Chapter Sixteen.
Done for the day, Ira walked down the grand staircase, her footsteps light but tired.
She was already picturing the quiet of home when a familiar voice called from behind.
“Ira, dear!”
She turned to find Mrs. Rathore approaching, her usual elegant poise softened by a kind smile.
Ira quickly straightened her posture, forcing a polite smile of her own.
“Good evening, Mrs. Rathore.” she greeted, folding her hands respectfully.
“How are you, dear?” the woman asked, her tone sweet yet observant, studying more than just Ira’s face.
“I’m alright, thank you.” Ira replied with a small smile.
Mrs. Rathore’s gaze lingered. “I see you’ve been working hard. Tell me, is Devraj giving you any problems?”
Ira hesitated. The question caught her off guard. Problems? Not exactly. Aside from his mood swings… the piercing stares… and the unsettling questions about her fiancé, nothing she couldn’t manage. She needed this job more than her comfort.
“No, Mrs. Rathore. No problems at all.” Ira said finally.
Mrs. Rathore exhaled a relieved sigh, her shoulders relaxing.
“Good, good. Devraj can be… particular. Difficult to please if things aren’t done his way. I’m glad you’ve managed well with him.”
Ira offered a polite smile again, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
Mrs. Rathore’s gaze flicked toward the front door. “Heading home?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Ah, perfect timing then. You don’t need to come in tomorrow.”
Ira blinked, startled. “I… don’t? Is something wrong?”
“Oh, not at all.” Mrs. Rathore smiled again, too casually. “Devraj just has a very important meetingto attend to. so you won't be needed tomorrow.”
“Oh..” Ira murmured. She nodded politely. “Alright then. Good evening, Mrs. Rathore.”
“Good evening, dear.”
Mrs. Rathore watched Ira walk away, her gentle smile slowly fading into thought.
When Ira disappeared beyond the door, the woman’s lips curved faintly again, this time, with quiet curiosity.
???????
Ira was ready to push open the door, when her phone dinged. She glanced down, frowning.
A message.
From an unknown number.
She hesitated before unlocking the screen.
Unknown: Did you get home safely?
Her brows furrowed. “Huh?” she murmured under her breath, pushing the door open and stepping inside.
“Ira? Is that you?” her mother’s voice called from one of the rooms, the store.
“Yes, Ma!” Ira replied with a small giggle, forcing the odd message out of her head.
She headed upstairs, her tote bag brushing against her hip.
As soon as she shut her bedroom door, curiosity got the better of her.
She opened WhatsApp again, staring at the message that had appeared a few minutes ago.
“Did you get home safely?”
Before she could type, another message popped up.
“What?” she whispered, blinking at the name.
Mr. Rathore? Her boss?
It felt… strange. Why was he messaging her? Why from a personal number?
She typed a quick, polite reply.
Almost instantly, the message was marked as read. She stared at the blue ticks for a moment, her frown deepening.
Weird.
With a shrug, she deleted the chat and the number, then tossed the phone on her bed.
The tote bag followed, landing beside it. She exhaled, pushing off her shoes, and walked into her washroom.
Minutes passed.
The phone began to buzz.
Once. Twice. Then it stopped.
When Ira returned, drying her hands with a towel, the screen blinked with a new notification. She picked it up. one missed call from the same unknown number.
Her stomach dropped.
A message followed.
Her breath hitched slightly. She checked the missed call again. The same number.
Devraj.
“What…?” she whispered, confusion lacing her voice.
But before she could decide whether to reply or ignore him, her phone began to ring again.
This time..Kunal.
Relief instantly softened her face. She smiled and answered.
“Hey, Kunal.” she said warmly, her tone completely changing.
The call filled the room with soft laughter and warmth.
??????
Meanwhile, Devraj stared at his own phone, watching the word Online appear under her name.
His thumb hovered over the call button again.
Why isn’t she replying?
Devraj’s jaw flexed as his gaze stayed glued to the screen.
She’d read it. The two blue ticks glared back at him, mocking his patience.
He called again.
This time a voice on the line said flatly..
“The number you are trying to reach is on another call.”
His grip tightened around the phone. The metal edge bit into his palm.
“Who is she talking to?” he muttered under his breath.
A heavy exhale left him, part disbelief, part jealousy that burned his chest.
Was it Kunal?
He could almost picture her soft laugh, the way her voice might sound when she talked to him.
His heart ached, and the feeling disgusted him. It made his blood run hotter.
He called again.
And again.
Each time, the same response, she’s on another call.
Devraj’s breath grew heavier, his expression darkening.
He wanted to hear her voice, to interrupt whoever she was speaking to.
The thought of her smiling for Kunal made him feel…sick.
By the fourth attempt, frustration curled up inside him like smoke.
He threw the phone down beside him and leaned back on the headrest, his chest rising and falling.
His hands trembled slightly as he clenched them into fists.
A second later, the phone buzzed again.
He snatched it immediately, hoping, irrationally, that it was her.
But no.
Advik.
Devraj’s irritation spiked. He exhaled, the muscles in his jaw tightening before he answered.
“What?” His tone was hard.
“Whoa,” Advik chuckled. “Sounds like a bad time to disturb the Almighty himself.”
“Get to the point before I hang up.” Devraj bit out, voice calm but laced with threat.
Advik laughed softly. “Fine, fine. Just a reminder about the meeting tomorrow.”
“I know.” Devraj’s tone was hard. “I didn’t forget.”
A pause. Then, Advik’s voice shifted, lighter but knowing. “Did you know Alia’s in town? She’ll be at the meeting too.”
Devraj froze. Slowly, his eyes darkened, the muscle in his jaw twitching.
“Why?” His voice dropped an octave.
“Not sure yet.” Advik said, sounding more cautious now. “But from what I’ve seen, she’s been busy building her network for months. Making connections, still with the Rathore influence. Looks like she’s planning something.”
“Find out what,” Devraj seethed, each word restrained. “Who she’s been meeting, where, and when. Dig everything out.”
Advik gave a low whistle. “Some crazy ex you’ve got though..”
“Shut up.”
The line went dead.
Devraj dropped the phone onto the bed, the air around him thickening.
His eyes burning with fury and betrayal.
He closed his fists, breathing hard.
Alia.
The name itself was a taste of bitterness in his mouth.
He hated that he can't punish her, because of the promise he made to her.
Alia was the first woman he ever let close, the first he allowed into his controlled, perfectly calculated world.
Back then, everyone wanted something from him. His name. His money. His power.
The fame that surrounded him like a golden cage. Women smiled at him not because of who he was, but because of what he had.
But Alia was different, or at least, he thought she was. She laughed at his guarded nature.
She didn’t flinch at his cold tone or his silence. She acted like she cared, not for his name, but for his loneliness.
And that was all it took.
For a man like Devraj Singh Rathore, who had built his life on logic and precision, the illusion of care was enough to make him accept her.
He gave her everything he could offer. His time, his trust, his protection.
But never his heart, because even when he tried, he couldn’t feel.
Not her touch, not her love, nothing.
He remembered lying beside her once, watching her trace her finger down his arm, whispering words he was supposed to feel something for. But all he felt was emptiness.
A hollow, quiet ache where his emotions should’ve been.
He had given up on the idea of love then.
He told himself he was incapable of it. That his heart was nothing but a machine that beat because it had to.
Until that day.
The accident.
His teeth clenched, his knuckles whitening as the memory flashed, her hand gripping the steering wheel, the sharp scream of tires, her face twisted in fear and greed when she tried to grab the envelope of documents he’d warned her not to touch.
Her selfishness had almost killed him.
That crash took more than just his ability to walk. It burned whatever fragile belief he had left in loyalty, in trust, in love.
He swore that day he was going to blend with how empty his emotions are..
And he kept that vow.
Until Ira.
He didn’t even realize when it started.
At first, she was just a soft-spoken, calm caregiver assigned to him out of duty. He doesn't even knew why he accepted her to be his caregiver.
But there was something in her, something quiet yet alive, that began to stir what he thought was never inside him.
Her voice had a warmth that reached places Alia never could.
Her touch, careful, respectful, genuine, lingered longer than it should have.
Her scent. God, her scent. It stayed on his skin even after she left his room, haunting him.
And her eyes.
Those green eyes. Not the fake sparkle of fame, but the deep, untouched green of a forest after rain, peaceful, pure, dangerous in how easily they drew him in.
He hated that he was thinking of her few days ago, but now he thinks shamelessly and in an unhealthy way.
He ran a hand down his face, trying to breathe through the storm building inside him.
He shouldn’t feel this for her, after knowing she has a man.
He shouldn't.
But every time she was near him, he felt his control slipping, his heartbeat uneven, his chest tightening, his thoughts spiraling.
It wasn’t just attraction. It was something darker.
He wanted to be near her always, to have her in his reach, in his space, where no one else could look at her, touch her, talk to her.
He wanted to be the only one she smiled at.
The only name that left her lips.
The only man she saw.
The craving scared him, yet it also… thrilled him.
He exhaled slowly, eyes darkening as he stared at the faint reflection of himself in the glass.
What had she done to him?
Her touch still lingered on his arm.
Her scent still clung to his air.
Her absence felt louder than any sound.
Her touch was making him trembling..
Not from pain.
Not from weakness.
But from the terrifying, intoxicating realization…
that he finally could. And he wanted Ira, he wanted to keep feeling that emotions..
She was the right woman for him.