CHAPTER 19
SIMRAN
I sit in the living room, the faint glow of my laptop the only light in the darkness, matching the tumultuous thoughts racing through my mind. The screen blurs as tears threaten to spill—tears of frustration, of helplessness, of sheer exhaustion. Julie’s latest email shows the mounting chaos in my carefully structured business: cancelled appointments, rescheduled meetings, disappointed clients. All because of a wedding I never agreed to, happening in a timeframe I never chose.
The cursor blinks, waiting for me to finalise the last email and reschedule yet another client meeting. My chest tightens at the thought of the discontent my sudden cancellations have stirred among my customers. My boutique thrives on personal connections and impeccable timing, and here I am, letting it all crumble under the weight of someone else’s decisions—his decisions.
I run a hand through my hair, trying to suppress the frustration bubbling inside me. It’s all happening so fast. The wedding. The impending trip to India. And amidst all of this, there’s him . Vishnu. The man who has turned my life upside down, ignored my concerns, and bulldozed over my every attempt to make sense of this chaos. Tears prick my eyes before I can stop them, and I quickly swipe them away.
I thought, at least, Pratap Walia would understand. I foolishly hoped a father figure would see things from my perspective, that he would talk some sense into his son about the absurdity of rushing into marriage. But instead, he became just another voice pushing me into a corner, another force expecting me to simply fall in line with their plans.
Is this what marriage to him is going to be like? Is this the life awaiting me—a constant battle where my voice is drowned out by his decisions? The thought unsettles me.
Just then, the sound of the door opening startles me, pulling me out of my thoughts. Vishnu and his father step inside, both dressed formally, and my heart skips a beat. Is Vishnu’s father leaving now? Nobody told me. But, of course, why would they? My opinions, my feelings, seem to hold little value in the Walia world.
I set my laptop aside and stand up, my legs slightly shaky. Pratap Walia approaches me, and suddenly, I’m overwhelmed by the reality—this man will be my father-in-law in merely a few days. The thought sends a wave of anxiety through me. I’ve never had a close-knit family, never learned the complications of relationships that others seem to handle so effortlessly. My parents’ early departure left me to figure out life alone, and now I’m expected to seamlessly blend into a large, prominent joint family.
“You’re leaving?” I manage to ask, my voice more tentative than I’d like.
Pratap Walia nods. “Yes. My time here is up. But I couldn’t leave without speaking to you first.”
My heart skips at his words. What does he want to say?
He stops in front of me, his expression softening slightly as he reaches up and removes a gold chain from around his neck. My breath hitches as he holds it out to me.
“This is for Veer,” he says, his voice gentler than I expected. “My grandson.”
I hesitate, glancing toward Vishnu for some kind of validation. He nods, and I reluctantly reach out to take the chain with trembling hands. It feels heavy in my hand, not just because of its weight, but because of what it symbolises—an acknowledgement of Veer, of me, of the ties that now bind us all together.
“Thank you,” I say quietly, unsure of what else to add.
Pratap Walia studies me for a moment, then pats my cheek with a surprising tenderness.
“I know you have your reservations about my son,” he continues. “About this marriage and how it will change your life. But let me tell you something—a life partner like Vishnu is rare. His loyalty, his protectiveness towards his family—these aren’t just traits; they’re his essence. He has never disappointed any relation, and he won’t disappoint you either.”
I remain silent, the words stuck in my throat. What can I say to this man who sees his son as perfect, who doesn’t understand the depth of my fears?
His hand is warm as he again pats my cheek in a fatherly gesture that makes my heart ache. Then, he takes my hand—cold and trembling—and places it in Vishnu’s larger, warmer one. The contact sends shivers down my spine.
“Take care of her, Vishnu,” he says, looking directly at his son. “And forgive her. That’s what we do when we care for someone. When you care for someone, forgiveness isn’t just a choice—it’s a necessity. I forgave your mother, too, and I’ve never regretted it because it’s simply impossible to hold onto grudges against the woman you love forever. Yes, the past will always be there. Those memories won’t fade, but they shouldn’t hold you back from embracing the future. It’s time to move forward.”
My hand goes limp in Vishnu’s grip. But Vishnu’s fingers tighten, refusing to let go, refusing to let me retreat. His father smiles softly, wrapping both our hands in his, giving us his blessing.
He smiles again as his gaze lingers on our joined hands before he steps back.
“There’s a whole beautiful life waiting for the two of you,” he says. “Don’t let it go to waste.”
With that, he turns and heads toward the door, leaving us standing there in a silence that feels heavier than anything I’ve ever experienced. I don’t know how long Vishnu and I stare at each other. Finally, the sound of Veer’s soft cries fills the air, jolting me back to reality.
It’s like a lifeline thrown to a drowning woman. I pull away from Vishnu’s grip, perhaps too forcefully, and hurry toward my son’s cries. Behind me, I hear Vishnu’s deep voice telling me he is going to drop his father to the airport.
****************
Next Day – Simran’s Boutique
I push open the glass doors of my boutique, already mentally preparing for the busy day ahead. But before I step inside, Julie’s bright face and excited squeal catch me off guard.
“Congratulations!” she practically bounces towards me, her blonde curls dancing with enthusiasm.
“For what?” I ask, adjusting my bag on my shoulder.
“The wedding, of course! You and Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Brooding getting married in two weeks! I mean, hello?” Her eyes sparkle with excitement.
My heart stops.
“How did you...?”
“Peter told everyone! The whole circle knows. We’ve been drowning in bouquets and gifts since yesterday.” She gestures to my office, where I can already see an explosion of flowers.
My mind races to that day—Vishnu’s jealous outburst, his territorial claim in front of Peter. Of course, Peter would spread the news. I close my eyes briefly, remembering how Vishnu’s eyes had blazed with possessiveness when he thought Peter was flirting with me. I should have known Vishnu’s public claim would come back to bite me, and here it is—spreading like wildfire. All because he couldn’t keep his jealousy in check.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to keep my composure.
“The gifts...” Julie’s voice brings me back to the present. “Should we open them now, or...?”
“Later,” I manage to reply, my mind still elsewhere. “Remind me to thank everyone, though.” I head toward my cabin, Julie trailing behind with her tablet, rattling off today’s schedule.
The guards—Abhay and his team—take their positions outside my office. I haven’t seen Vishnu since he left this morning to drop his father at the airport. The thought of him makes my stomach flutter inexplicably, especially recalling how Vishnu’s grip had tightened around my hand when his father insisted he should forgive me and that we should move on to the next chapter of our lives. I don’t know if he would do that so easily, and even if he did, would it be only because his father said so? I shake my head. There’s no time for such thoughts right now.
“Get the team ready for a meeting in twenty minutes,” I tell Julie, trying to focus on my work. “We need to discuss the new projects.”
She nods but lingers at the door, biting her lip mischievously. “Just one question...”
“Hmm?” I begin booting up my laptop, not bothering to look up.
“Where did you find that handsome hunk? That species seems rare—hot, virile, and broody, with a body that could melt a nun’s resolve...”
Heat rushes to my face. Julie might be my assistant, but over the years, she’s also become a close friend. Still, hearing her describe Vishnu like that stirs something possessive in my chest. Because she’s right—he is all those things and more. Every inch of that magnificent body, that complex heart, that brilliant mind... they’re mine. Or they will be, officially, in two weeks.
“Seriously, he’s like an action hero come to life,” she adds, sighing dramatically. “Do you even realise the envy you’re about to unleash when he puts a ring on your finger?”
My cheeks burn hotter as Julie’s words hit me, triggering a flood of memories—of Vishnu’s intense gaze, his broad shoulders, his rough hands, his hot mouth on my skin, and his maddening ability to take charge. But I snap myself out of it.
“Excuse me?” I manage to squeak out.
Julie giggles. “I’m just saying. You’re one lucky woman. You should be proud of landing someone like him—a total eye candy.”
“Oh, stop it,” I retort. The blush deepens across my cheeks. “Get out before I fire you for talking about my fiancé like that!” I try to sound stern but fail miserably.
Her laughter echoes as she leaves, but I freeze, processing my own words. Did I just say ‘fiancé’ ? When did I start thinking of him that way?
My mind and heart are still at war—wanting more time, craving his forgiveness, hoping for a fresh start before we get married. But my body... my body remembers. It remembers and still craves for the heat of his touch. One look from those dark eyes is all it takes to transport me back to that night and remind me why I fell so hard in the first place.
The woman I used to be—the Simran who flirted shamelessly, who was confident and carefree—is battling with the woman I’ve become. Yet, some things never change, I think absently, touching my still warm cheeks. And maybe, just maybe, that’s not such a bad thing after all.
**************
Just then, Claire sends me a photo on my WhatsApp of Vishnu feeding Veer his meal, and it completely shifts my focus. I can’t stop admiring the man who has taken up the role of a father so easily. Additionally, Vishnu in black always hits different. And that’s what he’s wearing today—a simple black t-shirt and sky-blue rugged denims clinging to his sexy bottom!
Giving those butterflies in my stomach a little break, I step out of my cabin at noon, glancing at my watch as I gather my things to leave with my team for the client meeting. It’s a high-stakes discussion, one that could significantly boost our reputation if handled well.
As I walk toward the exit, Abhay steps in front of me like a human wall, his expression already telling me something’s wrong.
“Where are you going?” he asks.
“To meet a client,” I reply, adjusting my bag on my shoulder.
“This wasn’t on today’s agenda,” he says firmly. “It hasn’t been approved by Vishnu.”
“Come on, Abhay,” I say, trying to keep my frustration in check. “It’s a last-minute change. The client knows I wasn’t initially supposed to come—it was just going to be my team. But I think it’ll leave a better impression if I attend personally.”
His face remains impassive.
“Not approved. If you want to meet this client, you need to provide all location details and client information beforehand. We can make it happen tomorrow, but today is absolutely out of the question. Keeping you safe is my responsibility.”
I feel the fight drain out of me. There’s no point arguing—Abhay would never go against Vishnu’s orders. With a resigned sigh, I turn to my team.
“Go ahead without me. I’ll connect with the client over the phone.”
As my team files out, I cross my arms and face Abhay, frustration bubbling up inside me.
“If this is how it’s going to be, then I don’t understand why Vishnu even allowed me to work from the boutique. He could have just kept me locked up at home.”
“I had actually told him that,” he admits, and I feel my eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “But he refused. He said he didn’t want to cage you or make you feel more insecure. He knows how much you love your work, how committed you are to it. His exact words were that he didn’t want to clip your wings. Instead, he asked me to double the security so you could run your business with ease.”
I feel something catch in my throat. “He... he actually said that?” The words come out barely above a whisper.
“You didn’t believe he could?” Abhay’s question is gentle but pointed.
I shrug, struggling to process this new information about the man I’m still trying to understand. Words fail me completely.
“I’ve known Vishnu for more than a decade,” Abhay continues, his voice taking on a thoughtful tone. “He’s not someone who easily opens up about his feelings, not even to those closest to him. But his actions...” he pauses meaningfully. “His actions always speak louder than his words.”
That catches me off guard. Vishnu, who refuses to compromise on anything, actually thought about me? Cared enough to ensure I could still work without feeling suffocated? This little heart-to-heart with Abhay warms something inside me.
“Thank you for telling me, Abhay. And Vishnu is lucky to have you,” I say softly. “And a team like yours.”
A small smile touches Abhay’s usually stoic face.
“The feeling is mutual,” he replies.
I glance back at my office, my mind already shifting back to the work waiting for me.
“I’ll be done in two hours. Then we can head home.”
He gives me a professional nod and turns to leave, but I remain standing there for a moment longer, my thoughts lingering on Vishnu’s words about not wanting to clip my wings. Perhaps there are more layers to him than I’d imagined, depths I’m only now beginning to understand.
**************
Two Hours Later
The exhaustion of rescheduling work, the pressure of the wedding, and the overwhelming chaos of my emotions have left me drained. I’m gathering my things, ready to call it a day, when Julie’s voice stops me.
“Simran, don’t forget to check the bouquets and gifts before you leave,” she reminds me with a bright smile.
I sigh, nodding. “Fine, let me look at it quickly.”
As Julie leaves, I walk around to the other side of my desk, where the neatly arranged gifts await me. The sweet fragrance of flowers fills my nostrils as I examine the thoughtful presents from friends and clients, all celebrating my upcoming wedding.
The word ‘wedding’ sends my heart into a familiar flutter, but I push the feeling aside, focusing on the task at hand. The warmth of the well-wishes fills me with gratitude, but it’s bittersweet. These people are congratulating me on a marriage that I’m still struggling to accept.
My fingers trail over various packages until they stop at a peculiar one. It’s wrapped elegantly in plain brown paper, but what catches my attention is the simple initial ‘Z’ on the card—nothing else. No name, no message. There’s something about it that makes my skin prickle, I push the feeling aside, dismissing it as mere paranoia.
I carefully begin to unwrap the package. The moment I unfold what’s inside, my breath catches in my throat, and my hands freeze. Inside is a white scarf, its fabric stained with splotches of dried blood. My eyes zero in on the ominous words written across it: My eyes will always be on you.
The realisation hits me like a physical blow—it’s from him, the masked man.
A scream rips from my throat as I stumble backwards, the scarf slipping from my fingers. I bolt from my cabin, blind with fear, only to crash into something solid and warm. It takes a moment to register that it’s Vishnu, his strong arms catching me before I hit the ground.
The relief that floods through me is immediate, but it doesn’t stop my violent trembling.
“Simran, what happened?” His eyes, dark with concern and barely contained rage, search my face.
“The... the gift,” I stammer, my words coming out in frightened gasps as I point towards my cabin door. “I opened... blood... there’s blood on it...” My fingers clutch at his shirt desperately. “It’s from him!”
Abhay is already moving, rushing into my cabin to check the package. I try to turn my head toward my cabin, but Vishnu’s hands on my face keep me focused on him.
“Veer,” I suddenly gasp, terror striking afresh. “Please, check on Veer!”
“Veer is safe,” Vishnu assures me. “He and Claire are under my guards’ supervision. Nothing will happen to them. Look at me, Simran. Focus on me.”
I cling to his shirt, my body shaking uncontrollably. The horrifying image of the bloodstained scarf keeps flashing in my mind. From the corner of my eye, I see Abhay emerging from my cabin, holding something that makes Vishnu’s body tense. But before I can turn to fully see what it is, Vishnu pulls me closer, forcing my attention back to his face.
“Don’t,” he says softly. “You don’t need to see it again. We’re going home,” he declares, his tone brooking no argument.
My fingers twist into his shirt, my body wracked with uncontrollable tremors. Without warning, he pulls me into his arms, cradling me against his chest. I seek refuge in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The gesture, both protective and possessive, makes me burrow deeper into his embrace.
Abhay follows us as we move toward the elevator, our security team forming a protective circle around us.
“Were the gifts checked before they were brought to her cabin?” Vishnu’s voice rumbles above my head, cold with barely contained rage.
“They were thoroughly screened for weapons and threats,” Abhay responds. “A scarf like this didn’t trigger any alerts. It appeared harmless. No weapons, no explosives...”
Vishnu’s arms tighten around me at Abhay’s words, and I flinch. I can feel the anger simmering inside him, though he’s doing his best to keep it under control for my sake.
The elevator doors slide open, and Vishnu steps in, keeping me firmly against his chest.
“Nothing is harmless when it comes to Simran,” Vishnu snaps. “I don’t care if it’s a scarf or a damn paperclip. From now on, every single item that goes near her needs to be checked thoroughly, and then again, if required. No exceptions.”
Abhay nods, his voice calm but firm. “Understood.”
“You’re safe now,” Vishnu murmurs, his voice softer, meant only for me. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
The conviction in his words is almost enough to make me believe him, to drown out the images of that bloodstained scarf and the chilling message written on it. Almost. But I know this night is far from over—not for him, not for me. And knowing Vishnu, I can tell that his mind is already working, planning his next move to protect me.