Chapter Fifty Seven.
The screen flickered and Devraj’s face filled the frame.
He was leaning back in his chair, the lines of his jaw and the intensity of his amber eyes softened. Ira felt her stomach do a nervous flip.
She forced her lips into a tight smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"Hi..." she mumbled.
Devraj just stared at her, his gaze lingering on her features.
It was the kind of look that felt like a touch, possessive, and deeply uncomfortable. Every passing second felt like a minute under that spotlight for Ira.
"Okay.." Ira said, clearing her throat to break the suffocating silence. "Now that you’ve seen me, we can switch back to–"
"Can I watch you?" he interrupted breathlessly.
Ira’s brow furrowed into a frown. "Watch me?.."
Devraj didn't even look offended. He just offered smile that made Ira’s skin prickle.
"I mean... you said you were working. I just want to watch you work.."
Ira blinked, her mind reeling. That’s what he meant? she thought, her mind screaming.
Who sits and watches someone type an email?
"I don't need you to–" She started to refuse, but then she caught herself.
A lightbulb went off in her head, and her expression shifted from irritation to sweet.
"Actually... sure. You can watch.." she said, flashing him a bright, sugary smile.
Devraj’s frowned.. She looked suspicious for a split second, usually, Ira would have fought him for ten minutes on principle alone.
But the suspicion was quickly drowned out by a wave of intoxicating happiness. He leaned forward, his eyes bright.
She’s finally letting me in.. he thought. She’s starting to understand how much I need her.
Ira, meanwhile, was mentally cackling.
Watch me all you want, you obsessive freak.. she thought. See how boring my life is...You’ll be bored to tears in twenty minutes.
She put her phone and snapped it into the stand on her study desk.
The new angle gave Devraj a wide view of her room, the organized chaos of her books, the soft lighting, and Ira herself, centered in the frame.
Without another word, Ira turned back to focused on her laptop screen.
She began to type, as she resumed her email, completely ignoring Devraj who was currently treating her everyday life like a masterpiece.
~??~
Seconds bled into minutes.
From time to time, her eyes would flicker to the video call at the corner.
Every single time, there he was, leaning his chin on his hand, a soft, dazed smile on his face, staring at her.
The discomfort was crawling under her skin. She finally hit Send with more force than necessary and then she now fully faced the camera.
"Don’t you have something...anything..better to do?" Ira snapped. "Meetings? Site visits? Buying a country? Anything at all that doesn't involve staring at me through a piece of glass?"
Devraj blinked slowly, the smile never leaving his lips. He shook his head with the lazy grace.
"No.." he said simply. "And even if I did, I can just tell my assistant to reschedule. The world can wait, Meri Jaan.."
Ira mentally facepalmed. He is too much. He is way, way too much.
"You are so beautiful, Meri Jaan." Devraj said, breathlessly. "Especially when you’re focused. I watched you for the last ten minutes... you have this habit of creasing your temple when you’re thinking. You bite your lip when you’re concentrating.
Your eyes... they spark when you get a sentence right, and then they dull when you’re stuck.
Your emotions are the most fascinating thing I’ve ever seen. "
Ira’s mouth fell open, she felt a cold shiver race down her spine. He hadn't just been watching her, he had been dissecting her.
"What the hell...?" she whispered, her stun bordering on fear.
"But what I love more.." Devraj continued, his eyes glinting with a terrifying dark sweetness.
"is that scent of yours. Last month, I ordered a full supply of every jasmine product on the market.
I had them all delivered to my private villa.
None of them were quite right, none of them had that specific, intoxicating note that only comes from your skin, but they were close enough to keep me from losing my mind while you were away. "
Ira froze... He had been surrounding himself with her scent in the dark.
"What do you like about me, Ira?" He suddenly asked.
Ira’s brain went into immediate shut-down mode. Her mind raced, grasping at straws while her heart was beating.
"Um... I... you are... um, good-looking?" she mumbled, the words feeling weak and hollow even to her own ears.
Devraj’s smile vanished. His face petrified, his eyes narrowing as he leaned closer to his camera.
"You are lying.." he said flatly.
Ira’s eyes widened, her breath hitching in her throat.
"I–"
"When you lie, you fidget with your fingers.." Devraj interrupted, "Your eyes move to the left, and your posture stiffens. You lose that feisty spark that usually makes you so confident. You look nervous, Meri Jaan. And you are never nervous unless you are hiding something."
Ira let out an audible gasp, her chair creaking as she recoiled. The realization hit her hard.
"Did you... do you stalk me too??"
"Yes.." he said, without a shred of shame or hesitation. "I do. I won't lie about my feelings for you, Ira. I have studied every version of you." He leaned back, his intensity never wavering. "Now, I’ll ask you again. What do you like about me?"
He's a crazy, persistent, egotistical, insane, arrogant man. She wanted to scream it at him, but instead, she took a long, shaky breath and forced herself to look him in the eye, trying to steady her fluttering heart.
"You are an interesting person, Devraj..
" she said, her voice regaining some of its feisty edge.
"Unlike you, I haven't spent months stalking you to study your habits.
I didn't have a file on you. So, it might take me some time to actually know you.
" She paused, searching for something that wasn't a total lie.
"But... you are handsome. And clearly, you’re hardworking.
You built an empire, even if you use it to bully people. "
Devraj felt his heart thudding against his ribs he couldn't control.
He didn't care about the insult at the end, all he heard was that she found him handsome and Hardworking.
He nodded slowly..
"Hardworking." he repeated. "I will work just as hard to make you love me more, Meri Jaan. I promise you that."
"Um... well, I actually have something I need to do now." Ira said, her voice tight with the desperate need to escape his gaze.
"It’s okay.." Devraj replied. "Go ahead. I’ll just stay here and watch."
Ira’s eyes snapped to the camera and glared, replacing her forced politeness.
"It’s something private, Devraj! You said you wanted to see my face, you’ve seen it. Now I have to go."
Before he could argue, she leaned in, her finger hovering over the red icon.
"Wait, Ira! I–"
Click.
The connection severed. Ira leaned back in her chair and let out a sigh that turned into a groan. She buried her face in her hands.
"Ugh! I need help..." she mumbled. "He’s not just obsessed, he’s literally memorizing my soul."
~??~?~??~
Devraj sat frozen, staring at the blank, black screen of his phone. The room was silent for a heartbeat before a familiar, mocking voice broke it.
"So... is that Ira?"
Devraj’s face transformed instantly. The soft, dazed longing vanished, replaced by the cold expression.
He looked up to see Advik leaning against the doorframe, a smirk playing on his lips.
"I just knew it had to be her.." Advik said, stepping into the office casually. "Especially when I heard you canceled the demolition.."
Devraj didn't even offer a witty retort. Instead, he leaned back into his leather throne, his fingers steepled under his chin as he stared at his friend with a hauntingly serious expression.
"Advik.." Devraj said, "Can I get some advice from you?"
Advik froze, his smirk faltering for a split second before growing into a wide disbelieving grin.
The Devraj?? asking for advice? The world really was turning upside down.
~?~
Thud. Crack. Thud.
Samar’s knuckles were raw, but he didn't feel the sting.
Every time his fist collided with the heavy leather bag, he didn't see sand and stitching, he saw Devraj’s arrogant face.
Punch.
"Bastard.." he hissed.
Punch.
The chain holding the bag groaned under the assault, the metal links rattling violently.
Samar was a blur of motion, his movements fueled by rage that had been simmering since the moment Devraj interfere his encounter with Ira.
But then, the image in his mind shifted. Devraj’s face vanished, replaced by the one of Ira’s eyes, the way she looked at him with that feistiness.
His eyes widened as he breathed out and threw one final, bone-shattering hook that sent the bag swinging wildly.
He stopped. He grabbed the bag, burying his face against the cool leather as his breath came in a desperate lunges.
His chest heaved, sweat dripping from his chin onto the gym floor.
He gritted his teeth so hard his jaw ached.
The iron door to the dimly lit gym creaked open. One of his men stood in the threshold, his silhouette framed by the hallway light.
"Sir?"
"What?" Samar growled.
He let go of the bag and straightened his spine, his muscles rippling and flexing under his damp shirt as he turned to face the intruder. His eyes were cold, fixed on the man with stillness.
"Deepak is outside. He’s... he’s demanding to see you, sir."
Samar stared at him for a beat, his mind already spinning with the possibilities. He gave a dismissive wave of his hand.
"Let him in."
The man nodded quickly and vanished. Samar walked over to a bench, grabbing a bottle of water. He unscrewed the cap and tilted his head back, the cold liquid barely soothing the fire in his throat.
He was halfway through the bottle when the door swung open again. Samar didn't turn his head, he just shifted his gaze to the side.
Deepak stumbled into the room, looking like a man who had been dragged through hell and back. His clothes were disheveled, his face was pale, and he looked like he hadn't slept in days.
Samar slowly lowered the bottle, the water dripping from his lip as he set it down on the bench.
The gym grew deathly quiet, the only sound the faint swaying of the punching bag.
"What are you doing here?" Samar flatly asked.
He reached for a gray towel, draped it around his neck, and began wiping the grime from his face.
"Ira! I... I haven't gotten any message yet! It’s taking too long, Samar! Too long!" Deepak’s voice cracked.
At the mention of her name, Samar flinched. It was a reflex, an involuntary twitch of his shoulder as her image flashed behind his eyelids, the fire in her emerald eyes.
He squeezed his eyes shut for a second, violently shaking the thought away before it could take root.
"Getting close to her isn't as easy as I thought it would be.." Samar said, dropping the towel onto a bench.
He walked toward the pull-up bar, his silhouette stretching long against the wall.
"Devraj watches her more than a mother hen watching over her chicks. He’s built a fortress around her."
"Why?! Why does it have to be him!" Deepak was trembling now, his hands shaking so violently he had to tuck them into his pockets.
Tears welled in his bloodshot eyes, threatening to spill over.
Samar paused, his hands gripping the cold iron of the bar. He looked over his shoulder, narrowing his eyes at the pathetic sight of the man behind him.
This fucker is high on something.. Samar thought with a surge of pure disgust.
Drugs, obsession, or both. How can one woman damage a man this badly?
"Go home, Deepak.." Samar sternly instructed. He turned fully, staring the man down. "You don't look okay. You look like a corpse."
Deepak clutched his head, his fingers digging into his scalp as if he were trying to pull the memories out.
"Just one look from her! Just one! That’s all I need!"
"Go home! Now!"
The command echoed off the weight racks. Deepak gasped, his head snapping up to see the cold glare fixed on him.
The raw authority in Samar’s eyes was enough to break through the haze of whatever was poisoning Deepak’s system.
Trembling, stumbling over his own feet, Deepak turned and scurried out of the gym.
Samar watched the iron door swing shut, the silence rushing back in to fill the space. He furrowed his brow, a dark cloud settling over his features.
"He’s fucked up.." Samar whispered. "Really bad. All because of her..."
He turned back to the pull-up bar, but as he reached up, her image returned, stronger, clearer, more haunting than before.
He gulped, his throat feeling tight, and his knuckles turned white as he clenched his fists.
He shook his head again, violently this time! A growl vibrating in his chest.
She was an infection, and it seemed no one was immune.
~??~
"Ahh!"
Thwack.
The small throwing knife buried itself deep into the wooden frame resting on her vanity.
Rani’s chest heaved, her silk robe slipping off one shoulder as she reached for another blade from the velvet-lined case on her bed.
"I hate you!" she screamed her voice cracking "I hate you so fucking much!"
Thwack.
Another knife struck. Rani was in a total breakout mode, a rage. Her hair was disheveled, her eyes bloodshot and wild, staring at the target.
"It’s all your fault!" she whispered. "I... I can’t have him because of you. You’re the poison in his blood."
She picked up the last knife, her knuckles white as she gripped the hilt. She stepped closer.
"I want you to vanish. I want you gone from his sight, erased from his memory! Maybe then... I could fix this. I could be the one by his side! You came here with your innocent act and you took him FROM ME!"
She threw the final blade. It pierced the very center of the frame, right between the jade eyes of the girl in the photograph.
The smiling face of Ira stared back at her, now marred by a dozen holes and silver steel.
Just then, the door to Rani’s room open. She didn't even turn around, her chest still rising and falling in angry.
"Still obsessing over him?..."
The voice was elegant. Rani finally looked toward the doorway.
Her mother stood there, her diamonds glinting in the dim light, her expression softened by a look of pity.
"He was supposed to be mine!" Rani shrieked, her voice cracking as she clutched the edge of her dresser.
"I saw him first!!"
Her mother just stood in the doorway, in elegant, icy composure.
"You picked Vivaan, Rani. You made your choice when you thought the younger brother was more successful and young. You cannot simply swap them like pieces of jewelry."
"I don't want Vivaan anymore!" Rani yelled, her face contorting with desperation.
"Maa, please. Talk to the Rathores. Tell them there’s been a mistake. I want Devraj. I need him. Please, Maa... do something!"
"I'm sorry, Rani." her mother replied flatly. "But I can't do anything now. You made your choice, and Devraj... he isn't a man who takes orders from anyone, least of all us."
Her mother’s gaze drifted upward, finally landing on the vanity. She frowned, her eyes narrowing as she took in the sight of the silver knives buried deep into the wooden frame.
The steel glinted under the chandelier, pinning a beautiful, smiling face to the wood.
"Who is she?" her mother asked, gesturing toward the mangled frame.
Rani’s gaze snapped back to the frame, her loathing so potent. She didn't answer. She couldn't even say the name without feeling like she was choking.
"Leave my room." Rani hissed instead.
She looked at her daughter, not with love, but with the cold gaze of a woman who saw a failing investment.
"You need to let go of this obsession before it ruins you, Rani." her mother said. "I came to check on you because you refused to eat dinner. I will tell the maid to bring up your favorite. Please, eat. Starving yourself won't make him look at you."
Without another word, she turned and walked out of the room.
Rani walked over to the vanity and reached out, her fingers trembling as she gripped the hilt of the knife buried in Ira’s forehead.
She pulled it out with a slow screech of metal against wood.
"I will have him.." she vowed.."I will. Whatever it takes.. I’ll start with you.. i need to get you off the picture."
???