Chapter Eleven.
Ira returned with a tray of steaming breakfast, parathas, aloo sabzi, and a small bowl of chutney..
Her steps careful. She set it gently on the small table beside Devraj’s chair, her movements precise, almost rehearsed.
He was back on his wheelchair again.
“Here, sir.” she said softly, retreating two, maybe three steps back.
She didn’t even realize it, but that little distance was enough to twist something ugly inside Devraj. His fingers curled hard around the armrest of his wheelchair, veins straining.
Why was she stepping away from him? Why did she look like she needed to breathe easier without being too close?
The rage that flickered through him was silent and yet, he locked his jaw instead of showing it.
His eyes, however, burned.
The truth was, he had lied. Her scent hadn’t irritated him..God, it was the opposite.
That faint sweetness, light but lingering, clung to the air like an invisible chain he wanted wrapped around his throat.
The way it filled his lungs, teased his control, pulled him closer to drowning… he both craved it and despised himself for craving it.
The silence pounder, only broken by the clink of silverware as he finally picked up a spoon.
“Why did you leave your previous work, Ira?” Devraj asked suddenly.
His voice was calm, but the question struck her like a surprise blow.
Ira blinked, thrown. “Uh… it didn’t suit me well, sir.” She forced a polite smile, keeping her tone light.
She wanted this conversation short, efficient.
But why was he suddenly interested in her past?
“Why?” he pressed, as if her first answer wasn’t enough.
Her brows furrowed. “Um…” She hesitated. His eyes were fixed on her, dark, unrelenting.
One of the rule in the contract specifically stated that personal matters were off-limits..so why was he digging? Why did he want to know?
“The pay was too small.” she said finally, a quick lie.
Devraj’s spoon froze halfway. His eyes flicked up to hers.
“So it was about the money?” His voice hardened, carrying a dangerous tone beneath that made Ira’s stomach tighten.
“No, not just that…” she said quickly, trying to balance the lie without making it sound too defensive.
His gaze stayed locked on her, trying to find what was really beneath.
The weight of his stare made her chest heavy, her palms damp.
“The money I’m paying you.” he said after a long pause, “isn’t enough either?”
Her breath caught. “N-no, sir! You have no idea how much your offer helps me. I’m grateful. Truly.” Her voice cracked slightly, betraying how uneasy she felt under that sharp gaze.
Devraj’s eyes lingered on her, dark, and Ira had to force herself not to shift under their weight.
Then, without warning, his next question came:
“How long have you been with him? Kunal.”
Ira’s lips parted in shock. She blinked, startled by the sudden personal intrusion.
What was wrong with him today?
“I’m sorry, sir, but…” her voice steadied as she drew on her professionalism, “…my personal life isn’t part of our arrangement. It was clearly stated in the contract you gave me that I signed.”
The moment she said it, she realized her mistake.
Devraj’s jaw clenched hard, the muscles ticking. His grip on the spoon was so tight.
“Don’t throw that contract in my face.” he said through his teeth, his tone edged with a venomous restraint.
Ira’s throat tightened. She lowered her eyes, instantly regretting her words. “I apologize, sir. That wasn’t my intention. And I’m not—”
“Enough..” he cut her off sharply. He shoved the plate slightly away. “Take this away. I’m done.”
The food was barely touched. Ira swallowed her confusion, quickly gathering the tray.
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak, and turned for the door.
As she left, her thoughts swirled in a storm. Why is he asking me these things? First, who dropped me off. Then my last job. Now my relationship with Kunal…
Devraj’s burning gaze followed her until the door clicked shut.
And only then, with the silence pressing down, did he let his hand tremble faintly against the armrest.
He hated how much he needed her answers. Hated it, but needed them all the same.
"Stupid woman.” Devraj muttered. “Using a stupid contract against me.”
Just then, his phone buzzed. Advik.
Devraj snatched it up.
“Raj.” Advik’s voice came through, casual at first, “I’ve sent it to your mail. But man, listen– Ira has no records with bad people, okay? Stop doubting her and her husband-to–”
Devraj hung up before he could finish. He didn’t want to hear Advik’s words. He didn’t need comfort, didn’t need reason.
He opened his laptop with impatient fingers, his movements stiff, controlled only by the threadbare leash of his temper.
The mail was already there. He clicked.
And then Kunal’s smiling face filled the screen.
Devraj’s lip curled. Irritation flared into a hot pulse beneath his skin.
He scrolled down, each line of information cutting into him.
Name.
Age.
Parents’ names.
Siblings.
His job. The company his family managed. His role as the eldest son.
It was clean. All clean.
Too clean.
Kunal was everything a man was supposed to be, handsome, respectable, well-off, admired. A picture-perfect groom.
Devraj’s jaw tightened until his temple throbbed.
Was that why she like him? Because he was a..perfect man? He's not even that rich.
Then he saw the part he dreaded but couldn’t look away from.
Relationship status: Engaged-to-be.
Next to it–a photograph. Kunal’s arm around Ira, her smile soft and radiant, leaning ever so slightly toward him.
Devraj’s chest caved and expanded all at once. Jealousy slashed through him.
Hatred followed fast, wrapping its claws around his ribcage until he thought it would shatter him from the inside.
His hand trembled against the keyboard. He wanted to rip the screen apart.
To smash it until nothing remained. Maybe if the laptop was destroyed, Kunal would be destroyed too.
Erased.
Wiped clean from existence.
“Stupid woman!” His voice cracked like a whip across the room. “Stupid, stupid, stupid!” He slammed his fist against the table. “I hate how you invade me… and that bastard!”
He forced himself back, forcing the rage into something tighter, more controlled, but not gone.
The air was still heavy with her faint scent, clinging stubbornly to his walls themselves. That invisible chain tugged at him again.
He closed his eyes. Inhaled.
It wasn’t enough.
It would never be enough.
I’m hanging on a loose thread, he thought bitterly.
And when his eyes snapped open again, his pupils constricted, and in that instant, Devraj was a storm caged in flesh, moments away from tearing through his bars.
~??????~
“Few more minutes to go, sir..” Ira said gently, her eyes darting from the timer in her hand to the man on the treadmill.
Devraj’s breathing was rough, ragged, each step pounding against the belt as if his body was defying him.
Ira could see the strain in his legs, the way his muscles trembled.
Her chest tightened. He looks like he’s in pain… should I stop it? No… if I interfere, he’ll just snap at me again.
She bit her lip, forcing herself to wait for the timer.
But before it could hit zero, Devraj’s leg gave out. His body lurched forward, his balance lost.
The sound of his stumble, then the hard thud of him falling onto the treadmill, ripped through the room.
“Sir!” Ira gasped. She dropped the timer and rushed to him, heart racing.
She crouched at his side, her hand trembling slightly as she reached for him.
His breaths were fast but shallow. He lifted his head, and for a moment his eyes locked on hers.
They weren’t just tired eyes, they were wild, stormy and almost consuming.
“Do you need help, sir?” she asked carefully, her voice soft but urgent.
Devraj’s gaze didn’t move away. He seemed caught, pinned between the agony of his body and the ache of something deeper.
“Yes..” he whispered, the single word so raw it almost didn’t sound like him.
Relief spread across Ira’s face. She nodded quickly and set aside her hesitation.
Sliding her arm under his, she tugged, looping it across her shoulders. Her other hand braced firmly at his waist.
Devraj shivered the instant her touch settled on him. A current shot through his veins, setting every nerve alight.
Ira strained, pulling him up.
Oh my God, he’s so heavy! she thought, her muscles protesting as she steadied him.
But determination held her up as she guided him carefully back to his wheelchair.
When he finally lowered into the seat, she exhaled, sweat dotting her brow.
I think I'm gaining weight, lifting him got me out of breath. she thought
She straightened, ready to step back.
But his hand shot out.
His fingers wrapped around her wrist.
Ira froze. She glanced down at him, expecting maybe he needed more support.
But when her eyes met his, she realized, he wasn’t asking for help. He was holding her.
“Sir?” she said softly, confusion edging into her tone.
Devraj’s chest rose and fell, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.
The warmth of her skin beneath his palm, the fragile bone of her wrist, the pulse beating faintly there, it was intoxicating.
His jaw clenched as if fighting something, but still he didn’t let go.
“Can I… have my wrist back, sir?” Ira asked, her voice still polite.
Devraj’s gaze flickered from her face to her lips, then back to her eyes.
The weight of his stare pressed heavy on her. He gulped, the struggle in him clear, and finally loosened his grip.
“Take me back.” he ordered abruptly, his tone sharp to cover what he was feeling.
Ira blinked, then nodded quickly. She passed him a bottle of water, her fingers brushing his for a fleeting second that sent another jolt through him.
Then she stepped behind the chair, her hands steady on the handles as she wheeled him out.
Devraj drank, but the water did nothing to cool the fire spreading inside him.
Her touch… her scent… she doesn’t even know what she’s doing to me.
~??????~
The day had slipped by quickly, almost too quickly. The golden light of the afternoon streamed through the tall windows, painting warm streaks across the floor.
Ira glanced at the clock, it was nearly time for her to leave.
Gathering her courage, she stepped toward Devraj.
He was seated on the bed, laptop open before him, his sharp eyes scanning the screen with an intensity that made her hesitate at first.
“Sir…” Ira began softly.
Devraj’s head lifted at once, his stare locking onto her.
The weight of his gaze made her scared, but she pressed on.
“Um… according to the schedule, tomorrow morning you’ll be getting a maalish wali (you guys, did i get it right?), a professional masseuse. She’ll come after your morning exercises.”
His brows knitted. “And why will one be here? Can't you handle it?”
“Because you need it, sir and no i dont know how to give that.” Ira said carefully, folding her dupatta nervously. “Your legs are responding slowly now, and that’s important progress. Regular massage will help improve circulation.”
For a second, his frown deepened, like her words were an offense.
But before she could gauge his mood further, her phone vibrated on the edge of the couch.
The sound pierced the silence.
Ira glanced at the caller ID. Her stomach knotted. She gulped, quickly turning the screen face down.
“I should be going now, sir. Have a good day.” She spoke faster than she intended, already stepping back toward her bag.
Kunal must be waiting outside now.. she thought
Devraj’s eyes narrowed. His jaw flexed. “Why are you rushing, Ira?” His voice was low, controlled, too controlled.
Her feet faltered. She turned “Because… it’s time for me to leave. And… someone is waiting for me. That’s why I’m in a hurry.”
The muscles in his neck tightened. His gaze sharpened. “Kunal?” he bit out.
Her lips parted, but she only nodded faintly.
Devraj’s body went rigid. His fingers curled tight against the laptop edge until his knuckles whitened. “It’s not three yet.” he snapped.
Ira blinked, startled. “Um… sir, it is three. Already.” She gestured faintly toward the clock.
Devraj’s eyes flicked to his phone. The digital time glowed mockingly back at him.
His jaw clenched so hard a vein ticked in his temple.
Heat surged through his chest. She’s leaving me, for him.
“You…” His voice trembled with something between fury and desperation. “You can’t go.”
Ira froze, her brows knitting. “W-what?” she whispered.
“You can’t leave… not yet. I still need help around here. I…” Devraj’s jaw tightened. “I want to exercise again by four. I need you here.”
Ira frowned. “Sir, you don’t need any more today. You already did the two most important exercises. That’s enough until tomorrow.”
“Is it because of him?” Devraj’s voice cracked with jealousy. “Because he’s waiting?”
“What? Sir?” Ira blinked in confusion. “This is my time to leave. It’s the same yesterday, and the day before… it’s even in the contract. Also Mrs. Rathore approved it from the beginning, she gave the time.”
His teeth ground together. So eager to leave me? To run to him? isn't she suppose to take care of me?The thought burned through him.
“Leave.”
That single word came out low, furious.
Ira nodded quickly, grateful he’d agreed. She slipped to the door.
“See you tomorrow, sir.”
The door clicked shut.
Devraj’s hands trembled violently. His chest rose and fell in jagged breaths.
Does he hold her hands the way I do? Does he touch her hair? Breathe in her scent?
A growl escaped his throat.
“Stupid woman.” he whispered, his voice almost broken.
◆◇◇◆
Ira reached the gate where the same guard stood. She offered him a smile, and he opened it for her.
Outside, she spotted Kunal leaning casually against his car, eyes glued to his phone.
The sound of her ringtone buzzed in her hand, and she giggled.
“Kunal!” she called.
His head snapped up, and he let out a relieved sigh.
“I was beginning to think they were holding you captive in there.” he teased.
Ira laughed, shaking her head. “Don’t be silly.”
He smiled, walked around to open the door for her, and waited until she slid in before shutting it gently. Moments later, he joined her behind the wheel.
“Hope work wasn’t too stressful today.” she asked as he started the car.
“I should be asking you that.” he replied warmly.
“Nah, I’m fine. Just the usual routine.” she said with a soft shrug.
Kunal drove them out onto the main road, the late afternoon sun painting the windshield gold.
“So, where do you want to go?” he asked.
Ira giggled, tilting her head. “Maybe the park? I don’t know. But I want ice cream… somewhere with a cool breeze.”
“Anything you want.” he promised with a smile.
Her lips curved, but then her expression faltered. She glanced at him with a frown.
“Wait… Kunal. Do I smell bad?”
The question caught him off guard. His brows drew together, and he flicked his gaze at her before returning it to the road.
“Why would you even ask that? You don’t smell bad, Ira. If anything…” his voice dipped low, “…your scent drives me crazy.”
Heat crept up her cheeks, and she looked away, flustered.
“I just… my boss said it irritates him.” she admitted.
“That’s odd.” Kunal said, glancing at her with a small smile. “But trust me, you smell far from bad. You’ve got this… calm, alluring scent. It’s crazy you don’t even use perfume.”
Ira’s cheeks warmed instantly, her blush climbing up her neck.
“Maybe your boss has lost his sense of smell… just like he lost his legs.” Kunal teased, smirking.
Ira gasped, then broke into laughter. “Kunal! That’s terrible. Don’t say that.”
He rolled his eyes playfully. “Okay, my lady. Anything you say.”
She giggled, shaking her head, the tension melting into comfort.
Devraj’s jaw ticked as he stared at the laptop screen, the CCTV footage rolling in real time.
His eyes darkened at the sight of Ira stepping through the gates, her smile shining as though she had finally exhaled.
The sight of Kunal waiting for her made his stomach coil in rage.
Too close. Way too close.
He watched, hollow fury in his chest, as the car pulled away.
Without hesitation, he grabbed his phone and dialed.
Two rings.
“Sir.” a voice answered.
“Follow them. And give me everything.” Devraj said, his tone like a blade.
He ended the call and dropped the phone onto the bed, chest heaving as jealousy bled into something far darker.
??????