Krish
As Ayaan and I finalised the last details of our security plans for tonight’s event, my phone buzzed in my pocket. Ignoring the distraction, I continued speaking, but curiosity gnawed at me. And I couldn’t resist any longer and checked the notification.
Glancing at the screen, I saw a message from Trisha: “I’m sorry.”
My heart skipped a beat. Why was Trisha apologising? I quickly scanned the room to see if she was around, ensuring Ayaan hadn’t noticed my distraction, before returning the phone to the table.
Questions flooded my mind. Was Trisha here?
Yesterday, when I followed her and even admitted to feeling jealous upon seeing her with another man (Yug), I realised that I had made a huge mistake by revealing to Trisha that my feelings for her still lingered.
But what prompted her sudden apology now?
In fact, I should be apologising for still interfering in her personal life.
Shaking off my thoughts, I refocused on the conversation with Ayaan.
I would deal with Trisha’s apology later. Right now, we had a job to do.
**************
As I approached the car late evening, ready to leave for the event, my gaze immediately locked onto Trisha, who was already seated in the front passenger seat, looking absolutely stunning in a tight black button-down shirt that hugged her curves in all the right places, sleeves rolled up to her elbows.
She had paired it with a pair of equally form-fitting black jeans, a gun holster strapped snugly around her waist.
Even after all this time, Trisha had the power to make my pulse race and my body harden with wanton desire. That woman could dress up a gunny sack and still look like a goddess.
I had intended to talk to her about the apologetic text message she had sent me the today, but as I approached the car, Meher had already climbed into the backseat. With Ayaan sure to occupy the spot next to his wife, the only place left for me was the driver’s seat.
Not that I was complaining. Any opportunity to be near Trisha, even if it meant maintaining a professional distance, was better than nothing.
Just as I was about to slide into the driver’s seat, Ayaan called out to me.
“Krish, you’re coming with Dad and Bhaskar uncle in their car, right?”
I quickly formulated an excuse.
“One guard is needed in that car, so Alex will be escorting them. I’ll be driving this one.”
Ayaan shrugged, but I caught a subtle glimmer of suspicion in his eyes as I settled behind the wheel. I couldn’t blame him—my sudden insistence on driving this particular car was hardly inconspicuous. I gestured for Alex to drive with the elders, started the engine, and pulled out.
I glanced at Trisha from the corner of my eye.
She was gazing out the window, her expression unreadable.
I desperately wanted to broach the subject of the apologetic text she had sent me, to understand where her head and her heart were at.
But the presence of Ayaan and Meher in the backseat had effectively thwarted any chance of a private conversation.
Worse still, Ayaan and Meher seemed to be in a passionate mood after some time, their stolen kisses filling the car.
I couldn’t help but glance at Trisha from the corner of my eye, wondering how she was coping with the intimate display.
She had witnessed their kiss, too, and the look in her eyes told me that she was reminded of our scorching kisses.
Trisha’s eyes sparkled as she met my gaze, but she quickly looked away, not letting that spark blaze.
I immediately cleared my throat to interrupt Ayaan and Meher’s cosy act behind.
“Guys, you know I don’t mind what you’re doing in the backseat, but we have another lady here amongst us,” I quipped, unable to resist the urge to break the tension.
“I don’t mind that either. Please don’t speak on my behalf,” Trisha replied, almost scolding me for interrupting them.
Ayaan pulled away from Meher, grinning at me through the rearview mirror. “See, the lady doesn’t mind,” he said, nodding towards Trisha. “But why do you look so uncomfortable, Krish?”
I gripped the steering wheel tighter, trying to tamp down the flicker of jealousy that had ignited within me.
“Well, that’s because you get to sit in the backseat, and I don’t,” I retorted.
“I never said I wanted to sit here. I was okay with driving. It was you who said you wanted to drive,” Ayaan countered.
“Well, that’s because Meher had already taken the backseat,” I argued. The truth was, I wanted sit next to Trisha, to bask in her presence, even if I couldn’t bring myself to touch her.
Ayaan’s tone took on a teasing lilt. “Or... was it because Trisha had already taken the front passenger seat? And you thought of impressing her with your driving skills?”
I glowered at him through the rearview mirror, feeling Trisha’s gaze dart towards me before she quickly looked away, a faint blush tinging her cheeks. Meher noticed the exchange, nudging Ayaan with a knowing smile.
Desperate to change the subject, I announced, “We’re approaching the venue.”
As I pulled up to the curb, I took a deep, steadying breath. This was going to be a long, difficult evening, with Trisha’s intoxicating presence mere inches away, yet so unbearably out of reach.
I just hoped I could keep my emotions in check and maintain my professionalism. Because the last thing I needed was for my heart to betray me in front of everyone.
*************
A while later…
As Ayaan and I had feared, the NEP party event turned out to be a trap—a ploy orchestrated by Tej Khurana to reveal himself to Ayaan and demand that he abandon the Shergills and Walias to join his criminal empire instead.
The nerve of that man! When Ayaan refused, outright rejecting Tej’s twisted demands, he managed to target a short circuit, plunging the Shergill Mansion into darkness.
I had driven Meher, Kailash uncle and Trisha back from the event to the mansion, and we had just got out of the car when the short circuit happened at the monitoring room of the Ayaan’s home, and the power went out.
Our security teams immediately sprang into action, working to secure the premises and ensure there were no further risks to the family’s safety.
Ayaan and I, however, had a contingency plan in place—a safe house located in the outskirts of Mumbai, roughly 30 kilometres from the city. It was one of the many secure facilities maintained by GLEN, our organisation, for situations just like this.
As the teams handled the situation at the mansion, I remained inside, frantically trying to recover any salvageable data and devices from the monitoring room.
The heat and smoke from the short circuit had taken a toll, giving bruises to my arm as I fought to extinguish the small flames consuming the critical hardware.
I coughed incessantly, the harsh fumes stinging my lungs, when a familiar touch suddenly grasped my hand, pulling me away from the chaos.
Blinking through the haze, I found Trisha at my side, her eyes filled with a mix of worry and concern.
She handed me a water bottle, and I immediately gulped some water down, to soothe my raw throat.
“Thanks.”
“Better?” Trisha asked, taking the bottle back, her gaze sweeping over me. I acknowledged with a nod. “The team is handling the stuff. Why are you still in there? And without a mask, no less. How would the smoke not affect you? Stop being so careless, Krish.”
She obviously cared for my well-being. I’d rarely seen Trisha’s fiercely protective side for me, and it felt good.
“Why did you send me that text?” I finally asked, ignoring the timing.
Trisha’s eyes softened.
“We can talk about that later. Right now, you need to tend to these bruises. Come on, let’s get you checked out, Director.”
Before I could protest, she was leading me away from the billowing smoke, guiding me towards the waiting medical team. I knew I should have argued and insisted on staying to oversee the operation, but in that moment, I was utterly powerless to resist Trisha’s care and concern.
Once the medics had tended to my minor injuries, Trisha and I joined Ayaan, Meher, and Kailash uncle in preparing to leave for the safe house.
As I settled behind the wheel again, with Trisha sliding into the passenger seat beside me, I couldn’t help smiling back at her.
I wished things between us were not bitter.
But I knew that was a foolish hope. The pull I felt towards Trisha was as strong as ever, the desire to reach out and touch her, to simply be near her, nearly overwhelming.
Yet I knew I couldn’t act on those impulses until she didn’t want the same.
So, I kept my focus firmly on the road ahead, determined to get us to the safe house first. For now, the priority was the safety of the Shergill family, and I couldn’t afford to let my own personal demons distract me from that.
*****************
We arrived at the safe house. It had a cosy living room, a basic kitchenette, and two bedrooms on the ground level, with a terrace and a small gym room situated upstairs.
My team quickly secured the premises, and we all settled inside.
Kailash and Bhaskar uncle took one of the bedrooms, while Ayaan insisted that Trisha and Meher take the other, leaving Ayaan and me to bunk down on the small living room couch.
But just as Ayaan said that, Trisha spoke up. “You and Meher take the bedroom. Krish and I will be fine here on the couch.”
I was stunned, my gaze immediately snapping to Trisha. Was she truly suggesting that we share the sofa? The prospect thrilled me.
Ayaan seemed equally perplexed, hesitating to accept Trisha’s offer. “But—”
“Trisha is just doing her job, buddy,” I interjected, surprising even myself with my eagerness to back up her proposal.
Trisha shot me a grateful look before addressing Ayaan again. “The Boss agrees. Sofa it is for me and him.”
With some reluctance, Ayaan and Meher finally agreed, retiring to the bedroom and leaving Trisha and me alone in the small living area.
An awkward silence settled between us as we busied ourselves with arranging the couch for the night.
As I brewed the coffee in the small kitchenette next to the living room, I couldn’t help but steal glances at Trisha.
She had just unbuckled her gun holster and put it aside.
She then let her hair down from the ponytail and unleashed her beautiful curls.
I was instantly mesmerised. Trisha made her way to the washroom, and emerged a few minutes later, dabbing her face to alleviate any signs of exhaustion.
Unable to resist, I offered her a freshly brewed cup of coffee.
“Umm. I missed your coffee,” she said, sipping the coffee, her eyes widening as if surprised by her own words.
The memory of our time in Singapore flooded back—the mornings we spent together, me brewing the perfect cup of coffee for us, adding that extra touch of cocoa powder on top.
Those were some of the happiest moments I’d ever experienced.
Trisha quickly averted her eyes, trying to walk away, but I gently held her hand, stopping her.
“What else did you miss?” I asked, my heart racing.
The pain on Trisha’s face was noticeable, but she hid it effectively. She looked down, and I took the opportunity to continue. “At least tell me why you apologised, so I can rest in peace.”
“Stop talking like that, Krish. I don’t like it,” she said, hitting my chest gently, her eyes now filled with anger.
“Your list of ‘don’t like’ is getting longer day by day,” I replied with a smirk. “You don’t like me following you, you don’t like me showing affection towards you, you don’t like me getting close to you, and most importantly, the first one on the list... you don’t like me at all.”
“Did I ever say that?” she frowned. “Stop putting words in my mouth.”
“Not my fault. I like feeding you,” I winked, the tension between us heightened. Realising the double meaning of my words, I quickly clarified, “I mean, there were times when I fed you food in Singapore. Remember?”
Trisha rolled her eyes. “I should have let you and Ayaan sleep together tonight. I was better with Meher inside.”
She sipped her coffee and settled down on the couch, pretending to frown. I sat down beside her, snatching the coffee mug from her hand, and taking a sip. She didn’t mind.
“So? Why did you send that text to me?” I asked again, the seriousness returning to her expression.
“I had to apologise to you for everything, right?” she queried. “I broke your heart.”
“And you think an apology can fix it?
“You’ll get the closure you need, at least. Move on, Krish,” she argued.
“Have you?” I probed, putting the coffee mug away.
“Krish, don’t do this. Please. You know we two have no future together.”
“Says who?”
“Your father,” she blurted out, and my heart skipped a beat.
My father! What did my father have to do with this? The way Trisha’s own expression changed, it was clear that she hadn’t meant to reveal that information. There was more to this than she was letting on, and I was determined to get to the bottom of it.