Chapter Twelve.
Ira and Kunal found a quiet bench tucked beneath a row of trees, the evening breeze carrying the faint scent of earth and blooming flowers.
She set her tote bag down first before easing herself onto the seat, her body relaxing into the cool wood.
Kunal followed, the muscles in his forearms flexing as he balanced a small cup of ice cream in one hand.
The moment they sat, he extended the cup toward her.
Ira’s face lit up, her lips curving into a grin as she accepted it. She scooped up a spoonful, placed it on her tongue, and her lashes fluttered at the sweetness.
“This is so good.” she murmured, licking her lips slowly, her voice softer than she realized.
Kunal leaned back, his gaze never leaving her.
The sight of her savoring something so simple made his heart beats faster.
Ira noticed his stare and gave a sheepish smile. “You didn’t get one for yourself?”
He chuckled, shifting lazily against the bench, his black shirt stretching slightly over his chest. “I don’t take sweet things, Ira.”
Her brows lifted. “I know you’re all about that strict diet, but… it’s just one time. Will it cause any harm?” She tilted her head, eyes gleaming mischievously as she took another spoonful.
His lips twitched. “If you’re consistent about discipline, even the smallest distraction can collapse it. And once it does, it’s hard to climb back.”
Ira frowned, then grinned knowingly. “So you’re worried you’ll get addicted and keep coming back for sweet things again and again?”
He chuckled at her teasing tone. “You love sweets, Ira. At some point, you’ll want to pull me into your world. I need the strength to resist.”
She gave him a mock glare. “What? I won’t influence you.”
“Really?” He raised a brow, voice amused. “On our first meet, you bought me sweets and made me eat an entire pack.”
“I…was nervous.” Ira admitted, her cheeks heating as she looked away.
“And two weeks ago, you showed up with a cupcake. When I refused, you got so sad I had to eat it just to see you smile.” He laughed
Ira ducked her head, scooping another bite. “I just thought… a little sweet in the body is good for the soul, you know?”
But before she could put the spoon to her lips, Kunal’s hand shot out, wrapping gently around her wrist.
Her breath caught as he guided the spoon away from her mouth and to his instead.
He leaned forward, as he tasted it, his gaze locked on hers the entire time.
Ira’s cheeks went crimson. “Y-you… don’t have to do that..” she whispered, her heart racing.
His tongue swept lightly across his bottom lip, savoring. “Maybe you’re right. A little sweet in the body is good. Especially when it’s from you.”
Her stomach fluttered violently. She turned her face away, hiding her blush, and he laughed softly, satisfied.
“You are so silly.” Ira muttered, shaking her head as she tried to hide the pink rising in her cheeks.
“And you..” Kunal leaned in with a grin, “are so cute.”
She rolled her eyes, though her smile betrayed her.
To distract herself, she quickly asked, “Anyways, how’s your mom doing? The last time you spoke about her, you said she was traveling.”
“Ah, yes.” He sighed, though fondness softened his tone. “She’s back now, and she hasn’t stopped going on and on about when you’ll finally come see her.”
Ira giggled, imagining the woman’s excitement.
“And don’t even get me started on all the gifts she’s already piling up.” he added, rubbing the back of his neck with mock exasperation. “We’re not even married yet, but she’s acting like the wedding is tomorrow.”
Ira’s cheeks burned, her lips curving into a shy smile. “Well… she’s a mother. They get excited about these things, especially anything involving their children.”
Kunal turned to her, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “So… you want us to get married now? That would make our mothers very happy.”
Her mouth fell open in shock. “That’s not what I meant!” she gasped, pouting as she swatted his arm lightly.
He chuckled at her flustered reaction, then leaned closer, his hand reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair from her face, tucking it gently behind her ear.
The warmth of his fingers lingered against her skin, sending a small shiver down her spine. Slowly, she looked up and met his eyes.
His voice dropped softer, sincere. “I’ll always wait until you’re ready, Ira. No pressure. Okay?”
Her heart softened at the tenderness in his gaze. She smiled, nodding. “Okay.”
“And for the record.” he continued, a grin spreading across his face, “I can’t wait to call you wifey.”
Ira couldn’t help it, she laughed, her lips tugging upward as her blush deepened.
“I really can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.” Kunal whispered, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand before he laced his fingers with hers.
He shifted closer, his warmth surrounding her, and gently pulled her against him.
Ira’s smile softened as she relaxed her head on his shoulder, the steady beat of his heart a comfort against her ear.
She took another small spoonful of her ice cream, her lips quirking with quiet happiness.
Kunal glanced at her, mischief sparking in his eyes. “You know..” he teased, “I think you’re enjoying that ice cream more than me.”
Ira gasped, playfully hitting his chest. “Stop it!”
But Kunal only laughed, lowering his head so his breath tickled her ear. “Don’t worry. I’ll just have to make you addicted to me instead.”
Ira hid her face against his shoulder, giggling uncontrollably.
But while laughter, moments and ice cream filled the air between them, neither noticed the shadow lingering in the distance.
A man crouched behind a line of bushes, his camera shutter clicking silently as he captured every smile, every touch, every stolen look between them.
The pictures would be delivered soon. Straight into Devraj’s hands.
~??????~
Kunal’s Mercedes-Benz rolled smoothly to a stop in front of Ira’s home.
He stepped out first, circling around with his usual gentlemanly ease, and opened the passenger door for her.
Ira stepped down, her tote bag hanging loosely from her shoulder, a faint smile curving her lips.
“Thank you for today, Kunal. I had fun… and I feel a bit more relaxed.”
“You’re welcome, sweetie..” he said warmly, brushing an invisible speck off her sleeve.
She giggled at the little gesture. “You should get going. Oh, and give my regards to your mom. Tell her… I might come see her soon.”
Kunal’s eyes brightened at that. “We’ll be expecting you.”
Ira nodded, returning his smile. With a soft wave, she turned toward her door.
Kunal lingered a moment, watching her with quiet affection before finally heading back to his side of the car.
Moments later, the engine hummed to life and the sedan slipped away into the street.
Still smiling faintly, Ira opened the door. But the moment she stepped inside and pushed it closed behind her...her breath froze in her throat.
Her mother sat stiffly on one side of the couch, hands clenched together, her face pale.
Her father was beside her, beads of sweat forming at his temple. Both of them looked up at Ira with wide, frightened eyes.
And then Ira’s gaze moved forward.
On the main couch, her father’s favorite seat, sat a man with the air of someone who believed the world owed him respect.
Mid-forties, broad-shouldered, draped in a kurta with a heavy scarf looped lazily around his neck.
His thick mustache twitched as he smirked, leaning back like a king on his throne.
Four men stood behind him, looming like shadows, their stares sharp and watchful.
Ira’s heart gave a small lurch. Instinctively, she set her jaw, masking the unease crawling through her.
She stepped further in. “What is going on here?” Her voice was firm, though her fingers tightened on her bag strap.
The man’s head turned toward her slowly, his eyes dragging across her in a way that made her skin crawl. A glimmer of dark amusement flickered there.
“Ira? You’re back.” her father stammered, his nervousness betraying him.
The stranger scratched his mustache, still staring. “And this must be your daughter.” His tone was both casual and assessing.
Ira’s glare sharpened, though a small knot of fear pulsed inside her.
She crossed the room quickly to stand by her father’s side, her gaze never leaving the men.
“Oh my God.” someone whispered.
Her head snapped toward the sound. One of the younger men sat beside the stranger, early twenties, maybe mid..was gawking at her openly, his eyes dripping with lust.
The way he looked at her made her stomach twist in disgust.
“Y..yes, this is my daughter.” her father answered finally, his voice hesitant.
The mustached man tilted his head, a cruel smile ghosting his lips.
“And you must be Mr. Tiwari..” Ira said, her voice steady though her pulse raced.
His brows rose in mild surprise, then he gave a slow nod. “Nice. So your father has told you about the debt he owes me.”
“Yes. We all know.” Her tone was polite but firm.
“Then I suppose he didn’t tell you.” Mr. Tiwari drawled, leaning forward slightly, “that today… is the due date.”
Ira’s eyes widened. She turned toward her father, searching his face, but he only looked down, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. A sick realization sank into her stomach.
“Papa…” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly.
Why didn't they say it was sooner? She thought.
Mr. Tiwari’s smirk widened as he watched her reaction, the young man beside him grinning hungrily at her.
Ira took a deep breath. Her trembling hands clenched into fists at her sides as she looked at Mr. Tiwari, forcing her voice not to crack.
“Please… give me until month end.” she said softly, almost whispering, but the desperation in her tone was enough to cut through the silence.
Mr. Tiwari leaned back, his thick fingers drumming lazily against his knee.
Then he burst into laughter, a cruel, throaty sound that echoed in the living room.
He threw a glance at his men, and they laughed along.
Her father’s arm came around her protectively, pulling her closer to his chest as if shielding her.
Ira felt the way his body shook, not from weakness, but from the helplessness he carried.
“Did you hear that? Month end..” Mr. Tiwari mocked, tossing the words to his goons like scraps to hungry dogs.
Their laughter rose again, filling Ira’s ears until she thought she’d choke on it.
Then, just as suddenly, Mr. Tiwari’s face hardened. His smile vanished, his eyes turning into dark stones.
“Listen up, girl.” His voice was low, laced with menace. “Either we get our pay today… or I take your father with me.”
Ira’s eyes widened, her throat tightening so fast she could barely breathe.
“Please… please, don’t. Listen..” her voice cracked, but she forced herself forward, her palms out, “I promise, I’ll pay you myself. Just… please, give me until month end. We don’t have the money right now.”
Mr. Tiwari’s nostrils flared as his lip curled in disgust. “Four months..” he spat, each word like a lash.
“I’ve already given your father four months past his due. And now you ask me to wait again?” His voice rose, furious, and Ira flinched.
Her knees nearly buckled, but she clasped her hands together, lowering her head in pleading. “Please… I beg you. I will pay, I swear. Just… just until month end.” Her voice was trembling now, but steady with resolve.
Mr. Tiwari studied her with a predator’s patience, his gaze slithering over her as a smirk slowly crept back to his face.
“And if you don’t pay by then?” he asked, his tone almost mocking.
“I will.” Ira whispered, forcing the words out past the lump in her throat. “I promise.”
His smirk deepened into something darker, crueler. “If you don’t…” He leaned forward, his eyes gleaming. “We will come for you. You will belong to us. How’s that?”
A shiver ran down Ira’s spine.
“Yes, yes, Papa.” A younger voice cut in, sly and eager. Ira turned her head back to the young man beside Mr. Tiwari.
His lips curved in a hungry grin. “She can be with me too. How about… we take her now?”
The room seemed to close in on Ira as bile rose in her throat.
Mr. Tiwari glanced at his son and laughed, the sound rattling with approval. “You seem to like her. You want her, son?”
Ira’s stomach twisted in disgust. The way they bartered over her, as if she were nothing but property, made her skin crawl.
Her jaw trembling with fury she dared not unleash.
“You are not having my daughter.” her father’s voice boomed, his grip around her protective and desperate. “You will get your money by the end of this month.”
Mr. Tiwari’s laughter died down. He and his son exchanged a glance before their eyes slid back to Ira.
“Because it’s you..” Mr. Tiwari finally said, pointing at her with a crooked smile, “I’ll allow it.
You have until the end of this month. If not…
” He tilted his head toward his son, who was still staring at Ira like a wolf sizing up his prey.
“…my boy here needs a new doll. And you, girl, are perfect.”
Ira’s blood boiled, her tongue burning with the urge to spit insults at them, but she swallowed it back. Not now. Instead, she lifted her chin, her voice steady, though her heart was pounding in her ears.
“Don’t worry. You’ll get your money.”
A low chuckle came from the son, his dark eyes fixed on her. “I like you.” he murmured.
Her breath caught as his gaze lingered, unblinking, predatory.
He was handsome, yes..but beneath the charm was a shadow that clung to him. His smirk never wavered, and Ira felt a chill crawl over her skin, as if he had already claimed her in his mind.
Mr. Tiwari lifted his hand, a silent command. His men obeyed immediately, stepping out one after another until the room was swallowed by a heavy stillness.
He adjusted his scarf, his eyes locking on Ira with a warning smirk.
“Month end..” he said simply, with that, he turned and began to walk away.
But his son lingered. He didn’t follow immediately, instead, he stepped closer, each stride deliberate, his gaze never leaving Ira.
Instinctively, she shifted back, her father’s arm tightening protectively around her, her mother clutching her other side, her grip surprisingly firm for trembling hands.
The young man’s expression darkened, shadows filling his eyes. He leaned just close enough that Ira could feel the coldness in his presence.
“It will be fun breaking you, i love redheads. Feisty and a screamer.” he murmured, lips curling into a smirk before finally turning away to follow his father.
The door shut behind them, and the silence that followed was suffocating.
Ira let out a shaky breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, her body trembling with relief.
Her mother squeezed her arm gently, grounding her, while her father slowly sank into the chair as if the weight of the world had been dropped on his back.
He lowered his head into his hands, shoulders sagging, and when he finally looked up, his eyes were red, glassy with tears.
“I’m sorry.” his voice broke, hoarse and heavy with shame. “This is all my fault. I should never have taken that loan. I thought… I trusted my friend to help, but it was a fraud. I didn’t see it until it was too late. I’m so sorry, Ira.”
Ira’s chest ached. She sank down beside him, gently wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him close.
His familiar scent of old wood and machine oil clung to him, the smell of years in the workshop.
“Papa..” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
“I’m not blaming you. None of this is your fault. You only trusted the wrong person, that doesn’t make you guilty. Please… don’t put all this weight on yourself. You’ve been fighting enough already, especially with your health.”
Her mother knelt beside them, her hand rubbing soothing circles on her husband’s back, though her own face was drawn with worry.
“You did what any father would do.” she said softly. “You only wanted the best for us. Don’t punish yourself for that.”
But he shook his head, his hand trembling as it rested over Ira’s. “Ira… I don’t want you dragged into this darkness. This isn’t your burden to carry. I’ve failed us, and now it’s swallowing us whole. I’m so sorry.” His tears finally slipped free, streaking down his cheeks.
Ira smiled sadly and leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “You didn’t drag me into anything, Papa. I’m your daughter. Whatever touches you or anyone of you, touches me too.”
Her father broke, his sob muffled as he clutched Ira tighter.
For a moment, she let him cry against her shoulder, her mother’s arms wrapping around both of them in a fragile embrace.
When he finally pulled back, his voice was weak. “Maybe I should sell the workshop… use whatever money we can get to pay half of it. At least that way…”
“No, Papa.” Ira cut in, shaking her head firmly as she broke from his arms just enough to look him in the eyes.
“No. Don’t you dare give up the one thing you’ve built with your hands. That workshop is your life, your blood, your pride. Selling it won’t fix this, it will only break you more.”
“Besides, you know how much i will be getting from this my work, I promise I’ll pay him by the end of this month.”
Her father’s lips trembled as fresh tears filled his eyes.
Ira swallowed her own fear. She pulled back and glanced at her mother, who gave her a small, brave smile.
“Where’s Raghav?” Ira asked softly.
“Still at the workshop.” her mother replied, her voice steadier now.
Ira nodded slowly, She had no idea how, but one thing was certain, she would not let her family be destroyed.
Mr Tiwari is a very dangerous man and his son is known to be a sadistic psycho.
??????