Chapter Twenty Four
Twenty-Four
Ethan stuck to the back roads on the way to Moksha, following the hidden route along the deserted railway tracks.
As they skirted past Knight Estates, Priya spotted photographers staked out near the entrance, expecting him to show up there.
When they reached Moksha, Ethan stashed the bike behind the coach house, so no one driving by the front gate could spot it.
Inside, they pulled off their helmets, relieved to have made it back in one piece.
Priya sank into Ethan’s arms, wishing she could freeze time right there. The stillness felt fragile, and sure enough, it dissolved as Ethan’s phone began to ring.
“Talk to me, Zach,” Ethan answered, stepping away to speak to his assistant.
Priya went to the window and pulled the curtains shut.
Ethan returned with a grim look. “That picture with Mr. Khan is what started this. His son posted it on the shop’s page, and it spread like wildfire. That’s how the press tracked us down.”
Before Priya could react, his phone buzzed again. He gave her an apologetic glance. “I need to handle this. My whole team’s trying to get a hold of me.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Priya said, taking a seat at the dining table and unlocking her phone to reply to a backlog of work-related messages. Her thumbs hovered uselessly above the screen, her mind stuck on Ethan’s voice.
“What do you mean, damage control?” he asked, his steps slow as he crossed to the window and back. “I want to be proactive about this. We do whatever needs to be done. Across the board.”
Curiosity got better of Priya, and she opened her social media app.
It was flooded with images of her and Ethan—initial shots where her face was visible, followed by flashes of chaos.
The pursuit. Ethan’s confrontation with the paparazzi.
Their daring escape into the woods. But the one photo that had taken over the internet was still.
Quiet. Just the two of them by his bike on the verge of a kiss, unaware of anyone around them including the figure stalking them silently in the background.
There was something haunting about the image. Something beautiful. Like a frame pulled straight from a movie. Priya’s throat tightened, tears welling before she could blink them away. It felt like someone had reached inside her, dragged out something sacred, and turned it into a spectacle.
The possibility that Ethan could be in love was the hot topic stirring up reactions across his fan base. Opinions flew in from every corner. Priya’s emotions swung wildly as she read through the stream of comments.
“@Allycat Now we know who took that photo on his feed.”
“Damn, I want someone to look at me like that ”
“Bruh, y’all really think this girl’s in it for love? She’s after that fame bag.”
“Guess he’s dating regular people now?”
“Really? A brown girl??”
“They look so in love!”
“Someone tag me with her name.”
Priya scrolled through the threads, struck by how deeply people were invested in their celebrity crush.
It was as if buying into Ethan’s stardom gave them a stakeholder claim to his life, allowing them a vote in his personal choices.
She was about to sign off when a notification popped up on her screen.
Before she could check it, another one pinged.
Then another, and another. She was gaining followers by the second—ten, thirty, two hundred.
Priya’s pulse quickened as her phone buzzed nonstop. Something was wrong. People were not only following and messaging her but also tagging her. She clicked on the first tagged post. Sure enough, there it was—the viral photo of her and Ethan. Underneath, the caption read “Meet Priya Solanki.”
Priya’s heart began pounding wildly. Her anonymity was crumbling in real time. Another post popped up, the user hitting a dead end while trying to trace the bike’s license plate, but disclosing an interesting discovery: “Ethan Knight’s bike was signed for by Priya Solanki at Moksha Funeral Home.”
Her personal information was making the rounds: age, religion, cultural background, the schools she’d attended, the company she founded.
Even her ex, Manoj, was dragged into the fray.
Every piece of her life was suddenly fair game for public examination.
Her friendship with Brooke, too, was twisted into a calculated scheme to cozy up to Ethan.
One comment in particular caught Priya off guard in a way she hadn’t expected: She’s bad luck, Ethan. Run while you can.
The words of this stranger triggered something in her, memories of her parents’ stories, of a time when even the shadow of a Dalit was thought to be unlucky, a harbinger of misfortune.
She’d dismissed those tales as distant history, something that could never touch her life.
Now the weight of history didn’t feel quite so abstract.
It felt real and alive, breathing down her neck.
As past and present collided, with comments rolling in faster than she could process, Priya’s mind raced with comebacks. She wanted to push back, to shout, You don’t know me! But another part whispered, What’s the point? Her parents had always warned her.
Don’t reach too high.
Don’t think too big.
Don’t dream beyond your station.
She hadn’t listened. Being with Ethan had made her feel unstoppable, as if she could take on anything. Now she wasn’t so sure. She shrank into herself, wishing she could vanish completely, fade into a shadow where no one could see or judge her. Had she been too reckless, too na?ve?
Priya looked up from her screen to Ethan. His face was tight with frustration as he argued on the phone.
“I don’t care if it jeopardizes the release,” he said. “I know they want to spin a romance with Sienna to boost the marketing campaign, but I’m not postponing the announcement. If anyone’s got a problem with it, they know where to reach me.” He hung up, pacing the floor like a caged lion.
His screen lit up again before he’d even caught his breath.
“What now?” he snapped, his tone all steel.
“Sure, I confronted the guy, but assault? Seriously?” Ethan dragged a hand through his hair.
“The bruise is probably from his own camera hitting him…Yeah, I grabbed his camera…I don’t remember the exact words.
Maybe I did make a threat. You know what? Have my lawyer handle it.”
Priya’s stomach twisted. Ethan was catching heat all because of her.
Maybe her parents were right—maybe some things were like a cosmic loop she couldn’t break.
And she’d tried. God, she’d tried. She’d thrown herself into escape after escape, desperate for something that felt like freedom.
Somehow, all roads circled right back to Moksha.
Every move she made to step away from it had ended in disappointment and failure.
Calgary.
My marriage.
The company.
The last ten years of my life.
And now Ethan was being dragged into her mess, forced to deal with the fallout of her choices. Everything pointed to the same truth: She was the common denominator. There was no denying it anymore. She really was bad luck.
Her phone buzzed without stopping. Deepa. Brooke. Manoj. Dozens of unknown numbers stacking on top of one another in a rising tide. Someone had leaked her number. Priya’s chest felt tight, her hands weirdly cold, and for a moment, she felt like she might crawl out of her skin.
Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it—
And then…nothing.
Instead of going over the edge, Priya shut down.
Everything around her dulled and blurred.
It was as if her brain had pulled an emergency lever.
She sat there, physically present, while the rest of her backed into a corner somewhere inside herself and curled up.
And in that weird, numb stillness, only one thought remained: I have to walk away from Ethan before I cause him any more harm.
“Pri.” Ethan’s voice sliced through the fog in her mind. She blinked, trying to focus as he muted his phone and sat across from her. “We have to go public earlier than anticipated.”
Priya sat perfectly still, feeling like she was watching someone else in her place.
“There’s a gala tomorrow,” Ethan continued. “We’ll go together, but we need to talk to your parents so they’re not blindsided. I’ll forward you a draft of my statement. We’ll also have to prep for press questions. I’ve lined up some interviews to take control of the story.”
She nodded slowly, almost automatically, her numbness starting to splinter.
A slow ache bloomed in her chest. Galas, press statements, interviews—all things and places where she didn’t belong.
For a brief moment, she’d thought she’d finally found her place—right there, beside Ethan—but in only a few hours, the world had bulldozed its way between them, stripping her of all illusions.
Ethan belonged among the stars—and she couldn’t risk doing anything that would taint his future.
“Are you listening, Pri?” Ethan asked.
She was, but it felt like the words were landing on a version of her that was already slipping out of reach.
“I can’t do this,” she whispered, her throat tight.
Ethan stilled, then reached for her hand, threading his fingers through hers.
“I know it’s a lot,” he said, his voice softer now.
“It’s fast, and unfair, and overwhelming.
But we don’t have a choice.” He lifted her chin until their eyes locked.
“My team’s already in motion. Hair, makeup, wardrobe.
Whatever you need. You just need to show up.
I’ll handle everything else, including the gala stuff. ”
“It’s not just the gala,” Priya said, her voice full with emotion. “It’s the whole thing. I’m not made for this, Ethan. I can’t be in this…with you.” The words tasted bitter on her tongue, and she felt her heart crumbling piece by piece.