Chapter 5
The morning light streamed through the glass windows of the grand dining room, casting long golden rectangles across the polished teakwood table. Shruti sat near the edge of the table, lazily buttering a piece of toast while sipping her second cup of hot ginger tea.
Opposite her sat Akhil Raheja.
He was dressed in a sharp charcoal-grey suit, his dark silk tie tied in a flawless knot.
His tablet was resting against a silver holder beside his coffee cup, displaying flickering financial graphs from the European stock markets.
He looked every bit the formidable, cold-blooded billionaire chief executive, a stark contrast to the relaxed man who had shared a bowl of instant noodles on the kitchen counter just six hours earlier.
"You look ridiculously formal for eight in the morning," Shruti commented dryly, taking a bite of her toast. "Are you heading off to buy another country?"
Akhil didn't even look up from his tablet screen. "Just a few hotel chains in Italy, Miss Malhotra. Nothing to concern yourself with."
"Right. Very casual," Shruti smirked.
Akhil slid his tablet into his leather briefcase, picked up his black coffee, and took a measured sip. He then reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a crisp, folded piece of paper. He slid it across the glass tabletop until it stopped right in front of Shruti’s teacup.
Shruti looked down at the paper, then looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. "What's this? My lease agreement for the golden cage?"
"Read it," Akhil said smoothly, leaning back in his tall leather chair, resting his elbows on the armrests and lacing his long fingers together. "Those are the security protocols for your stay at this estate. Mark and I drafted them at six this morning."
Shruti picked up the paper, unfolded it, and began reading out loud with growing disbelief in her voice.
"'Estate Safety and Movement Guidelines for Miss Shruti Malhotra,'" she read, her eyes widening as she scanned down the numbered list.
"Rule Number One," Shruti declared, shooting him an incredulous look. "'Miss Malhotra shall not step outside the main estate gates without a minimum of four armed security personnel and two armored vehicles.' Are you serious?! Four guards for a trip to the local grocery store?!"
"If you need groceries, Joseph will order them," Akhil replied calmly. "And yes, four guards is the bare minimum requirement."
Shruti rolled her eyes and continued reading.
"'Rule Number Two: No unverified or unannounced visitors permitted on the premises.
All personal guests must submit government identification twenty-four hours in advance for security screening.
' Myra is going to kill you, Akhil! She hates filling out forms! "
"Myra can submit her ID like everyone else," Akhil said without a single trace of sympathy. "Next rule."
"'Rule Number Three,'" Shruti gritted out, her voice rising in frustration. "'Miss Malhotra must install the Raheja Security Encrypted Location App on her smartphone. The GPS tracking feature must remain activated at all times.' Absolutely not! That is a total violation of my privacy!"
"It is a location safety system, not a privacy violation," Akhil corrected smoothly, his voice completely unbothered by her rising anger. "If Reyansh’s men cut off your phone line or attempt to intercept you, my security command center will know your exact coordinates within three seconds."
"I am a travel journalist, Akhil, not a tagged wildlife animal!" Shruti snapped, slamming the paper onto the table. "I have survived navigating alone through foreign jungles, dark mountain roads, and remote villages! I don't need a digital leash!"
Akhil’s gaze narrowed slightly, his dark eyes fixing on hers with intense, unwavering gravity. "When you were in foreign jungles, Shruti, you didn't have a ruthless, mafia-linked billionaire tracking your every step in Mumbai. Read rule number four and five."
Shruti snatched the paper back, glaring at the remaining lines.
"'Rule Number Four: Miss Malhotra shall not wander the unlit areas of the estate grounds, including the rocky sea ledge, after nine o'clock at night alone.' And 'Rule Number Five: Any desire to leave the premises for work or personal leisure must be requested six hours in advance.'"
Shruti stared at the paper in absolute silence for five long seconds. Then, slowly, deliberately, she folded the paper back up, tore it cleanly into four small pieces, and dropped the scraps right into Akhil’s empty water glass.
Akhil’s dark eyebrows rose slightly, a faint, dangerous twitch appearing at the corner of his jaw. "Was that necessary?"
"It was completely necessary," Shruti stated firmly, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back.
"These aren't security rules, Akhil. This is a dictator manual!
You are trying to micro-manage my entire life!
I agreed to stay here for my family's safety, but I will NOT be treated like your helpless prisoner! "
Akhil stood up slowly from his chair. Standing at his full, imposing height of six feet two inches, his broad shoulders easily blocked out the morning light behind him.
He stepped around the long dining table until he was standing right beside her chair, leaning down slightly so his dark eyes were burning directly into hers.
"Those rules," Akhil spoke in a low, gravelly tone that vibrated with absolute authority, "were created to keep you alive. You can tear up as many pieces of paper as you want, Shruti. But as long as you are under my roof, those rules are non-negotiable. Do you understand me?"
Shruti felt her pulse quicken at his sudden physical proximity. She could smell the rich, crisp scent of his expensive cologne and feel the raw, magnetic energy radiating off his tall frame. But her stubborn, fearless spirit refused to back down.
She tilted her chin up, looking him dead in the eye with a defiant smirk. "Is that a challenge, Mr. Raheja?"
Akhil stared down at her fiery face, watching the playful, stubborn spark in her eyes. A dangerous, slow smirk spread across his lips.
"It's a fact, Miss Malhotra," Akhil whispered softly. He straightened up, adjusted his suit jacket, and grabbed his briefcase. "I have high-level corporate meetings at the financial center today. I will be back by six. Follow the rules, Shorty."
Before she could throw her napkin at his head for calling her 'Shorty', Akhil turned around and walked out of the dining room with smooth, confident strides, leaving her boiling with frustration.
***
By two o'clock in the afternoon, Shruti was pacing back and forth across the spacious living room floor, her hands resting on her hips.
The estate was quiet. Akhil was away at his office. The house staff moved about quietly doing their chores, and the security team was posted strictly at their assigned positions around the perimeter.
Shruti looked towards the glass doors leading out to the back lawn.
"Follow the rules, Shorty," she mocked in a deep, booming voice, imitating Akhil’s authoritative tone. "Non-negotiable. Dictator!"
A mischievous grin slowly broke across Shruti’s face.
She was a woman who lived for freedom and adventure.
Being told what she couldn't do was the fastest way to make her do it.
Akhil thought he had built an unbreakable fortress with airtight rules, but she was determined to prove to him that his precious rules meant nothing to her.
"Time for Phase One of Operation Rule-Breaker," Shruti whispered to herself.
She headed upstairs to her suite and changed into a pair of comfortable white sneakers, black yoga pants, and a dark blue hoodie. She grabbed her smartphone, keeping the GPS tracking app completely disabled, just as she had threatened.
Walking downstairs, she approached the grand front entrance. Stand near the heavy glass doors was Guard Vikram, a tall, burly security operative holding a walkie-talkie.
"Good afternoon, Miss Malhotra," Vikram said politely. "Can I help you with something?"
"Hi, Vikram!" Shruti gave him her sweetest, most innocent smile. "I was just wondering... could you fetch me a bottle of sparkling peach water from the kitchen pantry? Joseph said it was stored in the lower cold storage room."
Vikram looked hesitant. "Um... I am assigned to guard the main entrance foyer, ma'am."
"Oh, it's just across the hallway!" Shruti pleaded playfully, fluttering her eyelashes slightly. "Please? I'm so thirsty, and Chef Ramesh is currently busy setting up the outdoor lunch buffet."
Vikram melted under her cheerful charm. "Alright, Miss Malhotra. I will be right back. Please remain right here."
"Of course! I won't move an inch!" Shruti promised.
The moment Vikram turned the corner towards the kitchen hallway, Shruti’s innocent smile instantly vanished into a victorious smirk.
Without wasting a single second, she turned on her heels, darted towards the side service corridor, and slipped out through the heavy wooden side door leading into the estate's private landscaped gardens.
Rule Number One: Broken. She was outside without a four-man escort.
Shruti ducked low behind a row of tall, decorative hibiscus bushes, sneaking through the lush green gardens like a professional spy. She kept an eye on the security cameras mounted along the high stone walls, using the thick palm trees and marble garden statues as cover.
She reached the eastern perimeter of the estate, where a small, old iron maintenance gate was located near the gardener's shed. The gate was kept locked, but Shruti had noticed earlier that morning that the lock was slightly loose.
Reaching into her hoodie pocket, she pulled out a sturdy silver hairpin. Having traveled through remote regions where gear often broke, Shruti had learned basic lock-picking skills years ago.
With two quick, practiced twists of the hairpin inside the keyhole... 'CLICK!'
The iron latch opened with a satisfying metallic sound.