Chapter Thirteen.
Late at night..
Pictures after pictures… The more Devraj scrolled through the images sent to him, the tighter his grip on the phone became.
He stopped at the one where Kunal leaned forward, stealing a bite of ice cream from Ira’s spoon.
His jaw clenched. His fingers curled so hard around the device.
With a low exhale, Devraj dropped the phone onto the bed beside him and leaned back against the headrest.
His chest rose and fell. The room was dark except for the moonlight shining through the window, a soft glow cutting across his face.
“She likes ice cream…” he muttered, eyes still closed, the words were more like a confession than an observation.
“Devraj?”
The voice was soft almost teasing.
His eyes snapped open and looked ahead.
“I…Ira?”
There she was. Standing at the edge of his bed, glowing where the moonlight caught her.
She smiled, that same calm, devastating smile, and crossed the room until she sat beside him.
“How are you feeling?” she asked softly.
Devraj stared, silent and stunned.
She giggled softly and raised a hand to touch his face. He shivered before he could stop himself.
“I…it’s you…” he breathed, the sound breaking against his throat.
Her smile stayed, but her eyes widened as his hand shot up, wrapping around her wrist, dragging her closer.
Instead of trying to pull away, this Ira laughed.
“Can’t contain your darkest desire, huh?” she murmured.
“You’re here..” he growled. “With me. Not with him…” His eyes darkened and his arms locked around her waist, pulling her against his chest.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me..” He admitted whispering, “but I need you, Ira. Every cell in my body, every breath I take, yearns for you. I don’t know what you did to me…but I don’t want it to stop.”
He buried his face against her hair, inhaling. “All of you..” he almost growled. “I want all of you.”
But suddenly she wasn’t in his arms anymore. His arms snapped closed on empty air.
His eyes darted around the room frantically, until he saw her at the far end of the bed, the moonlight now making her seem ethereal.
“You can’t have a woman who belongs to someone else, Devraj.” she said softly.
He tried to stand, to reach for her, but his weak legs betrayed him.
His fingers clawed at the sheets, dragging himself forward like a man who was possessed.
“No… no. You don’t belong to anyone, Ira.” His voice cracked as he dragged himself across the bed toward her. “You make this emotionless man feel. You make me like this, just a touch, your scent, I crave more.”
Devraj’s palms trembled against the sheets as he crawled toward her, breathing harsh.
“You’ve tasted one desire and you’re already crumbling.” Ira said, almost pitying as she watched him struggle.
“I just… I just want to feel that again.” he rasped. “I feel… better with you.”
Her brows pinched as she frowned. “I will repeat. You can’t love a woman who is with another man.”
Devraj’s eyes went darker, something dangerous flashing in them.
“Stop saying that. He is nobody.” he growled. “I can do better. I… I can.”
Ira only sighed, her expression unreadable. “No, you can’t. And you never will, Devraj.”
She smiled faintly, as her form began to fade.
Devraj’s heart lurched. “No! No, wait–Ira! Ira! Please… don’t leave.. Wait!” His hands clawed at the empty air where she’d been. “Don’t…”
Pain lanced through his chest. He clutched at his heart as the room tilted.
And then, his eyes snapped open.
Devraj bolted upright, breathing fast.
The room was empty and silent, just his heavy breathing and the moonlight shining back at him through the glass doors of the balcony.
No Ira.
His jaw flexed, he stared at the moon until his vision blurred.
“Ira…” he whispered, his voice breaking into the darkness.
~??????~
Ira walked into the mansion, offering small smiles to a few maids she was beginning to recognize.
But she stopped short when she saw the living hall draped with fresh flowers, gold accents, and crisp white linens. A quiet elegance, yet clearly prepared for something.
An occasion?
“Hey, goddess.”
The low whisper brushed her ear, making her jump. She turned quickly to find Vivaan grinning at her.
“Ah..good morning, Vivaan.” Ira said, steadying her voice.
“Morning, gorg.” he chuckled, sliding his hands into his pockets. “So? What do you think of the place?”
Ira’s eyes swept the décor, minimalistic, yet stylish.
“An occasion?”
“Just a few friends coming over.” Vivaan said casually.
“Should’ve hosted at my Villa, but my mom insisted on doing the get-together here.”
“Old friends?” she asked.
“Old, new… and a few people I’ll be working with on my next film.” His tone held pride as his gaze wandered over the hall.
Ira smiled faintly. “I hope you enjoy your time, then.” She turned to leave, but Vivaan caught her wrist gently.
“W..wait. Would you… like to join us?”
Her brows rose. “Me?” She slipped her hand free.
“Yeah. Just..just to hang out a bit.” he said, a little too quickly.
Ira chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Vivaan, even if I did, I’d just sit there and watch you all talk about the industry and projects I don’t understand. I’ll pass.”
He smiled, clearly expecting the rejection. “But… you’ll come down for a while, right? Just once? Please?”
Ira tilted her head, “Why are you so persistent about this?”
Vivaan scratched the back of his head, suddenly awkward. “I just… you know, it’s stuff and all my friends. I want you there too.”
She looked at him for a moment longer, then sighed softly.
“I can’t promise I’ll come though. Crowds…” her eyes dimmed slightly, “more than seven or eight people in a room, and I start to feel… nauseous.”
Her smile returned. “Anyway, enjoy your get-together.” she walked upstairs.
Vivaan stood there, smiling..
She is something else..
~??????~
Ira knocked softly on Devraj’s door. No answer.
She sighed, then pushed it open.
The room was dark, like even the morning sun was too timid to step inside.
A chill lingered in the air, making her skin prickle.
But what truly froze her steps wasn’t the cold. It was him.
Devraj lay still. Almost lifeless.
Is he… alright?
She walked closer. First, she tugged the curtains open slightly, letting a shaft of light fall into the room.
Dust motes floated in the sunbeam, she smiled.
When she turned back to him, she frowned.
He was shirtless, chest rising and falling in uneven breaths.
His brows were furrowed, hands clenched tight around the duvet. His lips moved in whispers she couldn’t catch.
A nightmare?
“S…sir?” Ira called softly. No response.
“Sir?” she tried again.
Still nothing, just the ragged breath, the twitch of his jaw.
She hesitated. Then, cautiously, she tapped his bare arm.
His skin was warm, hot, even. His skin twitched under her touch, but he didn’t wake.
She bit her lip, anxious, then tapped again, firmer this time. Still no response.
Maybe I should just let him rest. He might be exhausted…
She turned to step away..
But suddenly his hand shot up, clamping around her wrist.
“Ah-!” Ira gasped, stumbling forward, losing balance, crashing on him, her palm landing flat against his chest, she froze in shock.. His heartbeat thudded beneath her hand.
Her hair fell across her face, and she hurried to push it back, only to find herself staring directly into his eyes.
They were wide and burning, fixed on her.
“I–I’m sorry, sir..” Ira stammered, her voice trembling. “I lost my balance, I didn’t mean–” She tried to rise, only for his grip to tighten.
“Stop… moving.” His voice was hoarse, “Please…”
The word, shook her more than his grip did.
Her pulse thudded painfully in her ears.
“You can’t leave again.” Devraj rasped, clutching her tighter and she gasped. “I need you.”
Ira froze.
Leave again? What… what is he talking about? Was he still dreaming?
“Sir, you’re not making sense.” she said firmly, tugging at her wrist. “Let me go. Wake up!”
But his eyes were dark, almost feverish, it was like he was caught between dream and reality.
She didn’t understand what he meant or what's happening, but one thing was certain, she wanted to be out of his grip, it was crushing her, badly.
“Sir, wake up! Please… you..you’re hurting me.” Ira’s voice trembled.
Her words must have pierced through because Devraj suddenly stiffened and released her wrist.
Ira staggered back, trying to ease her wrist from the pain there, her breath shaky.
He sat up slowly, eyes locked on her, but she could only think
What is wrong with him today?
“Ira?” he said, his tone softer than usual.
She instinctively took a small step back. “G..good morning, Sir.” she murmured.
He didn’t respond. Just stared.
Ira, uneasy, turned quickly to his closet, pulled out a shirt, and held it out to him without meeting his gaze.
He looked at the fabric, then at her averted face, then down at his own bare chest. His teeth clenched.
She won’t even look at me. But she can smile at Vivaan… and stare at his body? Why can’t she look at me?
His temples throbbed. “Am I… bad looking?” he muttered under his breath.
“Did you say something, Sir?” Ira asked, not glancing back.
Devraj’s eyes burned on her. He wanted to pull her back, to demand she look at him the way she looked at others. His pulse hammered.
Ira… mine.
But instead, he snatched the shirt from her hand and tugged it on.
“Did you have a nightmare, Sir?” she asked carefully once he was dressed.
His jaw flexed hard. “Did you… enjoy your date yesterday?” he snapped, almost accusing.
Ira froze, blinking at him. “Excuse me?”
He didn’t answer. His face tightened.
“I need coffee.” he muttered instead.
Ira frowned but nodded, then she turned to leave the suffocating room.
The door clicked shut.
Devraj’s hands flew to his hair, tugging hard. A growl ripped from his throat. “Ughhh!”
The darkness inside him coiled tighter.
~??????~
The masseuse, a woman in her fifties, finished packing up her oils and towels. Ira lingered quietly in the corner, as she watched.
As the woman walked towards the door, Ira moved toward her.
“Thank you so much, ma.” she said politely.
The older woman gave her a warm smile and a nod.
“I’ll be seeing Mrs. Rathore. His legs are responding, it’s a very good sign. And thank you for assisting, dear.”
Ira’s face softened “That’s wonderful to hear.”
She held the door open as the woman left, then turned back to Devraj.
“It’s so nice to hear your legs are getting better, sir.” she said gently.
Devraj, however, said nothing, in fact, he hasn't said anything all since. His silence didn’t surprise her anymore.
“I’ll go bring your lunch. Excuse me.” She bowed her head slightly and slipped out.
●○○●
Ira heard the faint hum of laughter and conversation drifting from the living hall as she descend the stairs.
She headed for the kitchen, where the chef and three maids were already bustling, arranging platters for the guests.
“Ms. Ira, just ten minutes more and his food will be ready.” the chef said breathlessly.
Ira nodded. “All right.”
Two of the maids carried trays out, but one stumbled, her load too heavy.
Ira rushed forward, steadying her.
“Wait, let me help.”
The young maid exhaled in gratitude, handing Ira one of the trays laden with finest desserts. Ira smiled faintly and followed her out toward the living hall.
The moment she stepped inside, she looked around. The guest were at least twenty, maybe more.
Most of them were young, glamorous, with the unmistakable air of celebrities and models.
Ira placed the tray where the others had been set down and was just about to retreat when a sharp voice called out.
“Hey, you.”
Ira froze and turned. A woman who looked every inch a runway model, she was tall and very elegant and beautiful too, she was staring directly at her.
Ira arched a brow but went over anyway.
“Yes?” she asked politely.
The woman tilted her glass lazily. “Get me another of this Mo?t & Chandon.”
Say what? What is that?
Ira frowned. “I’m sorry, I don’t know where that is. I’ll call someone to assist you.” She dipped her head respectfully and turned to leave.
Only to be yanked back. Ira spun around to see the woman scowling.
“How dare you walk away from me? Do you know who I am?” the model sneered, her voice loud enough to draw curious stares from the crowd.
“You asked for something I don’t know.” Ira replied evenly, her tone still respectful but her patience were thinned. “So I’m going to get someone who can.”
The woman scoffed, lips curling. “You maids always get bold mouths when you work under powerful families, don’t you?”
Ira exhaled slowly. God, how do people like this even get labeled celebrities?
“I’m not a maid.” she corrected calmly. Already, too many eyes were on her.
The woman threw her head back with a mocking laugh. “Not a maid? How bold.”
Ira turned to leave, unwilling to entertain the nonsense further, when suddenly a cold splash rained over her head, dripping down her hair and clothes.
She gasped and froze, the crowd erupting in a ripple of gasps and muffled laughter.
The model lowered her glass with a smirk. “What’s wrong? Going to cry?”
A few people chuckled. Ira’s hands trembled, but she forced a small, tight smile, refusing to give the woman the satisfaction.
“Ira!”
Vivaan pushed through the circle of onlookers, his eyes widening when he saw her drenched.
His jaw clenched as he turned on the model.
“What the hell is wrong with you? Why would you do this?” he snapped.
The girl blinked in shock, her smirk faltering. “Why are you defending her?” She jabbed a finger at Ira, disgust twisting her face. “This… thing?”
Ira blinked at the insult, her lips parting.
“Vivaan, it’s fine.” she tried softly, brushing at her clothes. “I’m all right. It’s just–”
“No, it’s not.” His voice was hard. He stepped closer, glaring down at the girl. “Sugar. Apologize.”
The room went quiet. Several heads turned, shocked at his tone.
“W..what?” Sugar stammered, her confidence wobbling.
“Apologize to her. Now.” Vivaan ordered.
Her eyes widened in disbelief. “Are you serious? You want me to apologize to someone who was rude to me?”
“Enough, Sugar. You need to apologize. She wasn’t rude to you, and we all saw it.” a guy spoke up, stepping forward.
Ira’s eyes flicked to him, he even gave her a small smile, but she looked away, frowning.
“You’re insane! I won’t apologize to some… cheap slut.” Sugar spat the words glaring first at Vivaan, then at the man. “Why are you acting like this, Vivaan? And you, Kai?”
Ira exhaled slowly, trying to end it before things spiraled. “Listen, it was just a misunderstanding. I’m fine, Vivaan. Let it go.”
But Vivaan’s gaze dropped to her wet hair, her soaked blouse sticking on her chest area and her shoulders. His jaw flexed.
He said nothing, just reached for her hand and pulled her away.
Kai’s eyes followed them before snapping back to Sugar. His voice was flat “That was not cool.” He turned and walked off, leaving her fuming.
??????
Vivaan tugged Ira down a different corridor than the one that led to Devraj’s room. She frowned, uneasy.
“Um… where are we going?” she asked.
He stopped at a white door, pressed his finger against the scanner, and the lock clicked open.
Ira hesitated as she stepped inside.
Vivaan’s space was minimalist, clean white walls, soft gray tones, and warm light filtering in through wide windows. It was neat, modern… and alive.
Her gaze lingered on a few large portraits of him hung across the wall, smiling, posing, confident.
“Go clean yourself up.” Vivaan said, his voice gentle but commanding enough to snap her attention back to him.
Ira looked down at herself, at the wet patches staining her blouse, she could even smell the wine from her hair now, then she sighed. “You don’t have to do this, Vivaan. Trust me, I–”
“I’m serious, Ira.” His tone cut across hers, firm but not unkind. “Go. I’ll bring you fresh clothes.”
Ira blinked, caught off guard by his insistence.
She sighed again, quietly defeated, and gave a small nod.
Without another word, she slipped into his bathroom while Vivaan turned and walked outnof his room.