Chapter Six.
Ira returned to the room balancing the breakfast tray.
The soft hiss of running water drifted from the bathroom, the sound of the shower still going.
The room itself was empty, quiet, almost too still.
She placed the tray carefully on the table, arranging the dishes, then moved toward the couch where her tote bag sat.
Pulling out her phone and a schedule note, she looked through the notes on Devraj’s schedule, the list of tasks she was expected to follow.
She had barely begun to skim when a sudden thud echoed from the bathroom.
Her breath caught. She froze, then hurried to the doorway but stopped just short of entering.
“Sir? Are you okay?” Her voice trembled despite her attempt to sound calm.
There was no response, just the muffled sound of movement.
“Sir? Should I call someone?” she tried again, louder this time.
A sharp groan answered her, low and pained.
Her pulse quickened. “Do you… do you need help?”
“Shut the hell up.” Devraj’s voice lashed from behind the door, hard enough to make her flinch.
She gulped, stunned into silence, though she thought she heard him mutter something else, words too soft to catch.
She lingered by the door. She couldn’t cross that line; he’d made it clear already how strict he was with boundaries.
All she could do was hover a few paces back, worrying.
I hope he’s fine, she thought, biting her lip.
Moments later, the bathroom door opened, steam spilling into the room as Devraj wheeled himself out, already changed into a slate-grey shirt and fitted trousers.
Ira exhaled in relief, quickly moving to help.
She guided him carefully to the side of the bed, steadying the wheelchair as he braced himself to shift.
When his body tensed, Ira instinctively reached out, slipping an arm around his waist to support him.
His muscles stiffened under her touch, but she was too focused on the effort to notice the way his amber eyes darkened.
Her brow furrowed with concentration as she carefully maneuvered him onto the mattress.
When she finally got him seated, she released a breath, crouching down to adjust his legs with gentle precision and lifting them onto the bed.
All the while, Devraj remained silent, watching her. Watching how her hands moved, how her focus was fixed only on the task, not him.
She leaned forward again, adjusting the pillows behind him to prop his frame upright.
A few strands of her hair slipped loose, falling across her cheek, blocking his view.
His fingers twitched against the blanket. He wanted to brush them aside, to feel the silkiness of them between his fingers.
Instead, he clenched his fist, his jaw tight. He inhaled sharply, the faint trace of her scent teasing him again.
When she finally straightened, Ira caught his gaze, unmoving and fixed entirely on her.
Her eyes widened, a nervous jolt running through her, and she immediately stepped back.
“I… I’m sorry, sir.” she stammered softly, her voice polite but shaky. “I just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable.”
Devraj’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, but he looked away, his features carved back into steel.
Inside, his hands curled tighter into fists. What the hell was that?
Ira walked back to the table where she’d left his breakfast tray.
She lifted it with steady hands and carefully brought it over, setting it within his reach on the bed.
Devraj’s eyes tracked her every movement again, unblinking, relentless.
He hated how easily they followed her without permission, hated the strange pull he felt with every small gesture she made.
His hand clenched against the pillow at his side, the fabric twisting beneath his grip.
Why am I feeling this way? He thought.
Just then, a sharp ping broke the silence. Ira’s phone lit up on the couch where she’d left her tote bag.
She gave him a nervous smile, murmured a quick excuse, and hurried over to check.
Devraj lowered his gaze to his plate and picked up his fork, stabbing into his food to eat.
Ira unlocked the screen and her lips curved. Kunal. The name alone softened her expression.
Ira’s chest warmed.
She quickly typed back: Yes, Kunal, I’m fine ?? Don’t worry about me… you just work, okay?
The message ticked as read almost instantly, and the three dots appeared, Kunal was already typing back.
Ira’s smile widened, her eyes glowing with tenderness.
Devraj, chewing slowly, caught the sight of that smile.
A sudden scowl tugged at his mouth. His fork stilled halfway.
The softness in her expression unsettled him, irritated him.
Her boyfriend. It had to be.
“You are working, Miss Ira.” He said and kinda laced with bitterness.
“This isn’t the time to chat with your boyfriend.”
Ira gasped, nearly dropping her phone as her head jerked toward him.
Her eyes widened. “I… I’m sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.” She dropped the phone on the couch , her tone nervous but respectful.
Devraj’s jaw tightened. So it was her boyfriend.
The confirmation stung in ways he refused to name.
Irritation flared hot in his chest, irrational and sharp.
“Take this away.” he muttered, pushing the breakfast tray aside though he’d barely touched the food. “And get me my meds.”
Ira blinked at the meal, noticing how little he had eaten, but she knew better than to question him.
She gave a small nod and lifted the tray again, carrying it carefully back to the table before heading toward the drawer where his medications were kept.
She retrieved the blister packs, set a glass of water beside him, and handed the pills over.
Devraj swallowed them.
“Sir, your next session is your exercise.” she said softly once he’d finished. “Let me drop this in the kitchen, I’ll be back.”
He gave no reply, just shifted his attention to his laptop as though she didn’t exist.
Ira dipped her head respectfully and slipped out, closing the door gently behind her.
The moment the latch clicked, his gaze snapped toward the couch.
Her phone still lay there. Silent, for now.
But she hadn’t denied it.
She did have a man.
The thought rolled bitterly through him, unwanted yet unavoidable.
Good. Better that way. It means she’ll keep her distance.
Distance..something he needed. Something safe.
He wouldn’t allow another person close enough to touch the parts of him he kept hidden, not again.
And yet..
The screen lit up again. Another message.
Devraj’s chest constricted, Why does it bother me? Why the hell does it matter?
The phone dinged a second time, insistently. His jaw clenched until it ached.
He forced his eyes away, dragging his laptop onto his knees instead.
Advik had sent documents this morning, important ones.
Work was what mattered. Work was safe.
Still, his mind remained a storm, every ding from that phone striking him like an unwelcome echo.
???
The door swung open as Ira wheeled Devraj into the private gym.
Her eyes widened without meaning to.
The space was massive, gleaming machines lined the walls, mirrors stretched endlessly, and polished floors shone under the soft light.
Wow… this place is huge, she thought, her lips parting slightly in awe.
She pushed Devraj further in and stopped him in front of the treadmill.
The machine looked intimidating even to her, and she glanced down at the paper schedule in her hand.
“It says here… you need to try this for five minutes.” she said, her voice careful, almost tentative, “on tortoise speed.”
Devraj’s eyes flicked up to hers. Dark. Intense. A silent warning that made her heart skip uncomfortably.
“D…do you need help?” she asked softly, unable to stop the concern from slipping into her tone.
The only reply she got was a cold stare, sharp enough to make her throat tighten. She quickly looked away.
With effort, Devraj shifted forward, bracing his weight to stand.
His body trembled slightly with the strain, and Ira’s hands twitched at her sides, ready to catch him if he faltered.
Every step was a battle. His legs felt weak, like they could collapse beneath him at any second. He grasped the treadmill’s handle with iron determination, his jaw tightening.
Ira instinctively reached out to steady him, her hand brushing the firm muscle of his arm.
The warmth of her touch burned into him like fire.
Devraj stiffened violently. That single, fleeting contact stole his control. His foot slipped, and in the next second, he crashed hard onto the treadmill.
Ira gasped, stepping forward in alarm. “Sir–!”
“Stay back!” His roar cracked through the room like a whip.
Ira froze, her pulse racing. She swallowed hard, fear tightening her chest, and took a hurried step back. “I…I’m sorry, sir.”
Devraj’s breaths came harsh and uneven, his chest rising and falling rapidly. That scent again.
He clenched his jaw.
What the fuck is she using? It clung to her, seeping into him, disarming him in ways he hated.
He looked up, and caught the sympathy in her eyes.
It made his blood boil. He didn’t want her pity. He wasn’t weak.
Teeth grinding, he forced his trembling body up again, gripping the treadmill for leverage until he was standing once more.
Ira’s shoulders eased, and she let out a small sigh of relief. “Be careful, sir.” she whispered softly.
Devraj’s gaze flickered to her faint smile, and something ugly twisted in his chest. He looked away sharply.
Stupid woman.
His legs wobbled, pain shooting through his muscles as he began the slow, torturous steps.
Each movement drew a hiss from his lips, a groan that he struggled to suppress.
His pride kept him upright, his fury fueling him more than his strength did.
Ira hovered near the console, her fingers adjusting the timer. “Just five minutes, sir.” she said gently, but he didn’t reply.
All he could hear was his own ragged breathing, the pounding of his pulse, and the infuriating thought of her watching him, seeing his weakness.
I am not weak.
Minute by agonizing minute, he pushed himself through, Ira’s eyes flicking nervously between him and the timer.
Finally, after what felt like forever, the beeping indicated the time was done.
“The time is up, sir.” she said, relief in her voice.
Devraj’s body gave out, collapsing onto the treadmill.
His breaths were ragged, his face damp with effort..
Ira’s hands twitched again, desperate to help, but the memory of his sharp voice earlier kept her rooted in place.
She bit her lip, her voice barely above a whisper. “Do you… need help, sir?”
His dark eyes cut to her again, burning with fury, humiliation and something else.
His teeth ground together as he refused to answer.
He gripped the arms of his wheelchair, dragging in heavy breaths as he lowered himself into the seat.
His head fell back, chest rising and falling sharply, Adam’s apple bobbing with every gasp.
Stray strands of hair clung to his damp forehead.
Without thinking, Ira slipped a bottle of water into his hand.
His eyes flickered open at the gesture, dark and unreadable, before he unscrewed the cap and drank.
Suddenly..
“Ira?”
She turned. Vivaan leaned casually in the doorway, but this time… he looked different.
Shirtless, his broad chest and sculpted abs on full display, joggers slung low on his hips, gloves still on his hands, trainers laced for the gym.
His hair fell over his forehead, that familiar easy smile tugging at his lips.
“Third time we’ve bumped into each other this morning..” he said, voice laced with amusement. “Must be fate.”
Ira blinked at him, unimpressed. Fate? Really?
Vivaan strolled further into the room, his gaze finally landing on his brother.
“Bhai? You’re out of breath already?” he teased.
Devraj’s eyes flicked to him, before returning to his water.
Vivaan ignored the lack of response and turned his attention back to Ira.
“Wanna watch me train?” he asked, stepping closer.
“Um… no?” she replied flatly.
He arched a brow at her answer, grin unfazed. “Aw, come on. I actually need your opinion on something.”
She tilted her head, wary. “On what?”
“You’re a girl, act like a fan girl okay?” he began, as if that explained everything. “I’m an actor. There’s an audition coming up, hero role. Tough guy, great fighter, the works. I need to nail the character.” His grin widened, self-assured. “Who better to ask than you?”
Ira’s brows drew together. “Still not seeing what answers I’m supposed to give.” she said, tone dry.
Vivaan only smiled wider, clearly entertained by her resistance.
“I’m talking about my body..” Vivaan said, stepping back slightly, flexing without shame. “Been building it for months. What do you think?”
Ira’s eyes flicked over him, brief, polite, nothing more.
But Devraj saw it.
And something inside him snapped. His grip on the wheelchair’s arm tightened until his knuckles strained white.
His eyes darkened, with an anger he couldn’t voice.
“Miss Ira..” his voice were hard, thick with restraint. “Take me back. Now.”
Vivaan only chuckled at the command, unfazed.
“Aw, you’re leaving already? Guess I’ll show you next time, Ira.” His grin widened, and with a wink he added, “By the way, you look beautiful.” Then he strolled off toward heavy lifting areas.
Devraj flinched at the words.
Ira just exhaled, shaking her head at the unnecessary drama, before silently wheeling him out.
But Devraj burned. A restless fire crawled in his chest, hot and bitter. He hated it.
Why did she staring?
Doesn’t she already have a man, and yet she still looks at another?
The thought gnawed at him, ugly and unrelenting.
And then, an image that only made it worse.
Would she stare at me too… if she saw?
The idea jolted through him, and he snapped against it, furious with himself.
Shameless woman. She has someone already, yet she dares to look at another man.
His thoughts turned harsher, bitter, every nerve in his body tight with irritation as the fire inside him refused to settle.
???
The day had run faster than Ira expected. Hard, exhausting, and still her first day… but at last the clock struck three.
Relief washed over her as she picked up her tote bag.
Devraj’s eyes followed the motion, his frown deepening.
“Where are you going?” His voice was sharp.
“Oh, um…” She shifted, adjusting her bag. “My hours are from 8 a.m. to 3 p.m. Sir. So my job here is done for today.”
He was about to speak when the door swung open. Both their heads turned.
Advik stepped in and froze the moment his eyes landed on Ira. His surprise melted into an easy, charming smile.
“Hi, you must be Miss Ira.” He warmly said.
Ira straightened a little, caught off guard.
“My name’s Advik..” he continued, strolling further inside. “Your boss’s best friend.”
Her lips curved politely. “Hello, Sir.”
Advik chuckled. “Sir? Do I look old to you?”
Her eyes widened slightly and she shook her head quickly.
"No, it's n–"
“Then just call me Advik, okay?” he said with a grin.
Ira sighed softly, her polite smile returning. “Okay… Advik. Please excuse me.” She gave him a small nod and slipped out the door.
Advik watched her leave, grinning wider. “Damn. She’s even more appealing in person.”
But his smile faltered when he caught sight of Devraj. His best friend’s eyes were dark. Too dark.
“You okay?” Advik asked carefully.
“Why are you here?” Devraj’s tone was ice.
Advik blinked, frowning. “What? Raj, are you–”
“If you have nothing to report.” Devraj cut him off coldly, “leave. Send me the files instead.”
Advik stared at him, thrown by the clipped dismissal, then finally gave a stiff nod and walked out.
The room was quiet again, but Devraj’s thoughts weren’t.
His jaw locked tight. That smile Ira had given Advik, it replayed over and over in his mind like a taunt.
The warmth in her tone when she said his name.
The softness in her eyes.
He hated it. Every single thing.
???