Chapter Two.
Ira followed beside Mrs. Rathore as they descended the grand staircase, her heart still unsettled.
Mrs Rathore lips now curved in a faint smile, as though the storm from earlier had finally eased.
But Ira couldn’t shake the weight pressing on her chest. Devraj’s eyes.
That hard, unflinching stare. Cold. Stern. Almost merciless.
And that word he had thrown out so casually. Kill.
It lingered in her mind like an echo, making her skin prickle.
If his own mother had been forced to coax him into agreeing…
if her tone earlier carried that mix of irritation and weariness… then surely, Ira wasn’t the first girl they’d brought here to work for him.
Others must have tried. And failed. Or maybe they hadn’t even lasted long enough to try.
Would i?
Will I even survive this? she wondered, the thought whispering like a shadow as she followed Mrs. Rathore into the drawing room.
"So, Ira…" Mrs. Rathore’s calm voice cut through her spiraling thoughts, snapping her back to the present.
The woman seated herself gracefully on a polished sofa, while Ira remained standing, her fingers knotting together nervously.
She offered her a soft smile, almost maternal. A servant stepped forward, handing her a slim file. Mrs. Rathore accepted it, then extended it toward Ira.
Hesitant, Ira reached for it, her brows knitting together in quiet confusion.
"That.." Mrs. Rathore explained smoothly, "contains everything you will need to do for my son. His schedule, his needs, and the hours you are expected to arrive and leave each day."
Ira flipped the file open, her eyes scanning the neatly typed pages. It felt… overwhelming.
Too neat. Too precise.
"As for the payment.." Mrs. Rathore added, "you’ll finalize that tomorrow when you resume. And don’t feel pressured, Ira. If tomorrow is too soon, next week will do. What matters is that you are ready."
She smiled again, though there was a hint of steel beneath her tone.
"But do go through those pages carefully. My son despises disorder. He will not tolerate uncleanliness or anything… unkempt. You’ll understand more once you’ve read it."
Ira’s stomach twisted. She clutched the file tighter, feeling oddly suffocated.
A caregiver job doesn’t need this many rules, she thought uneasily.
Why does it feel like I’m signing up for something else entirely?
Before she could dwell too much on it, a new voice rang across the hall.
"The goddess is still here?"
Startled, Ira turned her head and her breath caught.
Vivaan with an easy grin strode in, his eyes lighting up the moment they landed on her.
He looked nothing like Devraj — where the elder son’s gaze had been sharp and unforgiving, this one was mischievous, warm, and entirely too bold.
"Ira, isn’t it?" he asked, smile widening.
Ira’s throat tightened as she nodded, suddenly self-conscious beneath his gaze.
"You two know each other?" Mrs. Rathore asked, brows arched.
"No.." Ira answered quickly.
"Yes.." he said at the same time.
Ira blinked at him in disbelief, her lips parting.
What?
The boyish man chuckled, eyes twinkling. "Kidding, Ma. We don’t. I just saw her a little while ago. Guess she’s here for a job?" He flopped onto the seat beside his mother, still smiling at Ira.
Her palms grew clammy. This guy… he’s trouble. The kind that smiles while he’s causing chaos.
"Ah, you’re very silly, Vivaan." Mrs. Rathore sighed, though the corners of her mouth twitched in reluctant amusement. "But yes. She’s here for work."
"Huh? Work?" Vivaan tilted his head, his grin turning teasing. "Ma, we’ve got plenty of maids running around.
And even if we needed another one, you can’t give her the job."
Ira froze, staring at him in disbelief. Excuse me?
Mrs. Rathore frowned. "Vivaan! What on earth are you saying? She isn’t here for that. And why would you–"
"Ma.." he interrupted, eyes still dancing with mischief. "She doesn’t fit that job. Goddesses don’t scrub floors."
He winked at Ira, who was utterly thrown off by his audacity.
Mrs. Rathore, on the other hand, looked seconds away from smacking her son upside the head.
"You are impossible. Anyway, she’s Devraj’s new caregiver." Mrs. Rathore introduced.
Vivaan’s brows lifted. He looked at his mother, then back at Ira, confusion flashing across his face.
"What?" his mother asked, sensing his stare.
"She?" he asked pointedly.
Mrs. Rathore shot him a glare.
"I hope she lasts long.." he muttered under his breath. Ira caught it, but brushed it off.
"Anyway, Ira.." his mother continued, "you can leave now. Text me back if you want to start tomorrow or next week. Reply to the same email."
Ira smiled, nodded, and was already on her feet.
"Wait, let me drop you." Vivaan said, rising too.
"N-no… no thanks, I’m fine." Ira forced a polite smile.
"I have to go now. Bye, ma." She hurried out of the living hall.
"She looked scared." Vivaan murmured, eyes lingering on Ira until she disappeared from view.
"Somewhat brave too." his mother replied, standing. She began walking toward the staircase but stopped halfway, turning back to him.
“One more thing...” her voice turned stern, cutting the warmth from earlier, “I got a call from Rani. Why are you ignoring her?”
Vivaan’s playful mask shattered instantly. His jaw tightened, his shoulders straightened, and the easy charm drained from his face.
“I told you already, Ma. I don’t like her.” His tone was sharp, unwavering.
“She loves you.” Mrs. Rathore insisted.
He gave a bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair in annoyance. “No, she doesn’t. Not me. She’s obsessed with Devraj. Even when she’s with me, all she does is talk about him. It’s pathetic.”
“You’re being ridiculous.” she snapped, crossing her arms. “You push her away. She cares for you...deeply.”
Vivaan stepped closer, his eyes hard. “I don't care.. She is freaking Clingy, rude and selfish. Don’t try to dress it up, Ma. I don’t want her. I never will.”
Vivaan raked a hand through his hair in frustration, then turned to leave.
"Don’t walk away from me, Vivaan."
"And I’ve told you not to bring that topic up again!
" His voice rose, sharp with anger. "I don’t like her. I can’t be with a spoiled brat who spends recklessly and only talks about Devraj every time we meet.
Not that I care about her interest...but it’s annoying.
Please, enough with the matchmaking. It’s starting to piss me off.
Bhai, is way older than i am, fix him up with someone and stop bothering me. "
Vivaan stormed off, jaw clenched. The silence that followed was heavy.
Mrs. Rathore stood frozen, her glare lingering at the space he left behind.
Her chest rose and fell before she exhaled deeply, smoothing her saree with trembling fingers.
With a resigned sigh, she finally walked away.
???
Ira collapsed onto her bed with a groan, her limbs limp from the whirlwind of a day.
“What a freaking day..” she muttered, eyes fluttering shut for a second, but her thoughts wouldn’t let her rest.
Caregiver to Devraj Singh Rathore?
Her eyes flew open again, replaying every second inside that mansion.
His piercing silence, the sharp command in his eyes, that dangerously composed face.
“He looked like he could burn someone alive with just a stare.” she whispered to herself.
And then there was that one word he said harshly.
Kill.
A chill ran through her. Her heart thudded louder as the word echoed again and again in her mind.
What had he meant by that? Was it a warning? A threat?
“I met Vivaan… he was nice… weirdly nice.. Although mischievous.” she mumbled, staring at the ceiling.
“And Mrs. Rathore… God, she’s intense. Like the kind of woman who rules a palace. But Devraj...his aura is something else entirely. Cold. Like silence with a heartbeat.”
Ira sat up abruptly and rubbed her hands down her face. “How the hell am I going to survive this?”
She reached for the file Mrs Rathore gave her and read over the schedule again.
8 a.m. to 3 p.m. Monday through Saturday.
Seven hours a day.
She was to care for Devraj, handle his needs, monitor his medication, and make him rest well, and few other things... Like, his meals, his movements, making sure his room is well tidy...
“Okay. Seven hours. That’s fine..” she reassured herself.
“The pay..she said they’d tell me when i resume. Please, God, let it be worth it..” she prayed softly.
Her phone buzzed to life, jerking her from her spiral. She glanced at the screen.
Ritika.
With a relieved sigh, she answered, “Hey, babe.”
Ritika’s voice was already bubbling. “So?! How was the interview? Did you get it?”
Ira groaned, laying flat on the bed again. “Riri, I need to ask you something first. That job link you sent me.. it for a caretaker or a caregiver?”
Ritika paused. “Huh? Care what? Babe, I saw caretaker there and sent it to you, you saw it too. Why?”
Ira shot up, annoyed. “Because I got the job. But it’s not what you or I, thought it was.”
“What do you mean?” Ritika asked, the line sharpening with curiosity.
“I’m assigned to take care of Devraj Singh Rathore.” Ira said, words slow and deliberate.
Dead silence.
Then a burst of laughter. “You’re such a clown, Ira. Come on, seriously. What’s the real job?”
“I’m not lying!” Ira shouted. “I swear on everything, Riri. It’s not a caretaker position. It’s not sweeping floors or dusting tables. I’m supposed to personally care for the first son of the Rathore family.”
“Oh my God.” Ritika’s voice was suddenly serious. “Ira, you’re joking, right?”
“I wish I was.”
“I didn’t know… I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” Ritika asked, guilt in her tone.
“Not really. But what choice do I have? Jobs don’t just fall from the sky. I need this, even if it’s a bad idea.” Ira muttered, running a hand through her hair.
“I’m worried about you.” Ritika said softly. “This isn’t a joke, Ira. Devraj Singh Rathore? That family is wrapped in mystery. You’ve heard the rumors…”
“I know. But Mrs. Rathore interviewed me herself. And for some reason, there’s a wheelchair in his room. I think…” Ira hesitated, her voice falling to a whisper. “I think the rumors about the accident are true.”
“Oh, God..” Ritika breathed. “That explains a lot. Maybe that’s why he needed a caregiver.”
“Obviously..” Ira murmured.
“When do you start?”
“According to Mrs Rathore, she said i can start Tomorrow or next week, any day i feel much comfortable..”
“And the pay?”
“I’ll find that out too, when i start. Hopefully, it doesn’t come with blood and trauma.” Ira said, half-joking.
Ritika snorted. “Be careful, babe. Seriously.”
“I will. I promise.”
They chatted a little longer.
When they finally ended the call, Ira let the silence of her room wrap around her again.
I think it will be much better, I start next week. I need to get myself ready first. She thought as she stood up from her bed..
I need to tell my parents when they gets back, I hope they don't freak out.
Her phone buzzed again, and this time when Ira glanced at the screen, her lips curved into a smile.
Kunal.
She answered quickly. “Kunal..” she breathed, her voice soft.
Just saying his name made her blush.
“Ira…” his deep, gentle voice came through the line, making her cheeks heat even more. “How are you?”
“I’m fine.” she said shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “And you? How’s work going?”
He chuckled, the sound rich and boyish. “It’s going fine. How’s your day? And the interview?”
Her eyes fluttered down, hesitating. “Oh, it was alright. The interview was… nice. It’s for a caregiver position.”
“Caregiver?” His curiosity sharpened. “You’re taking care of an old person?”
Ira bit her lip, her fingers tightening around the phone. “Um… how about we meet later? I’ll explain everything then.”
“You sure you’re okay?” His voice held a tone of concern that softened her heart.
“Yes, I’m fine.” she assured quickly. “When are you free? We could talk then.”
“I can come right now if you want. You’re home, right?”
Ira giggled softly. “Kunal, I’m fine. Finish work first, hmm? Come over later this evening. I don’t want you leaving work because of me.”
He sighed deeply, reluctant. “Alright… see you in a few hours. Take care, Ira.”
Her lips curled into a smile.
“I love you very much.” he added..
Her heart skipped. She whispered, “Bye.” before hanging up.
The screen went dark, but Ira’s grin lingered.
Kunal...He wasn’t her fiancé yet, but her betrothed...the man her parent had chosen for her.
The very first meeting, he’d looked at her with warmth in his eyes, and slowly, things had fallen into place, she had never expected it to feel this natural.
Kunal was kind, respectful, and responsible. A man her parents trusted, a man she could see herself building a quiet life with.
A manager at his father’s company, calm and collected, he wasn’t the type to raise his voice or draw attention.
He had been the first to admit his feelings, the first to go to her parents with pure intentions. And Ira..soft, gentle Ira..found herself liking him.
She set the phone aside, still smiling, and rose from her bed.
The quiet happiness lingered as she walked out of her room.
◇?◇
The sharp clatter of laptop keys filled the silence of Devraj’s vast, bedroom.
He sat against the headboard, his cold eyes locked on the glowing screen when a hesitant knock echoed through the heavy door.
His gaze snapped toward it, hard and unwelcoming.
“Come in.” his deep voice commanded, clipped and emotionless.
The door creaked open, revealing a maid clutching a silver tray.
Her hands trembled as she stepped inside, each footfall sounding far too loud in the suffocating stillness.
“H… here’s y-your meal, sir..” she stammered, carefully placing the tray on the small table by his bed.
She lingered nervously, head bowed, waiting..though she wasn’t sure if for instructions or dismissal.
Devraj’s jaw tightened. His face twisted, anger flashing in his eyes.
“Get out.” he bit out.
The maid froze, trembling. “I–I’m sorry, sir—”
“And I don’t want to see you here again..” he cut her off.
A soft gasp slipped from her lips before she spun around, practically running from the room.
The door shut with a thud, leaving Devraj exhaling slowly, massaging his temple with one hand.
But before the silence could settle again, the door swung open without a knock. His head snapped up, irritation flaring.
“Didn’t I tell you to–”
“Woah, relax, man.”
A smooth, masculine voice interrupted, followed by the sight of Advik strolling in, a smirk tugging at his lips.
His best friend.
Advik was tall and powerfully built, the kind of man who carried his presence into a room without trying.
His features were sharp, his jawline outlined by a neat trim of beard that only made him look more dangerously appealing.
His storm-grey eyes held a restless energy, always watching and yet there was often a lazy smirk playing on his lips, as if he found amusement in everything others took seriously, but beneath his smooth exterior was a sharp mind.
Devraj’s most trusted confidant and the only man who dared tease him without fear.
Unlike everyone else, he walked into Devraj’s space as if it belonged to him.
“You really need to ease up. That poor maid looked like she was running for her life out there...panting like a deer that just escaped a predator.” Advik chuckled, carelessly tossing his suit jacket aside before settling onto the leather couch with the ease of someone who wasn’t afraid of Devraj’s wrath.
“How did the meeting go today?” Devraj asked flatly, ignoring what he said.
Advik sighed, tilting his head back. “Went well enough. I managed to bargain with a few company owners...secured at least forty percent shares from two of them. Solid investments, high market value, low risk. I did my research.”
Devraj’s eyes flicked toward him, steady. He gave a small nod.
“I sent the documents to your email.” Advik continued, stretching an arm across the back of the couch. “Go through them when you can.”
“Nice work.” Devraj said quietly.
Advik’s smirk widened. “Did you just… praise me? Now that’s rare.” He chuckled at his own amusement, watching Devraj avert his gaze.
“You need to stop with the whole stern, brooding act, brother. How will women ever come near you with that permanent scowl?”
“Shut up. I don’t need a woman” Devraj replied coldly..“And I don’t want one.”
Advik laughed under his breath, mischief gleaming in his eyes. “Oh? What about Alia then?”
The name dropped like a stone between them. Devraj’s glare lifted, pinning Advik in place.
The smirk on Advik’s lips only deepened.
"Come on, she likes you. A lot. She even volunteered to take care of you. But you didn’t agree to it." Advik said, shaking his head with a little grin.
"I like my space. And I don’t need any woman to look after me." Devraj’s voice cold. Then, almost as if his mind shifted gears, he added, "Speaking of women, I need you to check on someone."
Advik’s brows rose. "And that is?"
"My mother once again hired someone to look after me, even after I told her not to." Devraj muttered, his jaw flexing.
Advik chuckled. "Oh, hehe. Your mom means business."
"I don’t care. Her name is Ira. Find out more about her. I want to know if she’s a spy, if she’s dangerous..anything you can dig up." Devraj said firmly.
Advik tilted his head, eyeing him strangely. "Why look into her? You never bothered with the others. They came, they left..you didn’t even blink. What’s so different about this one?"
Devraj’s eyes darkened, his face hardening into that mask of silence he wore so well. "Just do what I told you. Stop asking questions."
Advik leaned back, whistling low. "Well, I can’t."
Devraj’s head snapped toward him. "Why not?"
"Because ‘Ira’ alone won’t get me anywhere. There are thousands of Iras in India. What’s her full name? Or at least a picture, perhaps?"
Devraj scowled, the veins in his temple tightening. "Are you insane? A picture?"
Advik groaned dramatically, dragging a hand down his face. "Fine, fine. But without details, you’re wasting my time. At least get me her surname."
Devraj exhaled sharply, his patience thinning. "I’ll get her name and send it to you tonight."
Advik finally nodded, smirking again. "Good. Because now you’ve got me curious about this mysterious caretaker of yours. Ira, huh? Let’s see what she’s really hiding."
???
Hiii!!! Sorry for the late update...??????????
Can I get 20 votes please ?? ?? and comments.. hehe