Chapter Ten.
Ira had just finished bathing. Dressed in her nightwear, a towel draped over her damp hair, she walked over to her phone when it chimed.
A message.
From an unknown number.
Her brows knitted. She swiped it open.
"Ira."
Just her name. Nothing else.
What the...? She bit her lip, fingers hovering before typing a cautious reply.
Hello? Who is this?
She set the phone back on the bed, frowning, and crossed the room.
With a soft tug, she drew the blinds shut, the night pressing against the glass.
The bright ceiling light clicked off, plunging the room into a softer glow.
She removed the towel from her hair and was just about to slip beneath the covers when her phone rang.
The screen lit up: Unknown Number.
Her chest tightened. She hesitated, then answered.
"Hello?" Her voice was uncertain.
Silence.
Only... breathing. Deep and heavy one.
"Hello? Who is this?" She pressed the phone closer, straining to hear.
The breathing grew harsher, almost like a growl in her ear. She pulled the phone back, staring at the digits on the screen.
"Hello?" she tried one last time.
The call ended. Abruptly.
Ira sat there, unsettled, staring at the phone in her hand.
Slowly, she glanced toward the bedside clock.
The numbers blinked in soft pink, a small, ordinary detail.
"Wrong number, maybe?" she whispered to herself, and shrugged.
She set the phone aside and slipped into bed, pulling the covers higher than usual.
~~???????~~
His room was drowned in darkness. Devraj sat in his wheelchair near the balcony doors, the cold night air brushing against his skin.
The phone was still in his hand, his grip so tight his knuckles strained white.
Advik's voice rang in his head. "Damn. She's even more appealing in person."
Then Vivaan's. "She's gorgeous and smart."
Devraj's jaw locked, his body trembling with the effort to contain himself.
"Oh, and that scent..."
His veins stood out on his hand as the memory twisted tighter, feeding the fire inside him.
"There's this sweet smell she carries-"
The phone cracked just a little beneath his grip.
"Stupid woman." he hissed into the dark, his teeth bared.
"Stupid. This is how you trap men, isn't it? Flaunting your beauty. Making them hunger after you. Do you... like it? Do you enjoy them watching you?"
His chest rose and fell with ragged breaths, his shadow stretched across the floor like something monstrous.
In the silence of his room, his fury festered.
He shut his eyes, dragging in a slow breath.
Empty.
The room was empty of her.
Her scent, that faint, sweet trace of her, was gone, and the void it left made his chest burn.
His fingers tightened against the armrest of his wheelchair until the leather creaked.
I want that smell again...
His jaw flexed, hatred and longing twisting together.
He hated this weakness, hated how badly he craved the ghost of her fragrance like an addict slowly getting starved of a drug.
And worse still, he wanted her touch. That soft, unthinking brush of her fingers that could undo him in an instant.
Today, he wanted her to help him more, to lean closer, to steady him with her hands.
But even thinking of it now made his muscles tremble. Her touch did that. And he loathed himself for it.
He didn't want her to see it, to know how she was slowly breaking him without even trying.
Yet in the darkest corner of his mind, a poisonous whisper:
If she asked more, if she even hinted to come closer, I'd let her touch me however she wanted...
Devraj's head fell back against the chair. His eyes fluttered shut.
And there she was.
Ira.
Smiling at him in the dark of his own mind, the vision of her shimmering like a lure.
Then..
"Kunal..."
The name cracked through the vision like glass shattering.
Devraj's eyes snapped open, rage searing through him.
"She has a man..." The thought thundered in his skull.
His grip on the chair hardened until veins stood out on his forearms.
The heat in his blood became a boil.
Jealousy? hunger? fury?
All bleeding together until his breathing came ragged. This was eating him alive slowly maybe even gotten deep into him and its all started with that scent of hers.
He turned his face toward the window, the moonlight spilling over his features.
"Iraaaa..." he whispered, the sound a low, drawn-out growl, as if the name itself burned his tongue.
~~??????~~
Ira skipped down the stairs, adjusting her Anarkali and the soft fall of her dupatta over her shoulder, tote bag clutched in hand.
Her father's voice drifted up from the sitting room.
He was speaking with someone. When she reached the bottom step, she smiled brightly.
"Good morning, Papa." she greeted, leaning in to hug him.
But as her eyes flicked to the man standing beside him, her breath caught.
"Kunal? You're here? You didn't tell me you were coming!" Ira gasped, warmth lighting her face.
"Well.." her father cut in, "he said he wants to take you to work today."
Ira blushed, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear.
"Papa, aren't you going to the workshop?"
"Nah, my dear. Raghav will handle things today." He sipped his ginger tea, waving her off.
Ira furrowed instinctively.
"Don't worry about me. Go on, get to work. And be careful, both of you." he added, giving Kunal a firm look.
Kunal bent slightly, touching her father's leg for blessing before straightening again with a smile.
Ira hugged her father one last time, pressing a kiss to his cheek, then followed Kunal out.
~~~
"Why didn't you tell me you'd be picking me up?" Ira asked as he opened the car door for her.
"Is it bad I came?" His brows drew together.
"No! That's not what I meant. It's just..." She smiled sheepishly. "Ritika always drops me off. I would've told her not to bother if I knew you'd be here."
Kunal chuckled softly, closing the door once she slid inside. He circled the car, got in on the driver's side, and shot her a sideways look.
"Well, you can text her now." he said, voice lowering with a playful authority. "Tell her your soon-to-be husband is dropping you off today... and I'll be the one picking you up after work."
Ira's eyes widened, her lips parting. A flush crept up her cheeks.
She cleared her throat.
"But Kunal? I finish by three, and you don't close until five. Are you sure, you can come pick me up?" Ira said, brows arching with curiosity.
He only shrugged, lips curving in a smile. "Exactly. That's why I want to spend a little time with you today after work. As for me, I already told my father I had something important to take care of."
Ira giggled, shaking her head. "Lying to get off work, I see." Her grin was playful.
"No, Ira.." he said, his tone shifting to seriousness. His gaze lingered on her, warm enough to make her pulse quicken. "You are very important to me."
Her heart stuttered, then raced. Before she could say anything, Kunal leaned closer.
Ira's breath caught as he reached across her, brushing near enough to make her blush burn hotter.
With a soft click, he fastened her seatbelt for her, his arm grazing lightly against her.
"Gosh.." she thought as she quickly turned her face toward the window, trying to steady herself.
I thought he was going to...
Her cheeks heated even more, her heartbeat drumming wildly in her ears.
Kunal only smiled to himself as he started the car, while Ira sat flustered, palms pressed together on her lap, silently trying to calm her racing heart.
The car ignite to life, and they drove off.
??????
"I'll come pick you up by three, okay?" Kunal promised, his smile soft.
Ira nodded, lips curving gently. "Be careful while driving. " she said, reaching for the handle.
Before she could pull away, Kunal leaned in and brushed a kiss against her cheek.
Heat rushed up her face, and she glanced at him wide-eyed. He only smiled shyly, then she slipped out of the car.
Her blush deepened, her dupatta fluttering in the morning breeze.
Kunal's gaze lingered, tender, almost reverent. He watched her walk toward the gates, his heart swelling with affection.
But then his eyes lifted.
The grandeur of the Rathore estate loomed before him, and suddenly the warmth in his chest chilled.
He swallowed hard, his hands tightening on the wheel.
Behind the tall iron gates, a guard stood. Black shades concealed his eyes, but the stare felt like it cut right through Kunal's chest.
A shiver crawled up his spine.
"This family..." he thought forcing his gaze back to Ira's retreating figure as she walked further inside.
"They scare the hell out of me. I just hope she's safe in there."
He started the car and drove off, though the unease clung to him.
The guard's eyes tracked the vehicle until it disappeared down the road.
Then, with mechanical precision, he turned and stepped into a small security outpost.
Picking up a black phone, he murmured in a clipped tone:
"A car dropped her off today, sir."
He hung up, his gaze shifting back to the distant mansion, as Ira approaches it.
??????
"Goddess!"
The voice made Ira's shoulders tense even before she looked up. She didn't need to guess who it was.
"Good morning, Vivaan." she said with a sigh, her tone polite but weary.
He sauntered toward her with the casual confidence of a man who knew he was attractive.
A fitted white shirt, two buttons undone, revealed the sharp line of his collarbone.
Expensive trousers, a Rolex catching the light, and his wavy hair styled with deliberate care.
He was the image of charming arrogance.
"You were smiling when you walked in." Vivaan said, eyes narrowing playfully. "What's the secret? Did you win a jackpot?"
Ira gulped, forcing her eyes away as the faintest blush betrayed her.
But it vanished as quickly as it came. "Maybe I did" she replied smoothly. "And why are you dressed like that?"
"Dressed like what?" he smirked, his gaze down his own attire, then back to her, his grin widening. "Like temptation disguised as tradition."
"I look handsome, right? Want a picture?" he teased, striking a mock pose.
Ira rolled her eyes.
He chuckled at her reaction. "Well, I'm not just a star, sweetheart. I'm a film mogul." He threw in a wink for emphasis.
Ira arched a brow. "Wow. That's... impressive." Her tone was polite.
Vivaan grinned. "It fascinates me that you don't even know who I am. Don't you watch the news or something or internet updates?"
"I do." Ira replied smoothly, adjusting her dupatta.
"But only important things. I don't waste time digging into celebrities' lives like most people do online. And I rarely watch movies. I'm more of a reader."
Vivaan tilted his head, intrigued. "Interesting. No wonder you weren't fangirling when you first came here."
Ira gave a small nod.
"So... no crushes at all? Not even a celebrity one?" he pressed, still fishing for a reaction.
She gave him a pointed look. "Why would I crush on someone who doesn't even know I exist?"
Vivaan burst into laughter. "Damn, you're something else. Hard to please, sharp-tongued, and still so modest. Any man would kill to have you."
Ira let out a soft sigh. "I already have a man, Vivaan amd he didnt kill anyone. Why would any sane man do that?" she said,
Then she softened her tone politely. "And you should probably get going, you're running late." She offered a small smile and turned to walk away.
Vivaan froze, his grin slipping. "Wait..what? You have a man?!" His voice cracked with genuine shock.
Ira only chuckled under her breath, her bangles chiming faintly as she disappeared up the stairs, leaving him standing there with wide eyes.
???????
Ira got to Devraj's door and knocked gently, her knuckles tapping twice.
Silence. She tried again, louder this time.
Still nothing.
A faint frown creased her forehead. Carefully, she turned the knob and pushed the door open, stepping inside.
The vast room greeted her with its familiar stillness, but the emptiness unsettled her.
She set her bag on the couch and glanced around. "Sir?" Her voice echoed softly.
No reply.
"Mr. Rathore?" she called again, her tone more tentative.
She walked toward the bathroom, hesitating before raising her hand to knock.
"Mr. Rathore?" Still silence. The quiet pressed in on her, making her chest tighten.
"Where did he go?" she murmured under her breath, scanning the space, unease curling in her stomach.
Then
"Ira?"
Her name rolled across the room.
She gasped and spun around, her heart jerking in her chest.
Devraj was there, at the threshold, his wheelchair cutting a striking silhouette against the light spilling from the hallway.
His dark eyes locked onto her, intense.
She released a shaky sigh, clutching at her chest. "G-good morning, sir. I..I just came in and didn't see you, so I thought maybe you were-"
"Who dropped you today?"
The interruption cut through her explanation.
Ira blinked at him, thrown off.
"Kunal, my fiancé-to-be, sir." Her voice softened at the end, unsure why she felt the need to explain herself.
She didn't notice the way his fingers curled into a fist against the armrest, the veins rising beneath his skin.
His jaw flexed, and his eyes darkened.
His tone turned cold. "Go get my breakfast."
She nodded quickly.
"Yes, sir." She started toward the door, her steps quick, eager to escape the strange tension simmering in the air.
As she passed, he suddenly said "And stop using that perfume. It's irritating my nose. I hate it."
Ira froze, her lips parting in shock.
Perfume? I don't even use one.
Her mind reeled. She never wore any. She only used a vanilla body lotion and the Jasmine oil for her hair..
was he mistaking that? Do I smell bad? She swallowed her confusion and forced herself to nod, not daring to meet his eyes. "Yes, sir."
She slipped out, her heart pounding, leaving the heavy silence behind.
The moment the door closed, Devraj wheeled himself further into the room, his eyes stormy.
His chest rose and fell with restrained fury.
He went to his bed, transferring himself onto it with slow, practiced effort.
He snatched his laptop from the nightstand. Picking up his phone, he dialed a number, his grip so tight on the device his knuckles whitened.
After two rings, Advik's voice came through, casual. "Raj? I told you-"
"I need you to get me all the information you can on Kunal Mehra. Now." Devraj's voice was stern.
Advik hesitated. "Kunal? That name sounds familiar but not in our-"
"Do what I asked you to do." Devraj snapped, his tone brooking no argument.
"The fuck is wrong with you?" Advik's voice rose, incredulous. "I just remembered-that's Ira's fiancé-to-be. Are you still doubting her? Raj, this is-"
"I need the report in one hour."
The finality in his voice was like steel slamming shut. He hung up before Advik could answer.
For a long moment, Devraj sat there. His mind was a battlefield, jealousy clawing at reason.
He heard the way Ira had said fiancé-to-be. Soft. Warm. Affectionate. It made his stomach churn with a rage he couldn't name.
What made this Kunal so special, how did they met? Was he...her type??
Ira
???