how, without either of them moving, the distance between them had further dissolved. Her whole body was plastered to his, his mouth a mere inch away from hers.
Now, she was dizzy for a different reason. It was him . All him. Her emotions clashed inside her. He was the only man who made her feel like this—angry and intoxicated at the same time. He was the only man who made her nerves sizzle.
The sound of cars arriving broke the silence around them. They parted immediately. From between the crates, she could see a convoy of three cars entering the compound. Mihir’s phone rang. He spoke in rapid Russian to whoever was on call with him for a few seconds before disconnecting. Then, taking her elbow, he began dragging her to the right, zigzagging between the stacks. He pulled open the door, and they entered the warehouse.
“What are you doing?” she yelped. He hauled her toward a dark corner, hiding her behind a group of taller stacks of crates.
“Stay here,” he ordered.
“What is going on?”
Lifting her chin, he looked into her eyes. “I need you to stay here. Don’t make a sound, don’t move, and for the love of God, don’t do anything reckless.”
“Mihir—”
“Not now, Anna,” he said sharply. “These men outside are dangerous. When I learned you were following me, I canceled my meeting with them, but they’re here nonetheless. I have to find out why.”
“You knew I was following you?”
He gave her a dirty look, as if the question was irrelevant. It wasn’t. She’d assumed he’d only caught her sneaking around here. How the hell had he known she’d been following him? She’d kept a fair distance even from that massive Escalade that followed him wherever he went. And who were these dangerous people he was so concerned about? And if he was concerned, then why the hell was he meeting them?
Sudden fear assaulted her.
His phone beeped. With one last warning glance, Mihir moved away from her and stepped out of the warehouse.