Chapter Forty Seven.
??~?~??
Meanwhile...
Ira stepped out of the cab, She stood for a moment, staring up at the towering glass facade of Mehra Enterprises.
Compared to the Rathore Company, it was smaller...unknowingly to her, it's a target that Devraj was already beginning to dismantle.
She fumbled with her purse, paid the driver with trembling hands, and hurried toward the building..
"I hate you so much, Devraj.." she whispered under her breath "I hate you."
She climbed the white marble steps, She passed through the security scanners and pushed through the heavy rolling glass doors.
Immediately, the lobby’s central air-conditioning hit her, chilling the sweat on her neck.
The lobby was vast and really clean. At the far end, two receptionists sat behind a polished granite desk. Ira approached them.
"Greetings..." Ira said, her voice wavering slightly.
The first receptionist looked up from her laptop, offering a professional smile.
"Good afternoon. How can we help you today, Ma'am?"
"I... I’m here to see Mr. Kunal Mehra.." Ira said, her grip tightening on the strap of the small lunch bag she was still carrying..
"Is he in his office?"
The two women exchanged a quick, subtle glance...the kind of look that said they had been dealing with a very stressful day. Their smiles faltered into frowns.
"I see.." the second girl said, her tone turning cautious. "And who may I say is asking for him?"
"Ira.. My name is Ira."
"Do you have a scheduled appointment with Mr. Mehra, Ms. Ira?" the first girl asked, her fingers poised over the keyboard.
"No, I don't.." Ira admitted, leaning over the desk slightly, her eyes pleading. "But please... just tell him I’m here. Tell him it’s urgent. It’s important. Please."
The receptionist hesitated, seeing the desperation in Ira’s eyes. She finally nodded and picked up the office phone, dialing the executive floor.
"Hi, is Mr. Mehra available?" the girl said into the receiver, her eyes shifting back to Ira. "There is a guest in the lobby. Ms. Ira... she says it’s urgent."
Silence stretched between them. Ira held her breath, watching the girl’s expression, praying that Kunal would just let her up..praying that Devraj’s voice on the phone hadn't already poisoned everything.
After what felt like an eternity, the receptionist hung up.
"Sir is not available right now.." the receptionist said. Her smile remained perfectly fixed, but her eyes were already moving back to her computer screen, effectively erasing Ira’s presence.
Ira blinked, her heart sinking.
"What? Please... just let me in–"
"Ma'am.." the second girl interrupted, her voice sharpening with irritation.
She didn't bother with the professional mask anymore.
"His assistant was very clear. He is not expecting anyone, he is extremely busy, and he does not want to be disturbed."
"What?" Ira whispered, the word barely escaping her throat..
"Unless you have a pre-scheduled appointment, I’m sorry. Sir is simply not available.." the girl repeated..
Ira’s shoulders slumped, the fight momentarily draining out of her.
She looked around the lobby, feeling exposed and unwelcome.
She breathed in and out, trying to still the trembling in her hands.
Please Kunal, pick up... she pleaded...
She dialed his number.
Ring...
Ring...
Ring...
She was just about to pull the phone away from her ear, when he picked.
"Hello..."
His voice was heavy, drained of its usual warmth. Hearing it made Ira sighed in relief..
"K... Kunal.." she breathed, her voice cracking.
"Ira?"
"Please... can you come down to the lobby? I’m here. I... I just need to talk to you. Please, Kunal."
The silence on the other end stretched out.
"...Okay.." he said finally.
A small, broken smile touched Ira’s lips. She nodded frantically, even though he couldn't see her.
"Thank you. I'm waiting."
Ira felt the weight of the receptionists' stares. She offered them a small smile...before retreating to the minimalistic couch in the corner. She sat on the very edge..
Ding.
The sound of the elevator echoed through the lobby. Ira’s head snapped toward the far wall. The silver doors slid open, and Kunal stepped out.
He looked... drained and tired.. His tie was loosened a bit, his hair was disheveled, and the dark circles under his eyes told the story of a man who hadn't slept well.
Ira was on her feet before he even cleared the elevator bank. She rushed to him, stopping him before he could reach the center of the lobby.
"Kunal? Are you okay? You look..." She reached out, her hand hovering near his arm but not quite touching him.
Kunal’s eyes met hers, then, a sad, weary smile ghosted across his lips..
"I’m... fine, Ira. Why are you here? You shouldn't have come."
The rejection in his tone stung but she swallowed the pain. She held out the lunch bag, her fingers trembling slightly.
"I brought you this. I thought... I thought you might not have eaten."
He glanced down at the bag...
"Kunal, I know there’s a misunderstanding. I know I’ve made mistakes, and I’m so, so sorry. Please.." she whispered.. "Just don’t ignore me. Talk to me."
Kunal looked at her... "Devraj... he was the one who picked up your phone a few hours ago, Ira.
He said you were together. He said it was a date.
" He let out a dry, hollow laugh. "Please, just...tell me the truth, before i go crazy... Is there something going on between you two? Something I’m too blind to see? "
"What? No! Kunal, no!" Ira’s voice rose in panic, causing a few people in the lobby to turn their heads.
Her eyes wide and pleading. "Nothing is happening. I swear on my life! I... I just happened to run into him when I went to get this lunch for you. He just showed up out of nowhere!"
"And he just... snatched your phone?" Kunal asked, his voice flat, unconvinced.
"Yes! That was all him. He took it from my hand before I could react. Kunal, I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry."
Kunal gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing as he lowered his gaze to the floor.
He let out a long, shuddering sigh..
"I... I’m sorry too, Ira.." Kunal said, his voice thick with a mixture of shame and exhaustion.
"I just got so...jealous... and so damn scared. I didn't know how to handle what I was feeling. I thought if I picked up your calls, I’d say something I couldn't take back. I just needed to clear my head. I'm sorry for shutting you out."
Ira felt a massive weight lift off her chest. "It’s okay.." she whispered, her voice trembling with relief. "So... are we cool now? Is everything okay between us?"
Instead of answering with words, Kunal pulled her into a sudden hug. He buried his face in her hair, holding her as if she were the only thing keeping him grounded.
He pulled back just enough to press a soft kiss to her forehead.
"Very much okay and i..i was thinking.." Kunal looked into her eyes.. "why don't we get marr–"
“Sir! Mr. Mehra! Sir!”
The shouting shattered the moment. They both turned to see a young man, from the finance department, sprinting across the floor, clutching a tablet. He was pale, his tie flying over his shoulder.
"What's wrong? What happened?" Kunal asked, his protective stance over Ira instantly shifting into professional alertness.
"Sir, we have a huge problem! A catastrophe!" The assistant thrust the tablet toward Kunal.
As Kunal read the screen, Ira watched the life drain out of his face.
His skin went from pale to a ghostly, sickly grey. His hands began to shake.
"W...Why was the deal frozen? The offshore accounts... and the investors? Why are they pulling out now?" Kunal’s voice was high, the sound of a man watching his life’s work disintegrate in real-time.
"We don't know, Sir! It’s like a coordinated strike. Everything is being locked down from the outside. We’re being bled dry and we can't figure out who is behind the firewall. We need you upstairs. Now!"
Kunal looked at the tablet, then back at Ira, his eyes wide with a panicked, shattered look.
"I have to go, Ira.." he said, his voice hollow. "I’ll call you when I can. I promise. Thank you for this..." He gripped the lunch bag like a lifeline, but his mind was already miles away, buried in spreadsheets and ruin.
Without another word, he turned and ran toward the elevators, following the assistant into the silver doors.
Ira stood frozen as the doors slid shut.
She stood alone in the center of the vast, cold lobby. She let out a long, shaky sigh, her heart sinking into her stomach.
"I hope all is okay..." she whispered as she walked out of the company..
~??~?~??~
Devraj’s hands were steady on the steering wheel as he sped away from the decaying stench of Samar’s territory.
His phone vibrated against the console. He glanced at the caller ID..
Advik..and hit the speaker.
"Devraj, it’s done.." Advik’s voice crackled through the car. "Everything you asked for. Mehra Enterprises is in a freefall. Although, They just sent an urgent email, begging for a meeting, I assume. I haven’t replied. You can look through the wreckage tonight and decide the next move."
A smirk spread across Devraj’s face.
"Perfect.." he murmured. "Let them wait. Let them panic."
"Also, what the fuck are you doing so far away from the city?" Advik’s tone shifted to genuinely concerned.
"What? Are you my mother now, Advik?" Devraj asked,boredly, almost dismissive.
"Dude, I’m serious! Your location is spotted near Samar’s territory. That man is a psychopathic sadist, Devraj. Even the Family is wary of him. He’s not someone to play games with, and you know that better than anyone."
Devraj’s grip on the steering wheel tightened until the leather creaked. He thought of the scarred, grey eye and the smell of cheap tobacco.
"I needed to take care of a loose end. A pest problem."
"And that was?"
Devraj hissed.. "I’ll send you the details by tonight. Focus on the Mehra shares." He cut the call before Advik could ask anything else.
He stared at the road ahead, but his mind flashed back to the car ride with Ira.
He could still feel the sting of her palm against his skin. Most men would be humiliated by a woman slapping them.
Devraj was fascinated.
He touched his cheek, a dark, hollow look in his amber eyes. He didn't just want her love, he wanted her fire, that fire was only for him.
"Every obstacle... one by one, I will burn them down.." he whispered. "I will clear the path until there is no one left for you to turn to but me."
He slammed his foot on the accelerator, the engine roaring as the car shot forward, racing back toward the city..
~??~?~??~
The doors of the mansion swung open and Devraj stepped in.. His suit jacket was slung carelessly over his arm, his tie was gone, and his hair was messy.
The sound of clinking silverware echoed from the dining hall. His parents were seated there with Vivaan, and beside Mrs. Rathore sat Rani.
"Oh, Devraj... you’re home.." Mrs. Rathore said, her face lighting up.
The greeting drew everyone’s focus. Rani’s head snapped up, her eyes sparkling with a hunger she barely tried to hide.
"Hi, Devraj.." she beamed..
Devraj’s gaze flickered to her for a fraction of a second...a cold, dismissive glance...before he looked toward his parents.
His eyes locked with his father’s stern, unyielding stare, a silent exchange of power between two generations of Rathore men.
"Son, are you alright? You look exhausted.." Mrs. Rathore asked.
Devraj didn't offer a word of explanation.. He simply turned and headed for the grand staircase, his footsteps heavy against the floor as he retreated into his own room.
Mrs. Rathore let out a long, weary sigh. The silence at the table was thick until she turned to her younger son.
"Vivaan?"
"Yes, Ma?" Vivaan replied, though his eyes remained fixed on his plate.
"About... um, Ira.." she began, "Have you had any luck getting in touch with her?"
Vivaan sighed..."No, Maa. I don't have her number, i really don't want Devraj to kill me. But, i sent her couple of messages on her Instagram, she is not replying..and her account is private.. it's like she wants nothing to do with us."
Rani tilted her head, her expression one of faux-innocence.
"Ira? Oh, isn't that the maid who was looking after Devraj when he was still trying to heal?"
The clatter of Vivaan’s fork hitting the porcelain echoed through the room. He leveled a warning glare at her.
"She is not a maid, Rani. I’ve told you that before. Don’t use that word again."
Rani shrank back slightly, her lower lip trembling in a pout.
"I... I’m so sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."
Vivaan didn't buy the act. He pushed his chair back with a harsh scrape against the floor and stood up, the appetite drained out of him.
"I’m done eating.." he said, turning and leaving..
Rani watched Vivaan’s retreating back..
"Why is he so angry with me? I said I was sorry.." Rani whispered, her voice trembling with a perfectly rehearsed innocence.
Mrs. Rathore, reached out and patted her shoulder comfortingly.
"Don't take it to heart, dear. He's just stressed from work.." she said softly.
"But lately, Vivaan has been acting so strange.." Rani continued, leaning into the sympathy. "He’s always snapping at me, always so defensive..."
As Mrs. Rathore listened and offered gentle words of comfort, Mr. Rathore sat at the head of the table, silent and observant.
He was no fool, he could see the flickers of calculation behind Rani’s innocent eyes.
"I... I should go and check on Vivaan.." Rani said, standing up with a look of feigned concern.
Mrs. Rathore smiled and nodded, watching her go. But Mr. Rathore’s gaze followed her..
"A cunning woman, that one.." he mumbled to himself once she was out of earshot.
"Dear..." his wife called softly. He turned to her, "Do you think... if I talk to Ira... if I explain things..get her stuffs... she will listen? Will she agree to marry our son?"
Mr. Rathore stared at his wife for a long moment, the gravity of her question hanging in the air.
"Ira is a rare type.." he said, his voice resonant with a cold respect.
"She is a devoted, principled young lady. I’ll give her that credit.
But one thing about women like her? No amount of money or status can buy their compliance.
You cannot satisfy her interest because her heart isn't for sale. "
Mrs. Rathore’s shoulders slumped, her hope beginning to wither.
"I know you are trying to help. But, Let Devraj handle it.." Mr. Rathore added, his eyes turning toward the stairs where his eldest son had disappeared. "It will be messy. It will be violent. But in the end? He will get what he wants. He always does."
Mrs. Rathore let out a heavy sigh, nodding slowly as the chilling truth of her husband's words settled over the room.
~??~?~??~
Devraj stripped off his shirt, tossing it onto his bed, and had his hands on his belt buckle when a knock echoed through the room.
A flash of irritation crossing his face.
He strode over and wrenched the door open, only to find Rani standing there.
Her breath hitched the moment the door swung wide. Her eyes didn't go to his face..they immediately dropped to his bare, muscular chest before trailing lower, lingering on the line of his waist where his hands still rested on his belt.
She swallowed hard, her composure momentarily shattered by the sight of him.
Devraj cleared his throat...the sound snapped her back to reality.
She blinked, looking up at him, but Devraj’s furrowed brow only deepened.
"What do you want, Rani?" he asked..
"Oh... um, I... I..." she stuttered, her teeth grazing her lower lip as she struggled to find her voice. "Your... um, your legs. They’re much better now. You’re walking perfectly."
Devraj stared at her, his expression turning stony.
"What. Do. You. Want?" he repeated, each word heavy with warning.
Rani let out a soft sigh, trying to regain her footing.
"Devraj... can I talk to you? Privately?"
"We are already talking.." he countered, not moving an inch to let her pass. "Speak fast. I have important matters to attend to."
"I... I mean, inside.." she whispered, gesturing toward the dim interior of his room.
"It’s a long conversation, Devraj."
Devraj didn't budge. He stood there, his unyielding gaze pinning her to the spot.
Rani sighed again, realizing she wasn't going to get the intimate setting she wanted.
"Fine.." she breathed, her cheeks flushing with a delicate pink. "Devraj... I actually... I really do like you. More than just–."
"Yeah.." Devraj replied, "I know."
Rani blinked, her heart leaping into her throat. "R... really? You knew? You noticed?" A hopeful, happy smile broke across her face as she stepped closer, invading his personal space.
"Yes..." his voice flat and devoid of any emotion
"That means... you must also know... how much I want you, Devraj.." she whispered, her face burning with a triumphant blush.
She slowly reached out, her fingers trembling with anticipation as she aimed for the bare skin of his chest.
Before she could make contact, Devraj’s hand shot out.
He holds down on her wrist. It was bone crushing.
Rani let out a cry of pain, her knees buckling.
"Devraj! Ah! You’re... you’re hurting me!"
Devraj didn't loosen his hold. He leaned in, his face inches from hers, his amber eyes freezing her blood.
"You are my little brother’s girlfriend.." Devraj said, his lip curling in a sneer of pure disgust. "I don’t even think you deserve someone as decent as him. You spend your time hovering over his brother like a vulture."
He shoved her wrist away with such force that she stumbled back, hitting the opposite wall of the hallway.
Rani was breathing in short gasps, her heart pounding against her ribs as she stared at the man she had idealized.
"Stay away from me, Rani.." Devraj warned, "Or I will handle this myself. And believe me, you won't like my methods."
Without waiting for a response, he slammed the door shut.
Rani stood there, her wrist throbbing, her teeth gritted. She didn't love Vivaan, she never had.
He was just the consolation prize. When her parents had first mentioned the Rathore sons, she had seen Vivaan on a magazine cover..successful, handsome, running a legacy.
She had chosen him then. But the moment she laid eyes on Devraj, the real lion of the family, she knew she had made a catastrophic mistake.
By then, Devraj was already with Alia, and the path was blocked. Every visit, every caring gesture she made toward him while he was on wheelchair, had been a desperate attempt to rewrite her choice.
She gulped, her eyes dark with a mixture of humiliation and resentment.
She turned and walked away.