Chapter Nine.
He doesn’t crave her love...he craves her absence of choice, the sweet silence that comes when she no longer resists.
~??????~
Devraj lay against the headboard, his laptop balanced on his lap, eyes sharp as one of his managers droned on about projections.
His jaw was set, his presence commanding even from a screen.
The room was quiet, until Ira slipped in.
She carried a stack of freshly pressed clothes in her arms, her steps soft, almost careful not to disturb him.
She didn’t interrupt, didn’t even look his way. She simply crossed to the walk-in closet, that faint smile tugging at her lips as she worked.
Devraj’s gaze, however, betrayed him.
He glanced once. Then again. Then again.
The voices from the laptop blurred, white noise compared to the sound of her hangers sliding into place.
When the closet door finally creaked open again, he flinched, swallowing hard, as if he was caught doing bad, when she stepped back into view.
His eyes dragged over her before he forced them back to the screen, fingers tightening around the laptop edge.
The meeting droned again, but every time she moved, lifting, bending, reaching, his eyes betrayed him, sliding toward her.
Ira gathered the dishes from his tray, moving toward the door.
A low groan escaped his throat before he could stop it.
“Sir… is there a problem?” one of the men on the screen asked carefully.
Devraj’s eyes snapped to them.
“Continue.” he ordered.
Moments later, Ira returned.
She walked to the table, checked his schedule, and scribbled a note to herself.
Her expression softened into a small smile.
Just a few more tasks and I can go home. I’m exhausted.
Devraj’s eyes flicked up again, catching that smile, and something inside him twisted, then he looked away.
A knock shattered the quiet.
Ira froze, then glanced at him. He didn’t react, eyes pinned to the meeting.
The knock came again. She hesitated, then set the schedule down and went to the door.
When she opened it, she blinked.
Rani?
The girl stood there draped in sweetness, her lips curved into a smile that felt too practiced, eyes glinting as they swept over Ira.
“Ira, right?”
Ira raised a brow. “Yes. Can I help you with something?”
Rani’s smile widened. “I just wanted to apologize… for calling you a maid. Vivaan was right. You don’t look like one.”
Ira forced a polite smile, though unease coiled low in her stomach.
Something about Rani’s tone didn’t feel like an apology...it felt like a test?
“As I said before, no harm done. If that’s all, I’ll excuse myself now.”
“I want to see Devraj.” Rani said suddenly.
Ira’s body stilled, her breath catching. See Devraj? Did he know she was coming?
Across the room, Devraj’s head lifted. His brow furrowed, his gaze cutting to Ira at the door.
He then muted the meeting.
“Ira.” his voice rolled out, cold, sending a shiver down her spine.
She turned to him, her pulse quickening.
“Who is that at the door?”
Ira was about to answer, but before a word could leave her lips, Rani shoved the door open and swept inside, brushing against Ira so roughly she stumbled a step back.
Devraj’s eyes flicked up at the motion, his jaw tightening, fist curling on his lap.
“Devraj… it’s me, Rani.” She sweetly said as she moved toward him, smiling. “How… how is your health? I wanted to come earlier but Vivaan said you didn’t want to be disturbed.”
Devraj’s stare hardened. “If he gave you that instruction… then what are you doing here?”
Rani faltered, blinking. “I… I just came to check on you. It’s been a while and I–”
“Leave.”
The word sliced through the air. Ira’s eyes widened, slightly.
But she stayed rooted in her corner, silent, observing.
“I… I just–”
“I don’t like repeating myself, Rani.” Devraj’s voice lowered, a warning that held no room for disobedience. “And I’m in a very important meeting.”
Rani swallowed hard, her confidence deflating. She nodded stiffly, turning to retreat when his voice stopped her cold.
“And apologize to Ira.”
Her head whipped back, face blanching. “W… what?”
“You pushed her..” he said evenly, his amber eyes darkening. “You wouldn’t tolerate that rudeness if it were you. So why should she?”
Ira froze, her breath catching. Is he… defending me?
Rani’s jaw tightened. She forced a brittle smile as she glanced at Ira. “I… I’m sorry. That was rude of me.”
Ira softened her own expression, offering a polite smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It’s okay. Mistakes happen.”
Rani’s gaze lingered on her, too long, before she turned to Devraj.
Whatever sweetness remained in her expression crumbled under his unrelenting glare.
Without another word, she spun on her heel and left.
Silence was placed back in the room. Ira let out a quiet sigh, shoulders easing.
Devraj’s gaze, however, stayed locked on her. His eyes narrowed slightly at the calm way she brushed it off, as if none of it had touched her. His jaw ticked.
Then, with a clipped inhale, he turned back to his laptop.
“Continue.”
◆◇◇◆
Ira sat on the balcony, into one of the basket-shaped chairs lined with soft cushions.
The afternoon air carried a quiet calm, the estate stretching beneath her gaze.
Guards moved with disciplined precision, while a few maids bustled in the distance. She noticed a pair slip into a big greenhouse at the far end of the garden.
Flowers, probably… she thought with a soft sigh.
From up here, the view felt almost surreal. Beyond the rolling green, she could just make out the faint outline of the city shimmering against the horizon.
A smile tugged at her lips as she lifted her phone, snapping pictures of the scenery.
She lingered over the photos, her expression softening, as she scrolled through them.
Inside, Devraj had just ended his meeting.
His sharp eyes were drawn instantly to the balcony.
Through the glass doors, he saw her, her hair tugged by the breeze, her face tilted toward the screen, smiling at something..
That smile.
Her boyfriend again?
His jaw locked, an hardness settling over his face.
His stare burned holes into the phone in her hands.
With a clipped breath, he looked away, voice cutting through the room.
“Ira!.”
The sudden boom of his tone made her gasp, nearly dropping her phone. She scrambled inside, her heart hammering.
“Yes, sir?”
“Bring me my crutch.” His voice edged with restrained anger.
She nodded quickly, saying nothing as she hurried to fetch it.
“Stupid woman.” he muttered under his breath.
When she returned, she set the clutch neatly on the bedside table.
Then, without hesitation, she reached for his duvet, pulling it aside, her touch careful as she lifted his legs and eased them down until they rested on the floor.
Devraj’s teeth ground together. Her nearness unsettled him, her faint scent slipping under his skin like poison.
His chest rose sharply as he fought the urge to growl, his fingers curling tightly against the bed.
“Do you want help, sir?” Her voice was, uncertain.
His glared at her, making her flinch.
“Stay back.”
She swallowed hard, nodding, and held the clutch out toward him.
He snatched it, bracing himself as he pressed down on it to support his weight.
Slowly, with every strained movement, he forced himself to stand.
A hiss escaped him as pain surged through his legs. He masked it quickly, jaw tight.
“Okay, sir. I’ll set the timer for ten minutes.” Ira said gently. “Just… walk slowly. I’ll tell you when to stop.”
Devraj gave no response. He began moving, each step deliberate, his hiss of pain betraying what his pride refused to admit.
Ira stood quietly, watching him, something stirred in her chest...pity
??????
It was time for Ira to leave. She gathered her tote bag from the chair, before glancing toward the bed.
Devraj was hunched over his laptop, eyes locked on the glowing screen.
“Good day, sir.” she said softly.
Not a flicker of acknowledgment. He didn’t even lift his head.
Her lips pressed into a tight, forced smile before she turned and walked out.
The moment the door shut behind her, the air in the room shifted.
Devraj’s hand slammed against his hair, dragging through it with frustration.
A low groan escaped his throat, guttural and raw. With a swift motion, he snapped his laptop shut and shoved it aside on the bed.
“Stupid woman.” he muttered, though the words were thick, weighted.
His chest heaved as he leaned back against the headrest, closing his eyes.
But she lingered.
“She can’t be leaving at three..” he whispered to himself, his voice hoarse, almost strangled. “I pay her too much for less than ten hours…”
His nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply. Her scent clung to the room, delicate yet maddening, slipping under his skin.
His hand drifted unconsciously to his thigh, tracing the spot where she had touched him while helping him earlier.
Her touch still burned. He could feel the ghost of her fingers, soft, infuriatingly gentle.
“Something’s wrong with me..” he rasped, head falling back against the rest.
She was the poison, and he slowly getting infected.
??????
Meanwhile, Ira descended the grand staircase, her bag slung over her shoulder, her mind already outside the estate’s heavy walls.
She was almost at the front doors when a voice stopped her.
“Ira.”
She froze. Turning, she found Rani walking toward her.
Now what? Ira thought bitterly, her patience already fraying.
“Oh, you’re leaving?” Rani’s tone was light, almost sing-song.
“Yes.” Ira said curtly. “I’m done for today. Excuse me.” She moved but Rani’s voice followed, sweet and cutting.
“You won’t last long.”
The words made Ira halt mid-step. Slowly, she turned, one brow arching as she met Rani’s smug smile.
“Excuse me?” Ira asked, her voice calm but edged.
Rani folded her arms, tilting her head.
“I know girls like you.” she said, voice dripping with venom. “Desperate for a job, pretending to be sweet. But underneath? Rotten. Just waiting for the chance to spread your legs and seduce Devraj. Don’t think I don’t see it.”
Ira’s stare was flat.
“Are you done?” Ira asked flatly.
Rani blinked, stunned, then her face twisted in irritation.
“He’ll throw you out, just like he threw out those other pathetic girls. All of them came here claiming to take care of him, but really, they just wanted to take advantage.”
Ira smiled. “Funny. For someone trying to act superior, you’re the one spewing desperation.
Do I look like I care about your insults?
I came here for work, and that’s exactly what I’m doing.
As for throwing me out, well, that’s Mr Rathore decision, not yours.
Besides…” she tilted her head“…he did throw you out of his room today. Yet here I am.”
Rani’s nostrils flared.
“You middle-class people and your pride.” she sneered.
“What can I say?” Ira shrugged. “We have dignity and reputation to protect. From the way you behaved today, it seems you’ve misplaced both.”
Rani’s fists curled, as she glared, But Ira’s tone only grew sterner.
“Let me put this in a language you’ll understand.
I came here for work. I already have a man I’m betrothed to, and I know exactly where my boundaries lie.
Do you?” Ira’s eyes narrowed slightly, her smile sharp.
“Last I checked, you’re Vivaan’s girlfriend.
Isn’t it too shameful to be circling another man?
Or are you just that unbothered by loyalty? ”
Rani stiffened, fury simmering under her painted expression. “Mind your fucking business.”
Ira arched a brow, then sighed. “Childish.”
With that, she turned and walked away, her steps steady and unhurried.
Rani’s glare followed her, venom dripping from every line of her body.
“Ugh, she’s so annoying.” She growled low before stomping off in the opposite direction.
~??????~
Ira pushed open the front door and slipped inside.
“Ira? Is that you?” her mother’s voice drifted from the kitchen.
Ira chuckled softly and walked in. “Yes, Ma.”
Her mother glanced up from chopping vegetables. “How was work?”
Ira hesitated, her smile faltering for just a second before she forced it back.
“It was fine.” she said lightly.
Her mother narrowed her eyes, reading her daughter’s face the way only a mother could. “Are you sure you’re okay, Ira?”
“I’m fine, Ma. Really.” Ira smiled again, but her voice carried the exhaustion she tried to hide.
Before her mother could press further, she headed upstairs.
~??????~
The Rathore mansion buzzed with quiet order as the maids set the dining table.
The family gathered around the long polished wood, silverware glinting under the warm lights.
“How’s the industry?” Mr. Rathore’s voice broke the silence, commanding from his seat at the head of the table.
Vivaan, seated at his father’s right, scooped a bite of paneer tikka masala onto his plate before answering with a smirk.
“Far from dying. The new movie lined up already caught the investors’ attention. And the last one? Profits soared, beyond what we put in. It was gold.”
Mr. Rathore gave a firm nod of approval.
“That’s my son.” Mrs. Rathore said proudly, her face softening. “The very first company you’ve been trusted to handle, and you’re already proving yourself.”
Vivaan rolled his eyes playfully at the praise but didn’t argue.
Across the table, Devraj ate quietly, his presence heavier than words.
“Devraj..” Mr. Rathore turned his sharp gaze to him, “I heard you secured the land at the city outskirts.”
Devraj didn’t lift his eyes. “It will serve the new project well. That location is perfect.” His deep, flat voice carried finality.
His father sighed but studied him closely, his expression unreadable.
“And how’s your treatment going?” Mr Rathore’s voice dropped lower. “Your mother mentioned a new caregiver. I’m surprised you haven’t chased her out already.”
Vivaan chuckled under his breath, earning a warning glance from his father.
Devraj’s hand stilled. He set down his spoon with deliberate calm, his dark eyes locking on his father’s.
“My treatment is going fine.” His voice was cold, but there was an edge beneath it.
Mrs. Rathore let out a nervous laugh, quickly trying to ease the thick silence that fell after Devraj’s words.
“That’s wonderful, Son. I’m glad you’re finally cooperating with someone.” he smiled,
Mrs Rathore eyes flicked anxiously between her husband and her eldest son.
Vivaan smirked, leaning back in his chair. “Cooperating? Or is she just too sweet to throw out? What’s her secret, bhai?” His tone was light, teasing.
Devraj’s eyes lifted slowly. The weight of his gaze made Vivaan’s smirk falter for a brief second.
“I don’t tolerate jokes at my expense.” His voice was flat and cold.
The table grew quiet again. Mr. Rathore cleared his throat, voice gruff. “Vivaan, enough.”
“Yes, papa.” Vivaan muttered.
Devraj’s jaw clenched. He said nothing, simply picked up his glass of water, sipping slowly.
His thoughts weren’t on the food, nor on the land deal, nor on his recovery.
They were on her, on Ira. The faint memory of her scent in his room, the lingering feel of her hands when she’d touched his legs.
He set his glass down with a quiet clink.
“Devraj allowed a caregiver. Let’s be thankful for that.” Mrs. Rathore said, her voice calm.
“I know. But it’s just… strange. My son, the Devraj I know, would never have allowed this.” Mr. Rathore said
Vivaan chuckled lightly as he scooped more food onto his plate.
“I don’t blame him, Papa. Ira is a walking beauty.”
The faint sound of metal against porcelain drew their attention for a second, Devraj’s grip on his spoon had tightened.
His jaw flexed, but he didn’t look up.
“Hm? Beauty, you say?” Mr. Rathore frowned. “Don’t let a pretty face fool you. Some women are nothing beyond that.”
“Oh no, not Ira.” Vivaan countered smoothly. “She’s gorgeous and smart. Modest, too. You hardly see women wear Anarkali or even simple kurtis these days, and she carries them so decently.”
The veins in Devraj’s hand strained against the skin as he gripped the edge of the dining table, knuckles whitening.
“Vivaan isn’t wrong.” Mrs. Rathore chimed in, a soft smile on her lips. “She radiates a good energy whenever I’m around her.”
“Oh, and that scent–” Vivaan began with a grin. “There’s this sweet smell she carries–”
“ENOUGH!”
The word thundered across the table. Devraj’s voice cracked and very raw, silencing everyone instantly.
The air stilled.
Mrs. Rathore froze with her fork halfway to her lips.
Vivaan blinked, startled.
Mr. Rathore’s eyes narrowed.
Devraj’s entire frame was taut, his chest rising and falling as if he were restraining something far darker than anger.
His spoon clattered against the plate as he forced it down.
“Devraj?” his mother asked softly, concern lacing her tone.
His eyes lifted, dark, burning, fixed directly on Vivaan.
“Stop.” His voice was low, seething.
“Bhai?” Vivaan frowned, confusion laced with unease. “Are you… alright?”
Devraj’s jaw worked as he pushed back from the table. “I’m done here.”
He wheeled himself away without another glance, his movements rigid, forceful.
The hallway swallowed him as he pressed the button for the elevator.
When the doors slid open, he rolled inside, his silence louder than any words, and the doors shut with a final, metallic thud.
The family was left in stunned quiet.
“Did we… say something wrong?” Vivaan muttered, breaking the silence.
Mr. Rathore leaned back, his gaze sharp, lingering on the path Devraj had taken. But he said nothing.