Chapter Three
Three
Priya unleashed a karate chop on the couch cushion, leaving a satisfying dent.
She had been tasked with transforming Moksha’s abandoned coach house into a retreat fit for Hollywood royalty.
And so, armed with a stepladder, a mop, and cleaning products, she hauled out the trash, scoured the surfaces, and polished the floor.
It took her a full week to get rid of the dust and grime, but the space sparkled when she was done.
Now, it was all about the finishing touches.
Priya’s eyes drifted across the honey-colored floors, the cozy furnishings, and the rays of sunlight spilling in through the windows.
The coach house was compact, with just one bedroom, one bathroom, and a living area that flowed into a small kitchen, but its open layout made it feel far larger.
Big windows framed views of the open field beyond, and the privacy of being tucked away at the back of the property made it feel like a world of its own.
For Priya and her sisters, it had always been an elusive treasure, a cozy retreat away from their parents’ watchful eyes. They’d begged for weekend sleepovers, promising to clean up and keep things tidy, but her parents had always refused.
“Pay for extra utilities?” Puppa had scoffed once. “Tara baap ni electricity company chhe? You think your father owns the power grid?”
Mumma and Puppa tried to rent it out, but nobody was interested in sharing the grounds with a funeral home.
And so, it collected dust, until King Ethan descended and unbolted the castle.
But all the work spent getting it ready would amount to nothing, because once she sent Ethan packing, her parents would have no option but to sell Moksha.
With that in mind, Priya set up a smart lighting system inside.
She tucked the hub away in a hidden spot and installed smart bulbs in the light fixtures.
Though she couldn’t test the setup because there was still no internet, the system would allow her to remotely control the lights through an app on her phone.
She plucked an apple from the basket of treats her mother had put together, took a satisfying bite, and headed to the bedroom for a final check. Setting the apple on the nightstand, she started smoothing out the sheets, but her elbow knocked it off and sent it rolling under the bed.
Priya crouched on the floor, stretching her arm as far as she could underneath the bed. She craned her neck, peering into the shadows, but the apple remained just out of reach. Shifting her weight, she tried to wedge herself lower for a better angle.
“Well now,” a rich, unmistakable voice drawled from the doorway, “that’s one hell of a welcome.”
Priya froze, booty sky-high, her entire body tensing. That voice. Familiar, dangerous, dripping with confidence. It wasn’t just a voice; it was a weapon. And it swept over her like a velvet snare, stealing her breath.
Scrambling to recover, she shot up, only to slam her head directly into the underside of the bed frame.
“Ow!” she yelped, pressing a hand to her scalp.
A low chuckle sounded behind her. “Need some help?” Ethan asked, sounding far too entertained.
“No, thanks.” Priya reversed from under the bed on all fours with as much grace as she could muster.
She’d get the apple later. Acutely aware of how the fabric of her yoga pants clung to her curves, her nerves fired like sparks under his gaze.
Composing herself, she flashed him a casual smile.
“Just a few final touches, and I’ll get out of your hair. ”
And what gorgeous hair it is, she noted, her fingers tingling at the thought of running through it. Giving herself a mental shake, she brushed past Ethan and headed to the kitchen.
“The place looks great,” Ethan said, taking in the space as he wandered behind her.
“I’m glad you approve.” Priya grabbed a bowl and filled it with salt. Enjoy it while you can, she thought, trying to contain the wicked glee bubbling beneath. Because in a few minutes, you’ll be running for the hills.
As Priya swiveled to head back into the bedroom, she slammed straight into Ethan’s chest, solid and unyielding.
“Easy there, hotshot,” he said, steadying her.
The heat of his touch made her skin prickle.
Ohhh. He smells so good. Woodsy, intoxicating, distractingly good.
“Sorry.” She brushed the salt from Ethan’s slate-gray hoodie that managed to look expensive despite its simplicity. His sweatpants hung just as perfectly, the kind of look that screamed celebrity on a coffee run.
“What’s with the bowl?” Ethan prowled after her into the bedroom.
Walking around the bed, Priya sprinkled a circle of salt on the floor, reciting what sounded like ancient incantations.
“It’s for warding off evil spirits,” she replied. “The circle creates a barrier they can’t cross. It will protect you from Bhooa.”
“From whom?”
“From Bhooa, the resident ghost. But don’t worry.
She might stir up a little mischief during the day, but she doesn’t usually appear until after you fall asleep.
Her breathing’s a little raspy, but I doubt it’ll be loud enough to wake you.
She likes to sit in the rocking chair and watch.
Her face remains shrouded, so if you do wake up, all you’ll see are her bony fingers curled around the armrests.
She doesn’t move from the spot unless there’s a full moon.
Then you may feel something touch your cheek.
But that’s what the salt is for.” Priya handed Ethan the bowl and smiled.
“Just keep the circle of salt closed at all times, and you’ll be fine. ”
“You’re kidding me, right?”
“I’m dead serious,” Priya said, her expression somber. “You remember how the kids used to dare each other to sneak into the funeral home at night, right?”
Ethan looked at her skeptically. “You mean to tell me this place is really haunted?”
“Only the coach house.” It was time to take advantage of Moksha’s peculiarities. Priya mustered all her skills to convince Ethan of her made-up ghost story. “We think it’s the original groundskeeper’s wife, but it could be someone from next door.”
“Next door?” Ethan set the bowl down on the bedside table.
“Oh, did Puppa forget to tell you? We keep unclaimed human remains in the storage room next door.” This part was true, and Ethan’s expression was a delightful mix of shock and confusion. Priya mentally high-fived herself as she strolled out of the bedroom.
“Human remains?” Ethan repeated, following her out.
“Just the ashes,” she said over her shoulder.
“And don’t worry. There’s a solid brick wall between you and the dead.
” She tapped her knuckles against the partition.
“But some ashes do sneak in through the ventilation. Occasionally.” She tilted her hand back and forth as if weighing the likelihood.
“If you notice a thin layer of dust on the counter, just wish it well. Oh, and keep your food covered and your mouth closed at night.”
“Let me get this straight.” Ethan crossed his arms over his chest. “There’s a ghost in my room and, possibly, the ashes of the departed floating around?”
“I wouldn’t refer to her as a ghost.” Priya lowered her voice. “She takes offense to that. We call her Bhooa masi.”
“Bhooa…masi?” Ethan attempted to pronounce the word.
“It means aunt. Auntie Bhooa. We call her Bhooa masi out of respect.”
“Bhooa masi,” Ethan repeated.
“Very good. None of this is a deal-breaker, right?” Priya stowed a bucket of cleaning supplies under the kitchen sink and gave him an innocent look.
“No. Not at all,” Ethan said, his words charged with excitement. “I’m playing a dead guy who wakes up alive, and now there’s a ghost involved? This turned out to be even better than I hoped for.”
Priya’s plan burst in her face like a balloon at a cactus convention. Instead of spooking Ethan into a quick exit, her fake ghost story had only fueled his enthusiasm.
“Does nothing ever scare you?” Priya asked, frustration creeping into her voice. And yet, beneath the irritation, that same fearless energy of his pulled at her like it always had.
“Oh, I’ve been spooked. And I’ve run. Plenty of times.”
“You?” Priya scoffed. “The mighty Ethan Knight?”
“Don’t.” His voice dropped, edged with something that wasn’t quite anger but carried the weight of something raw. “Don’t pretend you see me the same as everyone else does. You know the real me. You saw the real me. Way before anyone ever did.”
Priya’s heart stilled.
Because it was true.
She had known Ethan before the cameras and screaming fans, when he was just Brooke’s older brother—the boy she had caught staring up at the night sky, as if trying to untangle something bigger than himself.
The boy who had scooted over silently to make room for her, who had shrugged off his busted lip even though his eyes told a different story, who had walked her home even though she insisted she was fine.
The boy who had made her feel seen long before she had realized how much that mattered.
Back then, she had spun stories about him, even though he had no place in her dreams—stories as beautiful and impossible as the stars reflected in his eyes. But dreams were just that. There was no universe in which she and Ethan Knight ended up together.
Priya sucked in a sharp breath. This wasn’t a walk down memory lane. She was here to get rid of Ethan Knight, not fall back under his spell.
“Excuse me, Mr. Knight,” a man interrupted from the door. “Shall I bring in your luggage?”
Ethan glanced at the man in the dark suit—clearly his driver, Priya assumed. “Yes, of course,” he said, as if just remembering he was waiting. Turning to Priya, he flashed a grin that left her stomach in knots. “Time really does fly when you’re having fun.”
“Well, I must fly too,” she declared. “Puppa will be here soon to help you get settled in.” She had barely taken a step before Ethan reached out, his fingers closing around her arm.