Chapter Seventeen.
The clock ticked with a steady rhythm.
Devraj’s eyes flicked between the clock and the door, again and again. He’d been doing it for an hour.
Ira wasn’t here.
His laptop sat open on his lap, gaze fixed on the surveillance camera feed.
He scanned every angle outside the mansion, his jaw tightening each time the image refreshed and still, no sight of her.
Nothing.
He swallowed hard and grabbed the phone from beside him, dialing a number.
“Sir, she is still not here.” came a curt voice from the other end.
Devraj’s temper snapped. He growled under his breath and ended the call abruptly.
Where the hell is she?
She was never late.
He looked down at his phone again.
Her name stared back at him on the screen...Ira. His thumb hesitated for a moment before pressing “call.”
Ringing...
Ringing...
Nothing.
He gritted his teeth as the call ended.
“Pick your damn phone, Ira.” he muttered, his voice low.
He called again, no answer.
His chest tightened, heat rising in him.
Why wasn’t she picking up? Where was she? Every unanswered ring felt like a taunt, a test of his restraint.
A sudden knock echoed through the room. His head snapped toward the door, heart leaping.
“Ira...” he exhaled, relief softening his tone for the first time all morning. “Come in.”
But when the door opened...it wasn’t her.
A maid stepped in instead, and his relief turned hard.
His expression hardened instantly, the air in the room dropping and the maid felt a chill.
“What the hell are you doing here?” His voice was cold and stern enough to make the maid flinch.
Before she could stammer a response, Mrs. Rathore entered, followed by two more maids.
“Devraj…” his mother began with a weary sigh.
Devraj’s gaze darkened as it flicked toward the others. “What are they doing here? Where is Ira?”
His mother hesitated, glancing back at the frightened maids before speaking. “Devraj, Ira won’t be coming today.”
He froze, the air stilling around him.
“You have an important meeting today, remember? Ira isn’t needed for that, I told her not to come. The maids will handle–”
“Get them out.” he interrupted, his tone quiet but edged with anger.
His mother blinked. “D–Devraj… they need to–”
“Get. Them. Out.”
His mother hesitated but then turned to the maids, gesturing them to leave the room.
The maids didn’t wait for another command, they fled, practically running out of the room.
When the door shut, silence fell.
His mother looked back at him, uneasy, while Devraj sat motionless, his eyes still fixed on the door.
“You have an important meeting, Devraj. You can’t miss it–”
“You shouldn’t have told her not to come.” Devraj cut in, his tone stern, the kind that made his mother pause.
His mother frowned, then sighed softly as if speaking to a stubborn child. “She isn’t needed here today, Devraj. She can’t follow you to that meeting, it’s a high-profile business event, and she might feel out of place. Besides, she only–”
“I don’t mind..” he interjected again, eyes narrowing. “She could have come. She’s my caregiver.”
“In the house, Devraj. Not at something as important as this..” she replied, her voice measured, trying not to ignite him further.
Devraj’s throat worked as he swallowed, jaw tightening. He looked away, pulse beating in his temple.
She didn’t get it.
It wasn’t about convenience. It was about her. Her presence steadied him in ways no one else could.
“Next time..” he said slowly, every word deliberate, “don’t interfere. I want her here..all the time.”
Mrs. Rathore hesitated, searching his face, but his expression left no room for argument. Finally, she gave a reluctant nod. “I won’t. But you have just an hour to prepare, Devraj. I’ll send in the maids. This meeting is important.”
He didn’t answer. His silence was enough to send her quietly out of the room.
The door closed.
The quiet returned, thick, stifling.
Devraj’s hand curled into a fist on his lap. His entire body felt wired, restless, every nerve tuned to the absence of one person.
He picked up his phone again, his voice low when he spoke.
“Yes, sir?” came the voice on the other end.
“I want you to keep an eye on her.” Devraj said, each word deliberate and cold. “Every detail. Where she goes, who she talks to. Everything.”
“Yes, sir.”
The line went dead.
He lowered the phone, exhaling shakily. His head fell back against the bed’s headboard, eyes closing as he tried to steady the storm inside him.
“Just a little bit longer,” he whispered under his breath, the words almost breaking. “I can… hold on, just for today.”
But even he didn’t believe that.
~??????~
Meanwhile…
In Ira’s room, the world was peaceful.
Morning light slipped through the curtains, painting golden lines across her blanket.
She was still curled up in bed, her breathing soft and steady, lips slightly parted in sleep.
The door creaked open, and her mother stepped in.
A warm smile curved on her lips at the sight of her daughter, so serene, so untouched by the chaos outside.
She moved toward the window, pulling the curtains wide as sunlight poured in, bright and gentle.
Then she turned and leaned down, brushing a hand over Ira’s arm. “Wake up, beta.”
Ira stirred with a sleepy moan, blinking her long lashes open.
The corners of her mouth lifted in a drowsy smile.
“Good morning, Ma..” she murmured, rubbing her eyes.
Her mother chuckled lightly. “I know you have a day off today, but wake up, hmm? Eat something, tidy up a bit, then you can rest again.”
Ira nodded obediently, her sleepy smile never fading. “Okay.”
Her mother kissed her forehead before heading toward the door, the sound of her soft footsteps fading down the hall.
Silence lingered for a few seconds, then ding.
Her phone screen lit up.
Still half-drowsy, Ira reached for it on the nightstand and unlocked it.
A message from Kunal popped up.
Good morning, my sweet pumpkin??
Her lips curved, cheeks turning faintly pink. She could almost hear his teasing voice as she read it again. But then, her smile faltered.
Several missed calls blinked on her screen, all from one number she instantly recognized.
Devraj.
Her brows pulled together. “Why was he calling?” she whispered, sitting up a little straighter.
She thought for a second, confusion flickering across her face.
Didn’t Mrs. Rathore say he had something important today?
Her gaze lingered on the missed calls for a moment longer before she sighed softly, shaking her head.
“Maybe it was by mistake.”
She set the phone down and pushed the blanket off her legs, stretching as sunlight brushed her face.
The morning felt ordinary and so calm, she smiled at that.
~??????~
The car rolled down the morning streets, the low hum of the engine blending with the distant horns and chatter of vendors opening their stalls.
Devraj sat at the back seat, his gaze fixed on the passing view through the tinted window.
His fingers tapped once against his knee… then curled into a tight fist. Then again. Clenching and unclenching.
His jaw flexed, the vein in his neck visible as he tried to quiet the storm inside.
Advik noticed it all.
Sitting beside him, he leaned back, his arms folded as his curious eyes studied his friend.
Devraj had always been composed, unreadable… the kind of man whose silence carried more power than a room full of shouting men, and if there was one thing certain about the man, it was that nothing ever rattled him.
But this morning, something was off.
It wasn’t nervousness.. no...Devraj never got nervous..
A man with a stare strong enough to break confidence itself.
His fists kept tightening, he looked distant. His jaw was locked, a muscle twitching near his temple, his gaze unfocused.
This wasn’t the composure of a man thinking about business. This was something else entirely.
Advik smirked faintly, trying to ease the mood. “If it was Vivaan sitting here, I’d say he’s nervous about this meeting...” he said, glancing at him. “But you? You’re the one who makes others nervous.”
Devraj’s head turned slowly, his eyes meeting Advik’s.
The weight of that look made Advik’s teasing fade for a second. that calm, dangerous look that never quite revealed what was beneath.
“You good?” Advik asked.
“I’m fine..” Devraj said, his voice low and clipped, a wall of steel in two words.
Then, as if wanting to bury the subject, he added, “Did you get the information on Her like I asked?”
Advik sighed quietly, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I did.”
Devraj’s gaze hardened.
Advik looked out the window briefly before continuing. “Alia has been building new connections again. I checked her recent meetings, mostly foreign investors and a few old contacts from the Rathore project days. She’s moving quietly but… smartly.”
Devraj’s hand tightened on the phone in his lap. His reflection on the car window looked colder and deadlier now.
Of course she was. Alia never stayed gone for long, not when there was power or money in sight.
She always came crawling back when she smelled opportunity.
I should have realized who she really was, back then. She is just too good at covering tracks.
But deep inside, he wasn’t just angry about Alia. His mind was somewhere else entirely, somewhere soft and quiet, with green eyes and a gentle smile.
Ira.... he whispered in his head
~??????~
The private VVIP restaurant gleamed in quiet luxury, tall glass walls, a view of the city skyline, and soft classical music in the background.
The air smelled faintly of sandalwood and imported wine.
Devraj sat at the head of the table, composed as ever, yet something in his jawline gave away his impatience.
His fingers tapped against the edge of his wheelchair slowly.
Across from him, Advik sat, casually scrolling through his phone but his eyes observed everything.
The elevator doors opened, Three white men in crisp suits stepped out.
“Mr. Devraj Singh Rathore. Good day.” one of them greeted in a polished British accent, extending his hand.
Devraj shook it firmly, giving a curt nod. “Mr. Jones.” he said.
“This is Mr. Smith, and Mr. Brown.” Mr. Jones introduced, gesturing to the two men beside him.
Devraj gave a curt nod. “Gentlemen.”
They all shook hands in turn, even Advik, who flashed his charming diplomatic smile, the one that usually balanced Devraj’s intensity.
They all took their seats...
“I suppose we can begin–” Advik was about to begin the opening remarks when the sound of heels echoed through the marble floor, a slow, deliberate rhythm that silenced the table.
“You can’t start the meeting without me.” came a smooth, feminine voice that made Devraj’s jaw lock instantly.
He didn’t need to look up to know who it was.
But he did anyway. They all did.
Alia.
Dressed in a scarlet bodycon dress that hugged her curves, her long wavy hair cascading down her shoulders, red lips painted in that deep shade of red.. She walked with confidence.
She walked toward them.
Advik’s hand clenched under the table. Devraj’s knuckles whitened around his glass.
“Ms. Alia.” Mr. Jones said, smiling as he rose halfway in greeting. “We wouldn’t dream of starting without the ambassador of our upcoming campaign.”
“Ah, that’s good to hear.” she let out a soft, honeyed laugh and exchanged pleasantries with the other men, her accent polished and her tone dripping with charm.
Her gaze, however, shifted to Devraj...her former lover, her biggest loss.
Devraj didn’t say a word. His eyes stayed fixed ahead, distant.
Advik’s jaw flexed as he glared at her, clearly irritated. But Alia only smiled wider, soaking in the attention.
Then, deliberately, she took the empty seat beside Devraj, too close.
The faint scent of her perfume, once familiar, now burned in his chest like acid.
Devraj’s hand clenched on the armrest, knuckles pale, but his face stayed blank.
“Now we can start.” she said sweetly, crossing her legs as if she owned the room.
Devraj didn’t look at her. Not even once.
???