CHAPTER 35! TRIO #2
Tara pointed the tip of her pen toward the center of the room.
"We completely forgot Aryav bhai. Who exactly is going to ask him for permission and his schedule?"
The lively atmosphere evaporated into thin air.
Breaking the sudden tension, Ruhi looked around at everyone, completely baffled.
"Why are you guys always treating him like he's the actual devil?"
Reyansh looked at her deadpan. "Because he is."
Ruhi rolled her eyes, leaning back.
"No. The devil is significantly easier to deal with."
Everyone stopped, processing her words, before nodding in unison. Reyansh pointed at her.
"She actually has a valid point."
Ruhi smirked slightly. "But we also have our ultimate weapon, don't we?"
Every face turned toward Aadhira.
Yeh log mujhe itne pyar se kyu dhekh rahe hai? kahi mujhe to nahi fasa rahe na.
Aadhira immediately scrambled to her feet, dropping her half-eaten snack.
"No. Absolutely not.
I choose life. Count me completely out of this."
The twins raised their hands, pointing at her simultaneously with military precision.
"You are definitely asking him."
"No!"
"Yes."
"No!"
"Yes."
Ayaan joined in, tugging gently on the edge of her kurti with a wide, innocent gaze. "Mumma... please ask Papa."
Aadhira gasped softly, looking down at her son. "Ayaan tum bhi."
She looked around the room in desperation. Every single person had abandoned her without a shred of remorse.
Even Myra was hiding behind her laptop screen.
Aadhira pointed an accusing finger at her own chest. "Why does it always have to be me?!"
Reyansh smiled brilliantly, leaning forward. "Because you're the only one in this house brave enough to face the beast in his lair."
"That is completely untrue!"
"Correct," Tara chimed in cheerfully, snapping her notebook shut.
"You're actually just the only one stupid enough."
The entire lounge erupted into loud, unbridled laughter. And Aadhira realized, with a sinking feeling of growing horror, that they were all absolutely, terrifyingly serious.
Forty-three floors above the chaotic city, Aryav Rai Shinghania signed the final page of the corporate acquisition document and set his luxury pen down on the desk.
The moment the ink dried, an unfamiliar, distinct sense of cold unease settled right at the base of his spine.
Across the room, Vivaan looked up from his screen, noticing the subtle shift in his posture. "Problem?"
Aryav turned his head slowly, his gaze drifting toward the massive floor-to-ceiling glass window overlooking the sprawling horizon.
The instinct that had kept him alive through boardrooms, wars, and betrayals had begun whispering. Someone was about to ask him for something.
"Not yet," Aryav murmured softly, his eyes narrowing slightly as the inexplicable intuition sharpened.
"But it's definitely coming."
Night had settled over the Rai Shinghania mansion, thick and heavy. The sprawling estate was unusually quiet, its vaulted corridors wrapped in soft golden light.
The manic energy of the afternoon lounge had evaporated, leaving behind a stillness that felt far more terrifying to Aadhira than the cousins' relentless teasing.
She sat on the very edge of the king-sized bed, her fingers digging into the silk duvet as she mentally rehearsed her arguments for the twentieth time.
Unfortunately, every single point she had prepared sounded entirely idiotic when measured against the man she was trying to convince.
Adventure?
Absurd.
Aryav didn't seek thrills; he commanded operations.
Family bonding?
The Rai Shinghanias didn't bond over campfires; they negotiated percentages over boardroom tables.
The heavy teak bedroom door clicked open, the sound cutting through the quiet room like a gunshot.
Aadhira immediately sat straighter, her spine turning to steel.
Aryav entered without a word.
His suit jacket was already gone, and his silk tie had vanished somewhere between the corporate elevator and the front gates.
The ruthless exhaustion of a fourteen-hour workday lingered in the hard, sharp lines of his face and the tight set of his shoulders.
Without acknowledging her presence, his dark eyes sweeping past her as if she were merely part of the room's architecture, he walked straight toward the master bathroom.
The door closed behind him with a firm, quiet click.
Aadhira let out a long, ragged groan and buried her face in her hands.
Now she had to wait.
Twenty minutes later, the bathroom door swung open.
Aadhira's gaze automatically darted up, only to immediately redirect her attention to the window.
Then the bookshelf.
Then a heavy ceramic vase in the corner. Then literally anything in the room that wasn't Aryav Rai Shinghania.
Aryav emerged wearing nothing except a pair of black tailored trousers hanging low and loose on his hips.
His hair was still damp from the shower, the dark strands messy and clinging to his forehead.
Water slid down the hard lines of his chest before disappearing beneath the waistband of his trousers.
Ye shirt pehenna bhool gaye kya?
Aadhira tu bs focus kar.
Upar dekh.
UPAR.
Aryav noticed. He noticed the rigid set of her shoulders, the deliberate angle of her chin, and the frantic way her gaze pinned itself to the opposite wall.
He noticed everything.
Without bothering to put on a shirt, he crossed the room, his bare feet making no sound against the rug, and sat in the leather armchair near the window.
A crisp, white dress shirt hung loosely from one hand, slung over the armrest. He made absolutely no attempt to wear it.
"Speak."
The command was low, a rough vibration in the quiet bedroom.
Kya bolna tha mujhe yaad kyu nahi aa raha ...haan yaad aaya.
Aadhira swallowed hard, forcing her gaze to level strictly at his face.
"We are planning a family trip."
The room held its breath. It was the kind of unyielding atmosphere Aryav used to break foreign diplomats.
He simply sat there, his dark, impenetrable eyes tracking the nervous pulse jumping in her throat.
He waited.
Aadhira let out a sharp sigh, abandoning her script. "Would you come with us?"
"No."
The answer arrived instantly.
There was no hesitation.
No pause for consideration.
Just a flat, clinical rejection.
Aadhira's brow furrowed. "That's it?"
"Yes."
"You're not even going to think about it?"
"I already did."
She folded arms across her chest. "You thought about it for half a second."
"It was sufficient."
Infuriating, impossible man.
Bade aaye...
Kudh ko pata nahi kya samjhte hai
Kese manau inhe.
Aadhira stood up from the bed, the sudden burst of irritation giving her the courage to close the distance between them.
Aryav's eyes narrowed slightly as he watched her approach. His expression remained a flawless, unreadable mask, but his posture didn't shift by a fraction of an inch.
She stopped two feet from his chair, looking down at him.
"Chaliye na."
"No."
"Why not? Give me a reason."
Aryav leaned his head back against the cushion, his gaze locking onto hers with a heavy, deliberate intensity.
"Convince me."
Aadhira opened her mouth to counter. Then she closed it. She had nothing.
What exactly was she supposed to sell to a man who controlled global shipping lanes? A river? A rafting package?
He didn't inhabit the world of ordinary experiences.
He bought the places where those experiences happened.
Aryav watched her struggle, his dark eyes tracking the rapid sequence of frustration and defeat crossing her features.
"You came unprepared," he stated plainly, his voice smooth and devoid of arrogance.
Aadhira narrowed her eyes, her cheeks flushing a faint pink.
"Stop looking at me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you've already decided."
"I have."
The sheer, unadulterated certainty in his tone snapped something inside her. Finally, entirely defeated, she stepped even closer.
She moved right into his immediate space, close enough that the scent of his soap-something sharp, cedar-infused, and entirely masculine-wrapped around her.
Close enough that Aryav had to tilt his head slightly upward to maintain the intense, unbroken chain of eye contact.
The anger drained out of her, leaving her looking remarkably small, remarkably real in the dim light of their room.
"Please," she whispered quietly.
Just that. One syllable. No grand argument.
No emotional manipulation.
No calculated strategy.
Just a soft, entirely sincere plea.
Aryav stared at her, his entire body freezing. His fingers, which had been loosely tapping against the armrest, stopped.
His gaze dropped briefly.
Not to her face. Lower.
To the soft line of her lips, then to the rapid rise and fall of her chest, before returning to her eyes.
His jaw tightened, a hard, sharp knot forming at the hinge.
"Step back," he murmured, his voice dropping an octave.
Aadhira frowned slightly, caught in the gravity of his stare. "Why?"
"You aren't making this easy."
"How?"
Neither of them spoke. The clock on the far wall suddenly sounded far louder than before.
"Because if you ask me like that..." Aryav's voice trailed off, his dark eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her breath hitch. "...I'll agree."
Aryav didn't look away.
He simply closed his eyes.
Once. It was enough.
Aadhira blinked, her heart hammering against her ribs. He hadn't said yes. But he also hadn't said no. Which, translated from Aryav Rai Shinghania, was practically a signed contract.
"What?" she breathed.
"Where?"
"Where what?"
His eyes snapped open, returning to hers, dark and possessive.
"Where are you taking me?"