Chapter 42
FORTY-TWO
Advik
I find myself uncontrollably lost in my Greesha. Staring into her eyes that seem to capture my soul the way she always has. Years haven’t dulled that gaze—not even a little.
I bury myself into her neck, kissing the column of her throat.
But there’s a shift that happens. Her whole body clenched tight in a way that I’ve never experienced. I lean away and watch her eyes glaze over like she isn’t here anymore.
I freeze.
Watching pleasure slowly fading in her eyes. And I realize she’s not with me right now.
“It’s me,” I manage to whisper.
Even though she is looking at me, I notice how her gaze starts to slowly gleam with recognition.
“It’s me,” I croak again, smiling down at her beautiful face.
Then it’s just us. Stripped bare of our past and relishing in the present. Something I imagine we need. Especially her.
My Greesha.
My warrior ghost.
I feel her hands softly claw at my back, pulling me closer. So I take her mouth again, kissing her with a frenzy I didn’t know I possessed.
I trace my lips over the jagged scar between her breasts. It probably holds a memory too painful that my eyes sting. But I worship her new scars that mar her beautiful skin. Scars that send a devastating pang of sorrow through me, but I know she wears them with dignity.
I’m so unbelievably grateful that she doesn’t shy away when I kiss them, lick them. Learn them.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I say reverently, my hands skimming a tattoo on her collarbone.
She has so many tattoos now. Several hidden ones. Some of them, I can’t understand the meaning of. While others clearly indicate her fierceness—resilience.
“I’m scarred, Vik,” she says with a hint of sadness.
I shake my head leaning back down to the crook of her neck. “You’re magnificent, my Greesha.”
A broken sob escapes her, that quickly turns into a moan when my thrusts becomes more frantic.
“Oh god, Vik,” she gasps. “More, more, more...”
I keep my pace the same, knowing she’s getting closer to her release that I desperately need. I want her to pulse around my cock, feel the satiated tremble in her thighs that are wrapped around me.
“Get there, baby,” I grunt. “Let me get you there.”
She nods absentmindedly against my head. I don’t stop my chants. The quiet whispers that echo the love I’ve been trying to hold in for so long.
Then she unravels, her whole frame quivering through that delicious moan. A soft whimper that ends with my name.
Even as her tremors fade, I swallow her sighs with my lips. I pump into her. Once. Twice.
Feeling her walls still tightening around me, I come with a groan. I spill into her—my kiss almost claiming.
A few minutes later, her breathing evens. We don’t exchange more words. And I start to recognize this as a farewell—maybe even absolution. But that doesn’t stop me from taking her in.
My hands never stop wandering, learning the jagged edges of her raised skin—after she unmindfully falls asleep in my arms.
Even if I think that they might forever remain a mere memory in my head, I still need it.
When my fingers softly trace a tattoo on her breastbone, I wonder if I’ll ever get a chance to actually ask her about the tattoos.
Still, the night is seared in my heart. It doesn’t matter if that was it. For the first time, I won’t let my actions dictate her life. What she wants—she gets.
And since she wanted me tonight—she fucking got me.
??????
“You’re saying you learned about Khushi Joshi’s death... but how?” Anil says.
He’s sticking to the script and I appreciate that.
The rooftop bar isn’t fancy, but it helps that I have a good vantage point. I can’t see any of those marksmen Viraj has positioned. But I know Greesha is close by. She mentioned being at most twenty feet away at any given point.
“Well.” I clear my throat and shrug. “Khushi’s name is important to me. I had a sister named Khushi. It was sentimental so... I kept track of Khushi Joshi. That’s the only reason I found out that she was supposedly on a cruise. And then... I connected the dots after finding her death certificate.”
Anil nods thoughtfully. I have a feeling he isn’t acting. Most of this is news to him. It’s a shame he won’t be doing anything concrete about it. We already have Viraj and Greesha on it.
It’s been almost eighteen minutes. I don’t think I can afford to be here longer than twenty.
I shift in my seat uncomfortably. Sweat dripping down my back—and I know it’s not because of the Delhi heat. “That’s... all I know.”
I’ve told him all the things I’m supposed to—albeit unsubstantiated. But I’ve named Mehul Bedi and our new contract at least three times. His people should be listening. I’m desperately hoping they are.
After a full minute of wrapping things up and bogus claims of meeting again, I finally stand. Giving Anil a firm handshake.
I can feel eyes on me. And I have no clue whether it’s because of Greesha or Mehul’s men.
The ten minute walk through the Hauz Khas Village to get to the parking lot is uneventful. But the feeling of being watched doesn’t go away.
No one has ever assassinated a random 9-to-5 man in broad daylight in HKV, right? I don’t think so.
Fuck. My nerves are shot when I located my car in the distance. The urge to run to the safety of it, is overwhelming but I don’t want to seem overly wary.
A little wary? Yes. Because the right amount is important. After all, I’m ratting out a trafficking kingpin.
On my drive back home, I notice a motorcycle in my rear view mirror. And I instantly know it’s my Greesha. I didn’t see her following me in the morning. Probably because I was freaking the fuck out and focused on the following the exact route Viraj had given me.
I’m slightly more relaxed now.
She disappears three minutes before I’m about to reach home—assuming it’s a tactic.
The moment I enter my apartment, I’m prepared to wait for Gree. But then I see her. She got here before me. Standing in the living room, nearly breathless. Eyes flashing with what looks like a mix of fear and relief.
A smile takes over my face before I shrug. “Well, that was easy.”
She groans softly, shaking her head. Before I know it, she’s in my arms. Legs wrapped around my waist. My hands instinctively catching her.
The leather jacket squeaking slightly beneath my arms. I feel her steady breaths on my neck. She isn’t terrified. She’s breathing me in. And I think I’ll fucking enjoy this feeling until she snaps back.
Only... she doesn’t. Not for a good while.
??????
“Mehul’s gotten access to approximately 4300 data sets—4278 to be exact. They’re mostly synthetic but... fuck if he isn’t aggressive as hell.”
My random rant four days later is met with a weighted silence. Greesha is sitting next to me on the couch. Both of us engrossed in our laptops.
She seems quieter—more tense than she usually is.
“Gree?”
“—sha,” she mutters distractedly and grunts. “Why isn’t he doing anything?”
I frown, ignoring her correction. “He is. He has access to all those—”
“Dev planted ten potential real data sets in there right? He should’ve discovered at least one—almost immediately. Why hasn’t he attempted anything? It’s been four fucking days!”
She snaps her laptop shut almost aggressively and shoots up. Pacing the room with her jerky movements. She’s been fine these last few days ever since the Anil trap.
What the fuck changed?
“Are you... what are you thinking? You think we fucked something up?”
She lets out a ragged breath. “Do you think... Dev never planted the real data sets? Just so he could save them?”
My eyes narrow at her. I’m about to snap, ready to defend Dev—the very loyal man I’ve known him to be. But then I stop short.
He was never happy with this plan. Could he have jeopardized us enough, behind our backs to protect those ten—very real—kids?
“I...” I huff out a disbelieving sigh. “Fuck. Let me call him.”
I’m already dialing him when I hear Greesha mumble. “I’ll call La—Viraj.”
I stare at my phone in horror when he doesn’t pick up. It’s fucking two in the afternoon. We have a scheduled meeting in thirty minutes. He wouldn’t not pick up. And given the circumstances, he has never missed my calls in months.
I try again. And again. And a-fucking-gain.
Nothing.
Now, I panic. Because I think Greesha is right. If Dev refused to plant the real data sets, the breach would clearly reveal itself as a fucking trap.
Fuck. Fucking fuck!
My head snaps up as a voice fills the room.
Greesha’s staring at her phone—on speaker.
“I won the bet, saale madarchod! She did call him!” (Fucking motherfucker)
A familiar voice. Followed by a loud cackle.
“Hello, Aadya madam,” Mehul drawls, practically giggling. “Viraj is currently... unavailable. How can I help?”
Greesha freezes. And not just with surprise—this news pins her in place like a dart to a board.
I open my mouth to speak, but she’s already gathering herself.
“Mehul Bedi,” she says sweetly—too sweet. “Can you tell me where he is? My boss needs him on another bodyguard assignment.”
“Oh?” he snickers. “It’s safe to say that... guarding a body won’t be in his cards.”
A beat. Then, darker:
“Anymore.”
Her eyes flick to mine. And just for a second, I see it. Terror. Raw and real—the kind I’ve only seen when I’m in danger. That alone is enough to make my stomach flip. They have history. I don’t want to know what kind. But this has her frightened.
“Ah!” She recovers quickly. “Let’s cut to the chase, shall we, Mehul? What do you want?”
Mehul cackles again—and somewhere in the distance, we hear a muffled scream. A man’s scream.
My blood turns to ice.
“Erase everything to do with my company from GenVault’s systems,” he says, voice now calm and calculated. “Do that, and they’ll be okay. You have six hours.”
Click.
Silence.
“He...” I start, panic clawing up my throat.
“He wants us to get rid of the fucking evidence,” Greesha sneers, already moving.
Before I’ve even blinked, she’s sprinting to her room. I follow—watching her strip off comfort and wrap herself in combat. She pulls on a tactical ensemble with practiced precision, loading weapons I didn’t even know she had. Magazines tucked under layers I’d never noticed. Blades hidden in seams.
It’s happening.
The fucking end to this is here.
I dash to my room, tearing off sweatpants, yanking on jeans, throwing on a black leather jacket like it’ll help me match the hurricane in the other room.
By the time I’m back in the living room, she’s pacing near the door, practically vibrating with fury and purpose.
“Lock the door. Don’t wait up. If I don’t come back, get a message to Nayan Murthy—he’s saved as NDS in my phone,” she mutters in monotone, sliding a burner onto the kitchen island. “Call him if you hear nothing from me by midnight. Got it?”
Panic grabs my knees and nearly drags me down. I watch her start wrapping her hands like she’s heading into a ring. And maybe she is.
I cross the room and grip her shoulders. “I’m coming with you.”
She shoves me back—not harsh, just firm. “Stay. Here. Do I need to repeat myself?”
“Maybe, sweetheart. But I’m your ace,” I reply, calm and certain. “Me and my laptop? You will want us.”
She finally looks up. Her eyes widen—like she’s really seeing me. The outfit. The certainty. The steel under all my anxious chatter.
She shakes her head, already protesting. “No—”
“Yes,” I cut in, voice low. “Let’s go. Grab your phone. I’ve got my laptop.”
I don’t give her time to argue. It’s the best card we have left, and she knows it. I can flip the script if need be.
Grunting, she dials someone on her main phone as we head for the door.
“Did you get the location? I need it, now,” she says, voice smooth as cut glass.
“Roger that,” a male voice responds. A few seconds pass. “Transmitting now.”
She exhales slowly. I stay quiet. She doesn’t need my commentary right now. I’m not here to make this rescue feel like a duo. I’m just her backup. Maybe even her Achilles heel.
But I know exactly why I called myself the ace.
Because today, I didn’t just change outfits.
I’m bringing my own secret no one knows about.