Chapter 5 #3
Akhil looked down at his shirt, then looked back at Shruti’s flushed, mischievous face.
"Is that..." Akhil started, his voice thick with disbelief, "...tamarind chutney on my silk shirt?"
Shruti couldn't hold it in any longer.
A loud, burst of genuine laughter erupted from her throat. She threw her head back against the grass, laughing so hard her entire body shook beneath him.
"Your... your shirt!" Shruti wheezed out, pointing a trembling finger at his chest, tears of hilarity welling up in her dark eyes. "The great Akhil Raheja... covered in ten-rupee street food!"
Akhil stared at her laughing face. He tried to maintain his stern, angry billionaire scowl. He tried to look furious. He tried to hold onto his righteous anger.
But watching her laugh so freely, her dark eyes sparkling with pure, unadulterated joy, her sweet sound echoing over the ocean breeze... his heart melted completely.
A slow, helpless smile broke across Akhil’s face.
Then, a quiet chuckle escaped his chest. Within seconds, Akhil threw his head back and burst into a rich, deep, hearty laugh, a loud, booming sound of pure amusement that echoed across the private estate grounds.
For the first time in years, the powerful, stressed, hyper-disciplined billionaire was lying on a patch of grass, covered in street food, laughing like a young boy alongside the woman he had loved in secret for nearly a decade.
"You are a menace, Shruti Malhotra," Akhil wheezed, shaking his head as his laughter slowly settled, though his dark eyes remained filled with overwhelming warmth. "An absolute, unstoppable menace."
"And you," Shruti giggled, her hands resting softly against his broad shoulders as her laughter faded into soft gasps, "are a terrible food thief."
Akhil lowered himself down just a few inches, resting his elbows on the grass on either side of her head. The heavy laughter slowly gave way to a quiet, intoxicating stillness.
His dark eyes locked onto hers. Up close, Shruti could see the tiny gold flecks in his dark irises, feel the intense heat radiating from his body, and hear his rapid pulse hammering against his ribs.
Shruti’s giggles died away. Her breath hitched in her throat once again. Her hands on his shoulders grew warm, her fingers instinctively tightening slightly against the fabric of his shirt.
Akhil didn't move away. His gaze swept over her soft, rosy cheeks, lingering on her lips, which were still parted from laughter.
"You scared the hell out of me today, Shruti," Akhil murmured softly, his deep voice dropping to a gentle, velvety whisper that brushed against her skin like a physical stroke. "When Mark told me you were gone... my heart stopped."
Shruti looked up at him, the playful banter completely gone, replaced by a deep, stirring emotion that made her throat feel dry.
"I’m sorry," Shruti admitted softly, her dark eyes wide and honest. "I... I just wanted to feel normal for a little while. I didn't mean to make you worry."
"I know," Akhil whispered, his gaze softening further.
He raised one hand, his long fingers gently wiping a small speck of crispy rice off her cheek, his thumb brushing over her soft skin with infinite tenderness.
"Just... don't do it again. I can handle business rivals, corporate wars, and mafia threats... but I cannot handle losing you."
Shruti’s heart hammered violently against her ribs. The weight of his words, filled with an intense, raw honesty, made her chest ache with a sweet, dangerous warmth.
For a breathless, magical moment under the afternoon sun, lying on the soft grass with the ocean roaring nearby, neither of them moved. The eight-year age gap, the family boundaries, the dangerous secret, everything vanished into the quiet air between them.
Suddenly, a sharp voice echoed across the lawn.
"Mr. Raheja! Miss Malhotra!"
Mark, followed by four armed security guards, came sprinting around the corner of the house, guns held ready, looking frantic.
"We saw the perimeter alert! Are you okay, " Mark stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes bulging in absolute shock at the scene before him.
The mighty billionaire Akhil Raheja, covered in tamarind chutney and grass, straddling Shruti Malhotra on the lawn, both of them looking completely unbothered.
Shruti flushed bright red, quickly pushing Akhil’s chest. "Um... Akhil... security."
Akhil let out a soft sigh, a faint, amused smirk playing on his lips. He smoothly pushed himself up, standing tall and offering his long hand down to Shruti.
Shruti took his hand, and with one smooth, effortless pull, Akhil lifted her to her feet, steadying her when she bumped slightly against his chest.
Akhil turned to Mark, his expression instantly shifting back to that of a calm, composed billionaire, despite the bright tamarind chutney stain splashed across his chest.
"Stand down, Mark," Akhil ordered smoothly. "Everything is under control. Miss Malhotra was simply demonstrating a flaw in our east perimeter gate."
Mark blinked, looking utterly confused, then looked at the chutney stain on his boss's shirt. "Uh... understood, sir. Shall I have the gate re-locked?"
"Yes," Akhil nodded. "And double the lock."
Akhil looked back down at Shruti, who was trying her absolute best not to burst into laughter again while brushing grass off her yoga pants.
"Come inside, Miss Malhotra," Akhil said teasingly, nudging her shoulder gently. "It seems we both need a long shower and a change of clothes."
"Lead the way, Mr. Dictator," Shruti smirked, walking beside him towards the grand mansion entrance.
As they walked side-by-side across the lush lawn, Shruti glanced at Akhil through the corner of her eye. His strict rules had failed to keep her locked away, but as she felt the subtle, protective warmth of his presence walking right beside her, she realized something terrifying.
She didn't want to run away from him anymore. Underneath his cold, commanding exterior was a man who cared for her with a fierce, breathtaking intensity, and her heart was falling deeper into his trap with every passing second.