Chapter Sixty One.
Devraj pulled the car into a private parking space in front of an incredibly luxurious restaurant.
It wasn't flashy or modern, it had that old money elegance that felt timeless. Ira stepped out, her eyes wide as she took in the sight.
"Wow..." she whispered, the beauty of the place taking her breath away.
"Breathtaking, isn't it? This entire establishment belongs to Arjun’s wife.." Devraj remarked closing his door and rounded the car, walking over to her side.
Ira turned to him, her eyes wide with shock. "Someone actually married him? The Mafia King?" she asked, stunned.
She couldn't imagine a woman brave enough..or mad enough.. to tie herself to such a man.
Devraj’s lips curled into a smirk. "Of course. Even a king needs his queen, Meri Jaan."
Ira felt a cold shiver run down her spine, settling in the marrow of her bones.
A woman who willingly ties herself to a man from such a violent world of blood? she wondered, That could never be me.
Suddenly, Devraj’s phone began to vibrate. He pulled it out, his expression shifting as he saw the caller ID.
"Go on in.." he said, nodding toward the entrance. "I will be with you shortly, I need to take this call."
Ira looked at him, feeling a sudden surge of nerves at being left alone, but he gave her a reassuring smile. She nodded slowly and walked toward the doors.
A massive guard stood there.
"Do you have a reservation, Ma’am?" he asked, his voice a deep.
"Oh... um, no. I’m here with Devraj.." Ira said, pointing back toward the car where Devraj was still talking.
The guard followed her finger, saw Devraj, and his entire posture changed instantly. He bowed his head in deep respect.
"I am sorry, My apologies, Mrs. Rathore, Please, step inside. "
Ira blinked at the name. Mrs. Rathore? She opened her mouth to correct him, to tell him she wasn't anyone's wife, let alone a Rathore, but the guard was already holding the door open for her with a polite nod. She just let out a quiet sigh and stepped inside..
The doors closed behind her, muffling the sounds of the outside world and replacing them with an atmosphere of absolute, hushed luxury.
Ira took a few steps forward and simply stopped, her breath catching in her throat.
The interior was a masterpiece of old money meeting modern soul.
It felt less like a restaurant and more like an incredibly wealthy, intimate home.
Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling like frozen rain, casting a warm, honeyed glow over the minimalist furniture.
Every flower was placed with precision, and the scent of expensive sandalwood and lavender filled the air. Everything about the space screamed, I am untouchable, yet it felt oddly welcoming.
Ira was so lost in the glassy perfection of the room that she didn't hear the soft footsteps approaching.
"Who are you?"
The voice was small, but it carried a strange, quiet authority.
Ira turned, her eyes widening as she looked down. Standing there was a young boy, no older than six, clutching a book to his chest. He was striking.
His wavy hair was perfectly styled, but it was his eyes that stopped Ira in her tracks. They were a bright, intense hazel, carrying a gaze that was far too heavy for a child.
He didn't just look at her, he studied her, tilting his head with a sort of interest.
"Red hair is rare.." the boy noted, his voice calm. "I have never seen it in person before. Is it genetic?"
Ira blinked, momentarily stunned by the vocabulary of a small boy. Then, she couldn't help but chuckle. The tension in her shoulders bled away as she looked at the tiny, serious face.
"You are a curious type, aren't you?" Ira giggled.
The boy didn't giggle back. He didn't even smile. He simply furrowed his brows, looking at her as if she had stated the obvious.
"That is how we learn, correct? From curiosity."
Ira felt a wave of genuine shock. This child didn't just look like a mini-aristocrat, he spoke like a philosopher.
He had the same intense, piercing energy she had seen in Devraj, but contained in a small, adorable frame.
"Wow... I'm stunned.. you are intelligent for your age." Ira said, leaning down slightly to be at his level. "What’s your name, cute little guy?"
The young boy’s face tightened into a tiny, serious expression.
"You sound like my Maa.." he said, his voice flat. "I am not little. I am six years old. And my Papa says I am handsome. Cute is for girls. My Maa calls me cute."
Ira couldn't help herself, she let out a genuine laugh and knelt down so she was eye level with him.
Up close, his features were even more striking. The boy’s eyes widened, and he blinked rapidly as she offered him a warm, soft smile. A faint dusty pink blush crept across his cheeks.
"Well, your mother isn't wrong to call you cute. You really are.." Ira teased gently. "And cute isn't just for girls, I promise."
The boy seemed to consider this, nodding slowly as if weighing her logic. Then, his curiosity won out. He reached out a small, hesitant hand and touched a strand of Ira’s vibrant red hair.
"You look beautiful, Ma’am.." he whispered, his intense gaze softening. "Just like my Maa... but she has different hair and eyes."
Ira felt a tug at her heart. "Thank you, little guy.." she giggled, reaching out to playfully ruffle his perfectly styled hair.
"Don't do that!" he huffed, though he was blushing even deeper now. He tried to smooth his hair back down with his one free tiny hand. "My Maa made sure I look handsome for today."
Ira laughed, completely charmed by his miniature ego. "Well, you’ve still haven't told me. What’s your name?"
"My name is–"
"Arav?"
Ira turned, and for a moment, she forgot how to breathe. Walking toward them was a woman who looked like she had stepped out of a dream.
She wore a stunning cream colored Saree that flowed like water, her long, wavy hair cascading over her shoulders.
A delicate golden necklace sat against her skin, and expensive bangles, the kind worn by a married woman of high status, clinked softly as she moved. Her hazel eyes were bright, framed by a smile that seemed to radiate light.
"Oh my God..." Ira whispered under her breath.
As the woman drew closer, a soft, warm scent of vanilla enveloped Ira, calming her nerves instantly.
"Hi! I am so sorry.." the woman said, her voice full of warmth. "Was my son disturbing you?"
Ira blinked, snapping out of her dazed trance as she realized she was staring. She stood up quickly, smoothing out her own clothes.
"Oh... no, no, no! Not at all. He’s such a sweet boy. Truly." She offered a hand, her voice slightly shaky from the presence of the woman.
"Hi, my name is Ira."
The woman’s smile widened, her eyes searching Ira’s face with a gentle curiosity.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Ira. My name is Meera. Meera Madhav." she said, her voice carrying a natural grace that made Ira feel even more out of place.
She looked down at her son, her eyes softening with a mother’s pride.
"You have a lovely, smart boy, Mrs. Madhav.." Ira praised. She couldn't help but admire the poise of the woman standing before her.
Meera let out a small giggle. "Thank you, but he can be a handful sometimes... just like his father." She tucked a loose strand of hair behind Arav's ear before turning her hazel eyes back to Ira.
"I don’t mean to be rude, but who are you?"
"Oh... I’m here with–"
"Greetings, Mrs. Madhav." Devraj interrupted from behind.
Ira felt a surge of heat as he stepped into her space, his presence instantly dominating her head.. He moved so close that she could feel the warmth of his body radiating against her back.
"Oh, hello.." Meera said, her head tilting slightly in confusion. "I’m sorry, but who are you?"
"My name is Devraj Singh Rathore.." he said, his voice was professional, yet carrying an edge of hardness. "I’m here to see your husband, Arjun Madhav."
Ira’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. She looked back at Meera...
This delicate, sweet smelling woman in a cream Saree, and her mind went blank. This woman is the Mafia King’s wife? she thought, stunned. She looks so... innocent.
"You two are here together?" Meera asked, a knowing smile playing on her lips as she looked between them.
"Yes.." Devraj said, He reached out, his hand sliding firmly around Ira’s waist as he pulled her closer "This is my woman... Ira."
Ira gulped, her body stiffening under his touch. The possessiveness in his grip made her stomach flip with a bit discomfort, a feeling she couldn't quite hide.
Meera’s eyes narrowed just a little, her intuition picking up on the flicker of unease in Ira’s expression.
"Are you married?" Arav’s small voice piped up, his hazel eyes looking up at Ira with pure curiosity.
Ira looked down at him and let out a giggle. "No, I'm–"
"Very soon.." Devraj cut in, staring down at the boy with a confident, chillingly handsome smile.
"Jaan..."
It was a voice deeper and darker than Devraj’s, filled with a raw Obsession.
Everyone turned toward the sound, except Meera. She simply let out a quiet, knowing sigh, she were used to the world stopping when that man spoke.
A man began to descend the spiral glass staircase from the upper floor. He was strikingly handsome, his hair gelled to the back, his face a mask of cold terrifying power.
"I left for just a minute and you were gone..." Arjun’s voice rumble as he reached the final step.
Swiftly, he pulled Meera against his chest from behind. He buried his face in her hair, breathing her in as if she were the only thing keeping him grounded.
"Don't leave like that next time.." he mumbled against her skin, his eyes closed for a brief second.
Meera leaned back into his strength, looking over at Ira and Devraj with a soft, slightly embarrassed smile.
"Arjun... you have guests.." she giggled, her voice a gentle contrast to his brooding energy.
Arjun’s gaze shifted upward. He didn’t pull away from his wife, instead, he kept his face pressed against her hair, his eyes narrowing as he took in the sight of Devraj and the woman tucked under his arm. His grip on Meera’s waist tightened possessively for a second before he finally let her go.
His dark, piercing gaze fell directly on Ira. She felt a chill wash over her and instinctively took a step back, pressing her shoulder against Devraj’s chest as if trying to disappear into his shadow.
This is him? she thought, This is the Mafia King? He looked like a man ready to kill.
"When you told me you were coming, I didn't know you were bringing her.." Arjun said. He wasn't smiling.
His face was a mask of stern authority that made the very air vibrate.
Ira looked at Meera, who was simply smiling up at her husband as if his terrifying aura were the most natural thing in the world.
"If you two want to discuss business, please, take a seat.." Meera intervened, her voice light and effortless.
Arjun looked down at Meera, and in an instant, the sternness in his expression melted.
A small, genuine smile touched his lips, a look so tender it left Ira stunned. Did he just smile? she wondered, her jaw nearly dropping.
He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Meera’s forehead, and she let out a giggle.
Then, just as quickly as the warmth had appeared, it vanished. Arjun turned and walked toward a private table, his back straight and his presence looming large.
"Let's go, Ira." Devraj said, his hand tightening on her waist to lead her forward.
"No..." Meera said, stepping into their path. "You go talk with him. I want to talk with her."
Devraj froze, his jaw tightening as he prepared to protest. He didn't like leaving Ira out of his sight.
But Meera stood her ground, her smile calm yet challenging.
Devraj looked from Meera to Arjun, then back to Ira. He nodded hesitantly, slowly releasing his grip on Ira’s waist.
"Perfect... come, Ira." Meera said with a playful spark in her eyes, that left no room for refusal. She gently held Ira’s hand, her touch surprisingly firm, and guided her away before Devraj could rethink his decision.
Arav trailed behind them, his small boots thudding on the glass steps.
Devraj stood frozen, his eyes glued to Ira as she ascended the spiral glass staircase. When she looked down at him with a nervous, flickering smile, his heart beats against his ribs.
He didn't just want her in his sight, he wanted her within reach. His fist clenched at his side, the urge to go after her nearly overwhelming his logic.
"You should think twice before you go near my wife, or testing her patience."
Arjun’s voice pulled Devraj’s attention back to the table, where the he sat with a terrifyingly calm posture, his eyes reading Devraj like an open book.
He let out a heavy sigh, forcing his body to relax as he walked over and took the seat opposite Arjun.
"My time is a luxury few can afford.." Arjun stated, his eyes tracking the movement of a waiter in the distance going up the spiral stairs, before locking onto Devraj. "You reached out because you required my intervention on something."
Devraj nodded, his expression turning hard. "Samar." he gritted out.
Arjun’s face hardened instantly..
"Samar is a drug lord with a penchant for depravity.
.." Arjun mused "His branches are woven deep into the fabric of the mafia.
Eradicating a man like him won't just be difficult, Devraj, it will be a bloodbath.
He is a sadist who thrives in the cracks of the underworld. You should know him better than i do.."
Devraj stiffened, his jaw locking. "He has set his sights on Ira."
The silence that followed was deafening. Arjun remained motionless, his gaze piercing through Devraj’s composure.
"Does she know?" he asked..
"No, she doesn't. Her life is far removed from a world like this.." Devraj said, his voice cracking with a rare moment of desperation. "I... I don't want her to experience it. The chaos, the blood... it will be too much for her."
"She doesn't look like a weak lady, if you ask me." Arjun said, Devraj glared at him.
"That's not the point, Madhav.."
Arjun didn't offer a word of comfort. He simply watched Devraj with a stern, unflinching intensity, the look of a man who had already sacrificed his own soul to keep his wife’s world beautiful, and was now deciding if Devraj Rathore was capable of doing the same.
"You are not an ordinary man yourself, Devraj. You should know that bringing a woman into your life exposes her to things like this.." Arjun coldly stated. "You might not be a killer, but you know your enemies aren't just limited to business rivals."
Devraj clenched his fist on the table. Arjun was right. Every word felt like a lash against his conscience.
If it were just him, he wouldn’t care, But Ira was his life now, and having someone like Samar, a man with no soul and too many connections, targeting Ira even if it's to get to him was his worst nightmare and he wants to get rid of it.
"I can see it in her eyes, Devraj.." Arjun continued, leaning forward. "She doesn't even have a clue that this man is currently hunting her."
"Because I refuse to break her with the truth!" Devraj nearly snarled. "She witnessed enough horror yesterday. I can't just tell her that a madman is after her just to get to me."
Arjun’s dark brows furrowed, his expression becoming even more stern.
"You are a fool, Devraj. You better start telling her exactly what’s going on. If she’s going to stay in your world willingly, she needs to know the price of the air she breathes."
Devraj didn’t answer. He couldn't. He just gulped, his eyes flickering toward the staircase where Ira had disappeared.
Arjun narrowed his eyes, studying the flicker of hesitation in Devraj’s face.
For the first time, a dark smirk spread across the Mafia King’s lips, it was a look of recognition between two men who had both bartered their morality for a woman.
"You forced her in, didn't you?" Arjun asked, "She never accepted you on her own. She never walked into your arms willingly. You trapped her."
Devraj’s eyes glared at the man across from him.
"You are not innocent yourself, Arjun Madhav.." Devraj shot back, his voice thick with a challenge.
He knew Meera’s history, all too well.
"Don't preach to me about trapped, when we all know exactly how you claimed Her."
The smirk on Arjun’s face only widened, a dark glint in his eyes as if he were remembering his own past battles.
"Fucker..." Devraj muttered, a smirk finally touching his own lips.
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