Chapter Nineteen.
Kunal’s car rolled to a smooth stop in front of Ira’s house.
He exhaled, running a hand through his hair before glancing at her.
“I hope you enjoyed your time with me. Ma can be a little… too much sometimes.” he said with a nervous chuckle.
Ira laughed softly, her eyes glimmering in the evening light. “Well, according to her, I have to get used to it.” she teased, glancing over her shoulder.
The backseat was filled with boxes and bags, neatly stacked, jewelry, sweets, gifts from Mrs. Mehra that Ira hadn’t even known how to refuse.
Kunal followed her gaze, smiling shyly. “She really likes you. She hasn’t liked anyone this much in a long time..” he said quietly, a hidden fondness in his tone.
Ira blushed, her fingers brushing her hair nervously “She’s kind.” she murmured, reaching for her seatbelt to unbuckle it.
But before she could open the door, Kunal’s hand shot forward, his fingers gently catching her wrist.
“Wait.” he said softly.... hesitant but charged.
Her breath caught. His sudden touch made her still, her pulse stuttered as she turned toward him. He was close, too close.
His cologne mixed with the faint scent of his car, clean, masculine and calming.
“K–Kunal…” she whispered, her voice trembling as her eyes met his.
He didn’t speak. His gaze fell from her eyes to her lips, lingering, unsure but yearning.
Her heart hammered in her chest, the silence between them growing thick.
Her throat went dry, her lips parting just slightly as if drawn by instinct.
He leaned in, their breath mingled, just an inch...
CRACK!
A violent sound cut through the moment.
Ira flinched hard, gasping as something slammed into the windshield, sending a spiderweb of cracks spreading across the glass.
Kunal jerked back instantly, his heart leaping into his throat. “What the hell–” he muttered.
Ira’s pulse wouldn’t slow, catch in the moment. Her chest rose and fell fast as she stared at the cracked glass, it looked like ice shattering under pressure, lines spreading outward from one deep impact.
She whispered shakily, “What could’ve hit it?”
Kunal stepped out, scanning the quiet street. The night air felt too still, too heavy. “I don’t know.” he said, crouching near the front bumper.
Ira followed, her sandle patting lightly on the ground.
She looked around too, the neighborhood was silent. No people. No movement.
Then her eyes caught something near the front tire.
A small piece of stone. But not just any stone, it was oddly dark, edges sharp, glinting faintly as though scorched.
A faint black smear trailed from it.
Her stomach twisted uneasily.
“Kunal..” she called softly. “Look…”
He came closer, frowning. “Maybe some kid threw it..” he muttered, but the uncertainty in his tone said otherwise.
"Kunal? No sane parent will leave their kids out this late." She whispered.
Ira swallowed, her gaze still on that black mark. The silence around them suddenly felt wrong. It was as if someone was watching.
From somewhere unseen.
“You should go in, Ira.” Kunal said quietly, his voice softer than usual, he was also felt the eyes.
She looked at him, still uneasy, her eyes flicking to the cracked windshield and then to the empty street behind them.
The night was too still. No laughter, no footsteps, no children playing anywhere. Just silence.
“No… you go first.” she said, hesitating, her hand clutching the strap of her purse. “And your car?”
He forced a small smile, trying to ease the worry in her voice. “Don’t worry. I’ll take it to the mechanic tomorrow. I’ll use my other car and go to work, tomorrow.”
She nodded slowly, though her eyes still darted around. Something about tonight didn’t feel right.
Kunal walked to the backseat, opened the door, and carried out the gifts his mother had packed for her. Ira took them with a polite smile, still glancing toward the cracked glass.
“Hey..” he said gently, catching her gaze. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”
Her lips curved faintly, and just before she could turn, Kunal leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek.
She froze. Heat rushed to her face, her breath catching as he chuckled softly at her reaction.
“Now go..” he said in a teasing tone, “let me make sure you get in safely.”
Her heart still fluttering, Ira turned toward the small gate. She walked up the short path, glancing back once, Kunal stood there, hands in his pockets, smiling faintly.
Her mother appeared at the doorway, helping her with the gifts, and waved at Kunal. He returned it with a grin before Ira closed the door behind her.
Inside, Ira exhaled deeply, her fingers on the spot on her cheek that Kunal kissed.
Outside, Kunal lingered a moment longer. Then his gaze drifted back to the shattered windshield. His smile faded.
He sighed, got into the car, and started the engine. As he drove off, the darkness behind the trees shifted, just slightly. A silhouette, still as stone, stood watching.
~??~
Meanwhile, at the Rathore mansion…
Devraj sat on the balcony in his wheelchair, the night breeze brushing through his hair. His head rested against the backrest, eyes closed, a picture of control.
But that calm was a lie.
A phone screen glowed on his lap, displaying the photographs his man had sent: Kunal’s car parked outside Ira’s home… Ira’s face flushed… Kunal leaning too close.
His eyes snapped open.
The amber in them had turned to molten gold, dark, intense, burning.
Kunal Mehra.
His jaw tightened. He could almost taste the name like poison in his mouth. His grip on the armrest turned white-knuckled, veins stretching across his forearm.
He had told himself to wait. To be patient.
But seeing those pictures, seeing Ira smile at another man, it twisted something inside him.
He tilted his head back slightly, breathing through clenched teeth, his throat tight.
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he whispered, voice low and trembling with restrained fury,
“Just… a little longer.”
The words came out like a promise. Or a threat.
"J..just a..little..longer."
~???~
Few days later…(Monday)
“You’ll have to start paying me for being your personal driver.” Ritika teased as she parked her scooter in front of the Rathore residence.
Ira hopped down, laughing, the sound soft as she handed Ritika the helmet.
Her red hair slipped free, catching a glint of sunlight. She ran her fingers through it absently, completely unaware of how effortlessly captivating she looked.
Ritika, however, wasn’t. She leaned on the handlebar, grinning.
“What?” Ira frowned, tugging her dupatta straight. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
Ritika just smirked. “I’m admiring you. Honestly, that Kunal guy is lucky. Even his parents are crazy about you.”
“Riri…” Ira’s cheeks flushed a soft shade of pink. “You’re impossible.”
Before Ritika could tease her more, a deep voice called from the gate.
“Miss Ira.”
They both turned. It was one of the same guard Ira use to see. But, his tone was polite just a bit hard.
Ira’s stomach tightened. “You should go.” she whispered quickly.
“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Ritika said, winking before speeding off down the lane.
Ira shook her head with a small smile. “Some friend you are.” she muttered under her breath.
The iron gates creaked as the guard opened them for her. She nodded politely, stepping into the mansion grounds.
“Good morning, ma’am.” he said politely.
“Good morning,” she replied softly
◇◇◇
The familiar air of Sandalwood scented faintly as she stepped in the mansion. A few maids greeted her as she passed, and Ira smiled warmly back.
For a moment, everything felt peaceful, until a voice cut through the silence.
“So this is the famous Ira.”
The deep tone froze her mid-step.
She turned, and nearly gasped.
The man standing there made her breath hitch. For a second, she thought it was Devraj.. The same sculpted features, the same intensity in his eyes, but older, and Devraj was far more intimidating though.
The weight of his gaze was suffocating.
He had that same quiet authority Devraj carried, except his was colder, honed from years of command.
There was no warmth, no softness aura around him.
“G-Greetings, sir.” she stammered, bowing her head slightly.
He didn’t answer immediately. He simply looked at her, unblinking, as if trying to read her soul.
“Papa, stop scaring her.” came a voice from beside him. Vivaan appeared, walking next to the older man with a disarming grin, hands casually in his pockets.
Mr Singh Rathore?
“Am I scaring you?” the older man asked suddenly, almost teasing, but it didn’t feel like a joke.
Ira swallowed, standing straighter even as her palms grew damp.
“No, sir.” she said softly, her tone steady despite her racing heart.
For a second, he continued to stare. Then his lips curved into a faint smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Good. Don’t mind me.” he said. “You can go. Devraj doesn’t tolerate lateness.”
Ira nodded quickly, murmuring a polite, “Y-yes, sir.”
She turned quickly, climbing the stairs with a racing heart, feeling his gaze trail her.
And for the first time, she wondered… if the coldness she sometimes felt from Devraj wasn’t inherited from that man standing below.
“I thought you said you and she were friends” his father said, arching a brow. “You didn’t act like it.”
Vivaan’s smile faltered. His hand came up to scratch the back of his neck, a nervous habit he couldn’t quite hide. “We are… it’s just–”
His father’s gaze sharpened. “Did Devraj tell you not to?”
The question hit like a cold wind. Vivaan hesitated for a heartbeat before nodding once.
A low chuckle rumbled from his father’s chest, deep, knowing, and faintly amused.
“I’m not surprised.” he murmured, his eyes flicking toward the staircase where Ira had stood moments ago.
For a second, his expression shifted,something unreadable passing through it, then it was gone.
He turned away, his footsteps echoing against the marble floor as he walked away, down the other corridor, the air seeming to grow heavier with every step he took.
Vivaan stood frozen, his throat tightening.
He looked up toward the staircase again, the same place where Ira had disappeared. A sigh escaped him, soft but weighted.
He did feel bad. Ira didn’t deserve to get a cold shoulder from him or not talk like the way he used, and not telling her what's going on, but his brother… Devraj wasn’t joking when he said to stay away.
Vivaan knew that tone. And when Devraj gave an order, it wasn’t a suggestion.
It was a warning.
Vivaan ran a hand down his face.
Because he also knew one more thing, when someone disobeyed his brother, anger wasn’t the only thing they should fear.