Chapter Twenty Six.
“…and no harm was done.” the voice on the other side of the call reassured him.
Devraj’s amber eyes, fixed on nothing in particular, yet every detail around him seemed to magnify.
the faint stir of the curtains, the shadow of his crutch leaning against the bed, the dim glow of his laptop screen illuminating the hard line of his jaw. His fingers clenched tighter around the phone.
He was listening, absorbing every word, said.
The rain outside whispered of coming storms, but inside his room, a darker storm brewed...one entirely his own.
“How many are they?” His voice cut through the line, carrying a calm that threatened to snap at any moment.
“They’re six in total..” the voice replied.
“Did anyone touch her?” Devraj’s voice was quieter now, almost venomous, each word loaded.
“No one, sir.”
His jaw clenched harder, a muscle ticking. “Find out who they are… and why they’re near her. Every detail. I want to know everything.”
“Yes, sir.” the driver said, and the line went dead.
Devraj lowered the phone slightly, but his gaze never left the shadows dancing on the walls.
Lightning flashed outside, briefly illuminating his features, the glint of obsession in his amber eyes almost feral.
He exhaled slowly, almost savoring the tension.
No one touches her. No one… he thought, letting the words echo in the hollow of his chest.
The storm outside seemed to respond, wind rattling the curtains, the rain threatening to pour, heavily..but Devraj was already immersed in his own tempest, his gaze fixed on the idea of her, the notion of possession, and the unyielding need to control every shadow that dared cross her path.
~??????~
The wind slapped against the window as Ira pushed it shut, her fingers trembling from the sudden chill rolling through the room.
The rain had gone from a light drizzle to angry drops that rattled the panes.
Once the latch clicked, she exhaled and brushed her damp hair back, turning toward her bed.
Her phone lit up before she even sat down.
She picked it up, frowning the moment she saw the caller ID.
Why is Sir calling this late?
Her brows knitted. It was 9:07 p.m. now.
She hesitated, thumb hovering over the screen.
Before she could decide, the call cut off.
She blinked.
Then it vibrated again..this time Ritika’s name flashing.
Relieved, Ira slumped on the bed and answered.
“Hey, Riri.”
“Heyyyyyyyyy..” Ritika dragged dramatically, sounding like she was melting off the sofa. Ira couldn’t help but laugh softly.
“Are you okay?” Ira asked.
“Nooooo.”
“What’s wrong?”
“My mom just told me Aunt Indira is coming to stay with us next week.”
Ira burst into laughter before she could stop herself.
Aunt Indira.
The human embodiment of judgment, gossip, and unsolicited advice.
The one time Ira met her, she’d talked nonstop for thirty minutes about why Ira’s eyebrows were “too straight” and gosh, it wasn’t..and why girls her age should “stop wasting time and get married.”
Ira doesn't like her.
“It’s not funny!” Ritika whined. “How am I supposed to survive two whole weeks with her breathing down my neck?”
“You can come stay with me until she leaves.” Ira said gently. “Like you always do.”
Ritika groaned loud enough for Ira to picture her face buried in a pillow.
“Oh, how I wish. But apparently not this time. My mother..knowing exactly how much I hate Aunt Indira..already drafted me as a babysitter for my cousins. According to her, I need to supervise their movements.” Ritika grumbled dramatically.
Ira giggled. “Aw, looks like you can’t pray your way out of this one. Sorry, babe.”
“Yeah, yeah..” she muttered. “This rain is getting really heavy. I pray it continues till tomorrow so I don’t have to go to work.”
Ira laughed softly.
“Speaking of work… how’s the Rathore mansion treating you?” Ritika asked.
“It was… okay. I mean, even if it wasn’t, I’m not going to be working there forever.” Ira shrugged.
“Any other bitch look for your trouble?”
Ira pressed her lips together.
“Not really. But something strange… my boss had an affair.”
There was a full second of silence...then Ritika exploded.
“WAIT, WHAT?!” She nearly shouted. “That gorgeous man? Him? Mr. Emotionless himself had a relationship? Are you sure? Is not in the news!”
Ira pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling. “Yeah. I wasn’t surprised, honestly. She was beautiful and gentle when I met her. But… after our last encounter, she started giving me an uncomfortable feeling.”
“Uncomfortable how?” Ritika asked, suddenly very awake.
“Well…” Ira hesitated. “She accused me of… Sir treating me differently. As if there was something going on between us.”
A ripple of unease crawled down Ira’s spine just remembering it.
Why would she even say that? Why would she even think that?
“Woah!!! Girl!!! That’s..that’s weird.” Ritika sounded genuinely disturbed.
“Very weird. I was glad Kunal came, honestly. I made it clear to her that I have someone.” Ira said, rolling her eyes lightly, ritika chuckled.
“That’s a nice save but–Ma!!” Ritika suddenly snapped as her mother yelled something in the background.
“Ughhh… I’m on a call, Ma!” Ritika groaned, and Ira couldn’t help laughing at the chaos.
“So annoying to have young ones..” Ritika muttered under her breath.
“I’ll have to go now. I love you… goodnight.” she said.
Ira couldn’t help but laugh. “Go, go. Goodnight, I love you too.” they hung up.
Ira set her phone down and flipped open her laptop, but almost immediately a deafening crack of thunder split through the sky.
The window rattled hard, and she flinched, hand pressed against her chest as the rain began hammering louder against the glass.
Then her phone lit up again.
Her brows pulled together as she looked at the caller.
Sir?? Why was he calling again?
She hesitated, glanced at the time..
She answered. “Hello, S–”
“Who were you talking to?”
His voice was low, hard..almost… wounded.
Ira blinked. “I was on a call with my–”
“Kunal again?” The bitterness in his tone was sharp. “Why do you have to call him every time?”
Her stomach tightened in confusion. “Sir, there’s nothing wrong if I call him.”
“I called first..” he cut in, voice rough and unsteady beneath the anger. “Why didn’t you pick my call? Does he have to come first in everything?”
Ira froze, eyes widening.
What??
“Sir…?”
“I’m here too.” he said, voice dropping into something rawer, cracked at the edges. “You’re supposed to check on me. Why is it so hard for you to do that?”
Shock rolled over her.
Was he… serious?
“Sir–” she began carefully, but he wasn’t done.
“I’m always here, Ira. Why… why are you not seeing me too?” His breath wavered. “You see everyone around you, but not me.”
Ira frowned deeply, confused and thrown off balance.
What?
Is he blind? Don’t I work for him?
What is he talking about? How am I not seeing him? I literally work for him every day…
“What are you talking about, sir? I work for you.” Ira said as she pushed herself off the bed, nerves suddenly alert.
Silence followed.
Nothing but the crackle of rain and the soft static of the line.
“Sir?” she asked softly.
Then, his voice, low and raspy. Like something inside him finally snapped.
“Do… do you like me, Ira?”
Ira froze. Her breath caught in her throat. She pulled the phone away from her ear, checked the screen...his number..then pressed it back again.
“What?” Her tone was barely above a whisper.
“Do you like me, Ira.”
Not a question this time.
A demand. His voice hardening, tightening, as if her answer already mattered far more than it should.
Her lips parted, stunned.
Like him?
What the hell was he even implying?
Surely he didn’t mean..like him like him.
She had a fiancé. No sane man would ask a woman in a relationship something like that.
Ira inhaled deeply to steady herself.
“The only people I like are my friends, sir..” she said carefully.
“I don’t know what ‘like’ you mean, but we’re not friends.
I don’t… like you?. Not in any personal way.
And we’re not close, so I can’t like you in that way either.
As my boss, yes, workers appreciate their boss. But I’m just your caregiver, sir.”
The line stayed quiet for a second.
Then something slammed in the background.., harsh, like something heavy hitting the floor or a wall.
Ira jumped.
Her heart lurched.
“Are you okay, sir?” she asked quickly, brows knitting.
A strained breath hit the receiver.
“Goodnight.” he said.
Just like that.
Abrupt and cold. But somehow… burning.
Ira stared at her phone, frowning deeply, the echo of that crack still ringing in her ears and a strange heaviness curling in her stomach.
~??????~
Meanwhile, at the Rathore Mansion…
“Shit!” Vivaan snapped as he stumbled through the front doors, completely drenched.
His clothes clung to his skin, hair dripping onto the floors.
“Vivaan?!” his mother gasped, storming toward him.
“Didn’t I tell you to come home before the rain started? You never listen!”
He dragged a wet hand through his hair with a sigh.
“Ma, I’m fine. It’s just a little–achoo!”
The sneeze exploded out of him, echoing around the place.
His mother placed her hands on her hips dramatically.
“And now the cold has started. Again! Why must you be so stubborn?” she scolded, pinching his ear before he could react.
“Ow–Ma! Stop!” Vivaan winced and twisted away.
“Achooo!”
This one came three times in a row, enough to shake his shoulders. His nose was already turning a pathetic shade of red.
“Oh God, it’s getting worse.” She clicked her tongue and grabbed his arm. “Go to your room. I’ll ask the maids to prepare hot water for your bath, and I’ll prepare soup. Go! Before you collapse on my floor.”
Vivaan sniffled miserably but nodded, trudging toward the stairs.
“Aish, such a stubborn boy.” she muttered under her breath.
Then..
CRACK.
A violent, jarring sound thundered through the mansion, loud enough that the maids jumped and froze mid-step.
The chandelier trembled. Even Vivaan paused halfway up the stairs, turning back.
“What was that?” he muttered.
His mother went still.
“Devraj.”
She turned.
Her husband was approaching from the dim hallway, his expression unreadable, hands clasped tightly behind his back…
"That's Devraj." He casually said.
“What? Is he hurt?” she asked, hurrying toward the stairs, panic threading her voice.
Her husband’s hand shot out, stopping her mid-step.
“Let him be… for now. He is...fine.” he said, his voice calm but something felt off to her.
“For now? What does that mean? Did you see what happened? What if he’s hurt? Or fell?!” she pressed, her voice rising, eyes wide with fear.
He turned slowly toward her. His gaze… it was just like Devraj’s dark, deep, and unnervingly intense. It pinned her where she stood, made her chest tighten.
“You will get hurt if you go, it's Devraj we are talking about. ” he said quietly, but each word dripped with authority.
“Worry about Vivaan now..he is cold.”
She swallowed hard, confusion and worry warring inside her.
There was something in his eyes…. She wanted to step closer, to push past it, but the weight of his stare held her back.
“What if he..” she started again, but he cut her off.
“He is fine.” he said, final.
Before she could respond, he turned and walked away, Something wasn’t right… and she knew it.
~??????~
“Papa? I have sent the money to Raghav, he will go to the bank to withdraw it.” Ira said, her voice calm.
Her father’s eyes softened, and he pulled her into a tight hug. “Okay beta… be careful, okay?”
“I will, Papa.” she said, brushing a stray hair behind her ear, her gaze flicking to her older brother.
He nodded solemnly, a silent acknowledgment of her caution.
Ira’s lips curved into a small, warm smile. “Alright then, can we all have a smile?” she teased lightly, and, as if on cue, their tension broke.
Her father chuckled, her brother smiled, and her mother followed. Ira’s heart swelled at the sight.
“Alright. I will get going.” she said, stepping back and adjusting her tote bag.
“Stay safe beta, and be careful.” her mother reminded once more.
Ira nodded and stepped outside. The morning air was crisp, carrying the remnants of last night’s heavy rain.
It clung to her skin, cold but refreshing, and she tightened her dupatta around her shoulders, shivering slightly.
Her mind wandered briefly to the day ahead at Devraj’s mansion, and a shiver ran deeper than the cold.
With a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and walked on, wrapping herself against the chill.