CHAPTER 3
MAAHI
I pick up my damaged phone, my gaze locked on the man responsible for its state. His dark eyes meet mine, devoid of remorse, and I sense his displeasure at the news of my alliance with Shyam.
“That needs to be repaired,” Shyam says, stepping forward to take my phone. “I'll drop it off for servicing on my way. Do you mind?”
“That would be very helpful,” I smile.
“Maahi, bring some ice cubes. We can't let these burns on his chest worsen,” Daadi calls out from the side.
I'm the one who caused the burns on Prince Pompous's chest by spilling hot coffee on him. He was invading my personal space, something no man has ever dared to do, not even Shyam. Why would I allow Vikram Singh Grover such liberties? I had warned him not to bother me, yet he's always ready to pin me with his gaze or his arms. Before I can assist Daadi with the ice cubes, Vikram strides out of the kitchen.
“Shyam,” Daadi says, trying to mask her nervousness. “Please have a seat. I'll be back after tending to his wounds.”
“No problem, Daadi. I'll wait.”
As Daadi leaves, Shyam and I head to the living room.
“When did he arrive?” Shyam asks.
“Yesterday.”
“He seems to have quite a temper. Tell me honestly, did you spill that coffee on him?”
The words catch in my throat. “I did,” I admit, unable to lie to Shyam or anyone else. I’m not very good at lying.
“I thought so,” he exhales. “And that's because he threw your phone?”
“Right.”
“Maahi, I understand he damaged your phone, but it's just a phone. You can always replace it. But you can't physically harm someone. Those burns on his chest looked severe.”
Guilt washes over me. I'm not the one to inflict such pain on others. “I'll apologize to him. I know I have to.”
“That's my girl,” he says, pinching my cheeks.