Chapter Fifteen.
"Contract terminated, effective immediately."
Sugar stared at the email, her vision blurring after reading the same line for what felt like the hundredth time.
Her heart pounded in her ears.
"Image misalignment"? That was her campaign. Her face. Her name.
Her trembling hand scrolled down, the brand's logo, the cold corporate signature, and beneath it... a note she'd never seen before:
"What..." she whispered, her stomach twisting.
She tried calling her manager, no answer. Her publicist. "unavailable."
Now panic clawed at her chest, her breath shortening. She dialed Vivaan.
No response.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
She called until her fingers ached.
~~■~~
Vivaan stepped out of his bathroom, rubbing his damp hair with a towel.
Dressed in a black T-shirt and grey sweatpants, he looked relaxed, until his phone's vibration refused to stop.
He frowned and reached for it on the bed. The screen lit up, 33 missed calls and up to 30 messages.
All from Sugar.
His brows furrowed. "What the hell..."
Before he could even unlock it, the phone started ringing again.
He answered. "Hey, Su-"
"Why would you blacklist me!" Sugar's voice cracked through the line, shaking. "What did you do? They canceled me! The brand just-"
"What? Sugar, calm down-slow down,." Vivaan said, confused. "Blacklist you? From what?"
"I got an email! My contract is gone, Vivaan! I'm blacklisted from modeling and endorsements-all of it!"
Her voice broke, a sound of someone who'd just watched her whole world fall apart.
Vivaan sat on the edge of his bed, stunned. "Sugar, I didn't do anything. I swear."
"Then who did?" she whispered, voice trembling, terrified.
"Relax, okay? Maybe it's a mix-up. I'll look into it."
"Do something." she said, and the line went dead.
Vivaan sighed, running a hand through his hair. He opened her messages, screenshots of the email, the contract, the blacklist notice.
Then his eyes caught the company header, the crest, the signature.
His breath caught.
That wasn't just a brand.
Vivaan stared for a long moment, his throat dry. "Bhai..." he whispered under his breath.
It was one of Devraj's holdings.
????
Meanwhile...
Devraj closed his laptop softly, almost too gently for how cold his face looked.
"Disrespect.." he murmured, voice low "has a price."
He leaned back slightly, gaze fixed on nothing and everything at once.
His words were calm, but his eyes, dark, burned with fury.
"And I always collect."
Then, under his breath, with a ghost of a smile..
"No one disrespects what's mine."
~??????~
The clinking of plates and spoons filled the dining room, a usually blending with quiet conversation. But tonight, silence ruled the table.
Vivaan pushed his food around his plate, appetite long gone.
His gaze kept drifting toward his brother at the other end of the table, the calm, unbothered Devraj, who was cutting through his meal as if nothing had happened.
Their father's eyes caught the tension.
"Vivaan." he called, "Problem?"
His mother's hand paused midair, her brows knitting in concern.
Devraj, however, didn't lift his head. He simply kept eating.
Vivaan hesitated, glancing between his father and Devraj before finally speaking, his voice uncertain.
"Bhai?"
No response. Not even a flicker of acknowledgment. Devraj's composure was cold.
Vivaan's chest tightened. He exhaled shakily.
"You... you blacklisted Sugar?"
That got everyone's attention. His father's fork stopped midair, and his mother turned to him, frown deepening.
"Sugar is blacklisted?" she asked, disbelief lining her voice.
Devraj finally dropped his spoon. The sound was soft, but they knew it means a warning.
"I'm done eating." he said.
"Bhai, wait." Vivaan leaned forward.
"I don't know what more she did, but please, let it go. She sounded so broken. She's worked for this career for ten years."
That was when Devraj lifted his gaze.
"Good." he said flatly. "Then she can spend another ten building a new one. She's banned from every industry under Rathore influence."
His mother's eyes widened, her voice trembling.
"What? Devraj! Why would you do that?"
He didn't answer. He adjusted the wheels of his chair instead, preparing to leave.
Vivaan's voice cracked slightly as he tried again, "Please, Bhai. I know she was cruel to Ira, but this, this isn't right, it's too much, I'm sure she learn already.."
Devraj's fingers clenched around the armrest, jaw tightening. His eyes cut to Vivaan, warning him.
Their father leaned back in his chair, the faintest trace of intrigue crossing his face as he watched the exchange unfold.
Then Devraj's voice came.
"Bring this up again, and you'll be demoted." he sternly said, as he warned.
Vivaan froze, disbelief flashing across his face. Their mother's hand flew to her chest in shock.
Devraj turned his chair and rolled out of the room, leaving behind the heavy echo of his words.
"Vivaan, what's going on?" his mother asked, she was concerned.
Vivaan exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "What did Sugar do?" his father added, voice firm, but curious.
Vivaan looked between them, throat tightening. "In my get-together today... Sugar poured a drink on Ira's hair and clothes."
His mother's eyes widened.
"I got Ira to change." Vivaan continued quickly, "but Bhai asked me what happened, and I told him. Hours later, Sugar called, crying, she said she's been blacklisted."
The room went quiet. His father leaned back slightly, eyes narrowing as he studied Vivaan.
"This same Ira girl?" he asked slowly.
Vivaan nodded with a weary sigh.
His father's tone turned contemplative. "He must have a soft spot for her, if he's doing all this for that Ira girl."
Vivaan frowned deeply. "Devraj and emotions are two completely different sides, Papa. After what Alia did? Emotions are far from Bhai's reach."
His mother said. "But it was all an accident, Vivaan."
Vivaan rolled his eyes and pushed back his chair, standing.
"Accident or not, I'm still shocked Bhai even lets her work in the industry. And not just work, she's still one of the top supermodels and leading artists. She holds influence."
He shook his head in disbelief and turned to leave, frustration trailing behind him.
His mother sighed heavily as Vivaan left.
"Vivaan's not wrong." his father said after a long pause. She turned to him, brows furrowed.
"But Devraj still allowing Alia to stay in the industry..." he further. "It's confusing."
"Maybe he still loves her." She whispered
He chuckled darkly, the sound low and humorless. "No, no, no. That's not Devraj. And that's not love."
"Then what is it?" she asked, unsettled by the glint in his eyes.
He smiled faintly, his tone cryptic. "Can't say, Especially when a new frame has caught his eye."
Her frown deepened. "What do you mean?"
"You'll see." he murmured, almost amused.
She stared at him, confused, but then sighed and continue her meal.
~~??????~~
Ira was walking up the grand staircase when she saw Vivaan coming down. His head was lowered, his steps slower than usual.
"Vivaan?" she called softly. "Are you okay?"
He lifted his gaze, and though he managed a small smile, it didn't reach his eyes. There was no trace of his usual charm or warmth.
"Good morning, Ira." he said quietly, then brushed past her without waiting for a reply.
Ira blinked, confusion knitting her brows.
Weird... is he alright? she wondered, watching his back as he disappeared down the steps.
She sighed, brushed off the odd feeling, and continued upward.
When she reached Devraj's room, she knocked lightly before stepping in.
"Good morning, sir." she greeted.
Devraj was by the tall glass doors that led to his balcony, the sunlight casting sharp lines across his jaw, his gaze fixed beyond the glass, cold and a bit distant.
"Ira?" His voice broke the silence.
She moved closer, careful and polite, stopping a few feet away. "You called for me, sir?"
"Don't move."
Her brows lifted slightly. "Sir?"
"Stay where you are." he said again, tone softer, but heavy enough to still the air.
Ira froze, unsure what to do, while Devraj inhaled quietly.
Her scent, faint vanilla, fresh linen, reached him, and his chest eased in a way he didn't understand. He hadn't felt that kind of calm in years.
He wanted more.
"Come closer." he suddenly said.
Ira frowned lightly but obeyed, taking a careful step forward.
It wasn't enough.
"Closer." he repeated, voice rougher this time, almost like a plea disguised as command.
His fingers curled tightly against the armrest of his chair, the veins in his hands taut.
Ira hesitated. The space between them was no more than two feet now.
She could see the sharp lines of his shoulders, the tension radiating off him.
"I... I'm sorry, sir." she said carefully, "I don't want to invade your space."
His head turned from the glass, and his eyes locked onto hers.
The calm mask he wore cracked just a little, revealing something simmering beneath, frustration, hunger, possession.
She didn't understand what she'd just denied him. But he did.
And he hated the way she resisted.
He wanted more.
He needed more.
"How long have you known... Kunal?" His voice cut through the stillness.
The name rolled off his tongue like venom, bitter and unwanted.
Ira blinked, her posture stiffening. The sudden shift in his tone made her guard rise instantly.
"We're not allowed to share personal information with-"
"I wrote the contract." His voice deepened, hard and quiet. "And I can cancel it."
Her heart skipped.
"Speak now, or you're dismissed."
Her eyes widened.
Dismissed? Her breath hitched as panic flickered beneath her calm expression.
She couldn't lose this job, not now. Not when she needed it most.
What she didn't know was that Devraj was bluffing.
He couldn't let her go, not when every part of him was tethered to her presence like oxygen.
He only wanted to hear the truth from her lips... the truth about that man.
"Two months now, sir." she said carefully.
Devraj's jaw flexed, his grip on the wheelchair's armrest tightening.
"Where did you meet?" His tone was deceptively calm, but his eyes darkened as he spoke.
She hesitated, then cleared her throat. "Um... my parent set me up to meet him."
The muscle in his jaw twitched. Her parent chose him?
Devraj's gaze sharpened. "Do you... like him?"
Her eyes lifted to his. "Yes, sir. I do like him."
He felt that answer slice through him.
"Why?"
At this point, Ira's confusion grew.
His questions, his tone, it was all strange. But his eyes demanded answers.
"Kunal is a sweet guy." she began softly. "He's gentle, funny, and very responsible."
"Any man can be that." Devraj said.
She frowned a little at his tone but continued. "Not all men are like Kunal. He's intelligent, emotionally and mentally. He sees things in perspective and he's not selfish at all. He's calm and very selective when he comes to his circles... which to me isn't a bad thing."
She smiled slightly as she spoke, and that small smile made something dangerous stir in Devraj's chest.
His jaw locked, the faint sound of his breath deepening. Jealousy burned low in his gut, slow, hot, poisonous.
He wanted to ask more, to tear down every reason she admired that man.
He wanted to make her say his name, not as "sir," but as something closer, something real.
But instead, he sat there, silent...
Watching the woman he shouldn't want defend another man, and it made him rage quietly inside.
"What about me?"
The words slipped from Devraj's lips before he could stop them.
Ira blinked, caught off guard. "Huh? Sorry?"
He didn't look away. His voice softened, but there was something raw underneath.
"What about me? Do I... have those traits?"
Her brows furrowed, uncertain. "Well... I don't know much about you, sir. And it's not really my place to notice those things. That should be your lover's job. I'm just a caregiver."
The words hit him harder than they should have. Just a caregiver.
Something inside Devraj burned, the ache of being unseen.
He wanted her to see him the way she saw that man.
His voice dropped, rough and low.
"You can take the place." he whispered. "I don't mind."
Ira frowned, confusion flickering across her face. "I can't do that, sir. You can tell your lover to."
"I don't have one." His tone hardened suddenly. "Stop saying that."
She flinched slightly, startled by the tone in his voice.
"I'm sorry, I... I didn't know. I just thought you... had one." she stammered.
"Why?" His question.
"Well, men your... um, age... should, um, have one." she said awkwardly, hoping to calm him.
Devraj felt something twist in his chest.
Men your age. The words echoed painfully.
"Am I that old?" he asked quietly, but there was a weight behind the softness, a wounded pride.
Ira's eyes widened. "No, no, I didn't mean it that way! I would never dare say that, I'm sorry, sir."
He looked away, jaw tense, his hand still gripping the armrest of his wheelchair until his knuckles turned pale.
"Do... do you like older men?" he asked suddenly, the question leaving him before he could stop it.
His chest tightened desperate for her answer.
She froze, stunned. "Um... well, I... it depends on the age."
His eyes darkened. "Eight to ten years older?"
She thought for a moment, then sighed softly. "That's a bit much for me. Most women might like it, but for me... the maximum is five years."
Her gentle honesty felt like a quiet rejection, and Devraj's heart sank.
"W-what? But age is just a number, right?" His voice cracked slightly, strained. "What matters is how much you love each other."
"I guess so, sir," she said with a nervous smile. "But that's just my personal preference."
Devraj's throat tightened as he swallowed hard.
"What if a man older than you, eight years, maybe more, wants you?" he asked quietly, his gaze locking onto hers. "What if he shows you how much he loves you?"
Ira hesitated, her tone calm but firm. "Then I'd struggle to accept him. I'd tell him respectfully what I want... and what I don't."
Her words hit him like a quiet storm.
He looked away, chest rising unevenly.
She'd refuse me, he thought. Even if I gave her everything.
And for the first time in a long time... Devraj Singh Rathore felt powerless.
"I'm sure he'll see someone else. We'll just talk it out." Ira said, her voice calm, almost casual.
But to Devraj, every word felt like a blade pressed to his chest.
He didn't move. Didn't breathe.
Someone else?
The thought burned through his veins like poison. His throat tightened as he swallowed hard, forcing down a pain he didn't understand, or rather, didn't want to understand.
Was she really planning to stay with Kunal? Forever?
Not after everything he'd started to feel. Not after the way her voice steadied his storm, the way her scent filled his lungs like calm.
Ira mistook his silence for agreement. She exhaled softly, unaware of the chaos behind his stillness.
"I'll get the bathroom ready, sir." she said quietly. Then she turned and walked away, her soft footsteps fading into the silence.
Devraj's heartbeat thundered in his ears as his eyes followed her.
He wanted to reach out, to stop her, to make her understand the turmoil clawing through him.
But his body stayed frozen, the words trapped behind clenched teeth.
As the door shut, something inside him snapped quietly.
His fingers dug into the armrest of his wheelchair, knuckles whitening.
She belongs to me, the thought came uninvited, dark and fierce.
Jealousy coursed through his veins.
And beneath it all, a dangerous realization.
He wasn't jealous of Kunal.
He was jealous of anyone who could stand close to her... without shaking.
??????