CHAPTER 19 #2
That was why he was here in the dimly lit gym.
He stood before the heavy punching bag, wearing a black sleeveless training vest that clung to his broad chest and shoulders, and dark workout shorts that hung low on his hips.
He had not bothered with hand wraps or gloves because he had not come here to train. He had come here to unload.
Every time his fist connected with the bag in a solid, brutal strike, the bag swung back toward him, and he hit it again, harder each time.
Yet, he couldn’t stop Mishti’s voice from resurfacing in his mind again and again.
“My mother used to do this for my dad whenever he came home exhausted.”
He drove his fist into the bag again, hitting it harder than before.
“You married a Goel, Karan.”
The bag swung back, and he met it with another punch, his knuckles stinging faintly now, the skin already protesting under the repeated impact. But he didn’t care.
“You cannot crush my real identity. I am a Goel, and I will not tolerate anyone, not even my husband, disrespecting my parents.”
Each punch was fuelled by memory and anger. The skin of his knuckles split just enough to burn and bruise. But he still did not stop. Only when his breath turned rough and his arms began to tremble from exertion, did he finally slow, stepping back as the bag continued to sway in front of him.
Karan stood there, chest rising and falling heavily, sweat running down his temples and spine. He knew Mishti would not let this go.
For the first time, he had not just snapped at her or shut her down. He had shown her the depth of his hatred toward her family. And Mishti was not a woman who ignored signs like that.
She would question it. She would revisit every word, every reaction, every flash of anger and start looking for answers, relentlessly.
Damn! He could not let it happen.
She should not know the truth yet. Not until his revenge had moved far enough that nothing could derail it.
He wiped the sweat from his face, staring at the punching bag again. Whatever softness he had begun to feel for Mishti had no place in this plan. And he would make sure it stayed that way.
***************
Next Day
The next morning, Mishti finished her puja in the small home temple. She had a restless sleep last night, interrupted by the memory of Karan’s rage and the way he had spoken about her late parents.
Respecting the boundaries of a marriage was one thing. But allowing her husband to insult her parents was something she would never accept. No matter how complicated their relationship was, no matter how strained their marriage had become, she would not tolerate that kind of cruelty.
How could a man be so stone-hearted that he did not hesitate to disrespect people who were no longer alive, people who could no longer defend themselves?
People who had done nothing to him. Her parents were gone, and yet he had spoken of them with such venom, as though they were still standing before him, deserving of his hatred.
With that sour thought, she stepped out of the temple and made her way toward the kitchen, intending to check on breakfast. She had barely taken a few steps when she saw Karan, fully dressed for work, walking in the direction of the kitchen before her.
She slowed instinctively.
He never stepped into the kitchen. Not once since she had come to live here. The space was Maria’s domain, and Karan rarely crossed into it unless absolutely necessary. Why was he going there now?
Was he looking for her?
Before she could decide whether to step forward or retreat, Karan entered the kitchen. Acting on impulse, Mishti moved quietly to the kitchen door, keeping herself out of sight, close enough to hear but unseen.
Inside, Maria stood alone near the counter. The moment she saw Karan, she straightened.
“Good morning, Sir,” she greeted him, her tone however missing the usual warmth she carried.
The events of the previous night had left their mark. Karan had lashed out at her too, forgetting for a moment that she had served this household faithfully for years.
“Do you need anything?” she asked gently again. “Tea or breakfast before you leave?”
Karan shook his head and stepped further inside.
“No. I don’t need anything.”
He paused briefly before meeting her eyes.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you last night, Maria,” he said. “And I never want you to leave this house.”
Mishti, who watched from where she stood, was happy, but stunned. She had rarely seen Karan speak so nicely to anyone. Although he did not say the words ‘I am sorry’, directly, but even then, his apology to Maria was full of true emotions.
“It’s alright, Sir,” Maria said quietly, nodding at him.
“I did not take it to heart. I know when words come from anger and not from intention. I have lived in this house for many years now. I have looked after it as my own, never felt like an outsider here. This family has become my family. My only family.”
She swallowed, her eyes lowering.
“If you ever truly asked me to leave,” she added, “I would be left alone all over again.”
Karan stepped closer and took her trembling hands in his.
“I know what it means to be alone, Maria. I would never put that on you. Forgive me for last night.”
Relief washed over Maria’s face. Her shoulders finally eased as she nodded.
Karan then released her hands, stepping back.
“How’s your headache now?” she asked.
“It’s fine. I’m leaving for work. Have no time for breakfast today.”
Maria nodded, accepting it without protest.
The moment Karan turned around to leave, he saw Mishti standing at the kitchen doorway. There was no mistaking it. She had heard everything. But he just shot her a sharp look, and then strode past her without a word.
He had barely entered the living room when he heard her footsteps behind him.
“I guess just like your memory,” she said from behind, “your apologies are selective too?”
Karan stopped.
He did not turn around because by the time he halted, she had already moved ahead of him and stood facing him. Her eyes met his without hesitation.
“I am glad you apologised to Maria,” she continued. “She did not deserve what you said to her. But you do not have anything to say to me?” she asked.
His jaw clenched visibly, realising she had been standing up to him far more these days, refusing to absorb his anger, his cruelty, or his outbursts in silence.
He took a step toward her.
“I thought you would have packed your bags and left by now,” he said flatly.
For a moment, she simply stared at him in disbelief. Then she stepped closer in fury, closing the distance this time, forcing him to look at her.
“I am going nowhere,” she said. “Not until I find out why you hate my family so much.”
For the first time, her words and actions made Karan swallow. He was unsure if it was anger or the way she had stepped closer to him, forcing him to retreat a fraction.
“And remember one thing, Mr Karan Wadhwa,” she continued. “The day I leave this house, I will never come back. Not even if you beg me to return.”
That stunned him.
Beg?
Him?
Had she lost her mind? But before he could respond something cruel enough to put her back in her place, she denied him the chance.
Without waiting for his response, Mishti turned around and walked back toward the kitchen, leaving him standing alone.
For a moment, he only stared after her, unable to believe that she had just walked away from him. From Karan Wadhwa!!
He almost wanted to follow her, grab her by the waist, pin her against the corridor wall, and remind her exactly who she was dealing with.
The visuals of him doing all this almost flared hot and immediate, but before he could act on it, Abhimanyu descended from the staircase.
He was already dressed for work and glancing at his watch.
“The clients are on their way to KW Capital, Bro,” he said. “We should leave now.”
Karan nodded once, forcing his expression back into control. He would deal with his wife later. Right now, he had work to handle. With that, the brothers walked out together, heading toward the car to start their day with business as usual.