Chapter 7 #3
Gia rolled her eyes playfully at Akhil, shooting him a sly, knowing look that made Shruti wonder what Gia meant by 'Akhil has talked about you for years'.
"Ignore him, Shruti," Gia smiled warmly, taking Shruti’s arm. "He is always a serious business chief! Come inside, I will show you your suite. Chef Matteo has prepared fresh homemade basil pasta and local wine for dinner!"
***
An hour later, Shruti stood on the private terrace of her suite on the top floor of Villa Raheja.
If her suite in Mumbai had been luxurious, this suite in Italy was pure poetry.
The room was decorated in classic romantic Italian style, exposed wooden ceiling beams, a plush king-sized bed with white linen canopies, antique hand-carved furniture, and a private marble bathroom featuring a clawfoot soaking tub facing the lake.
Double glass doors opened out onto a wide, private stone balcony overlooking Lake Como.
The sun was slowly setting over the western alpine mountains, painting the sky in breathtaking shades of deep crimson, fiery orange, and dusty violet.
The calm, mirror-like surface of the lake reflected the glowing colors, while the lights of Bellagio village began to twinkle across the water like distant stars.
Shruti rested her hands against the cool stone balustrade, taking a deep breath of the fresh, sweet mountain air. She felt a profound sense of peace wash over her soul, a peace she hadn't felt in months.
Soft footsteps sounded behind her against the stone terrace floor.
Shruti didn't need to turn around to know who it was. The rich, familiar scent of sandalwood and cedar wrapped around her before he even spoke.
Akhil stepped up beside her, resting his broad arms against the stone railing, looking out at the golden sunset over the lake. He had showered and changed into a simple black polo shirt and dark trousers, looking relaxed and effortlessly handsome.
"What do you think?" Akhil asked quietly, his deep voice vibrating softly in the cool evening air.
"It doesn't feel real, Akhil," Shruti whispered, turning her head to look at his sharp profile illuminated by the golden sunset light. "It feels like I stepped into a postcard. It’s... perfect."
Akhil slowly turned his head to look at her.
The fading sunlight caught the warm golden tones of Shruti’s skin, highlighting the soft curve of her neck and the wind-tousled waves of her dark hair. Her dark eyes were sparkling with genuine happiness, free from the fear and anxiety that had haunted her in Mumbai.
Akhil felt a heavy, powerful tightness grip his chest.
For eight long years, he had kept his distance. For eight long years, he had built walls around his heart, telling himself that she was his best friend's sister, that she was too young, that he was too dark and dangerous for her bright, joyful spirit.
But standing here on his private balcony on Lake Como, thousands of miles away from Mumbai, with the golden sunset reflecting in her eyes... Akhil realized that his defenses were completely useless.
"I'm glad you're happy here, Shruti," Akhil spoke softly, his voice dropping to a low, velvety gravel that made her pulse flutter. "I brought you here to keep you safe... but seeing you smile like this... that’s all that really matters to me."
Shruti’s breath caught in her throat. The deep, raw sincerity in his voice was undeniable.
She took a small step closer to him, looking directly into his dark eyes. "Thank you, Akhil. For saving me at Marine Drive... for bringing me here... for everything."
Akhil didn't say a word. Slowly, deliberately, he raised his hand. His long, warm fingers gently reached up to touch her face, his thumb lightly brushing across her lower lip with infinite, agonizing tenderness.
Shruti’s eyes fluttered closed for a brief second at the electric touch of his skin. She didn't pull away. She leaned subtly into his palm, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.
Akhil stared down at her soft, rosy lips, his dark irises burning with a raw, undeniable hunger that he could no longer fully hide. He leaned down slightly, his hot breath brushing against her cheek...
"Akhil! Shruti! Dinner is served on the lower garden terrace!" Gia’s cheerful voice called out from the courtyard below, shattering the quiet spell.
Akhil froze just inches away from Shruti’s face.
He took a slow, heavy breath, mastering his intense emotions once again, though his thumb lingered on her cheek for one last, agonizing second before he slowly pulled his hand back.
Shruti opened her eyes, her breathing ragged, her cheeks flushed bright pink.
Akhil gave her a small, quiet smile, a smile full of unspoken promises.
"Come, Miss Malhotra," Akhil murmured softly, offering his arm to her. "Let's not keep Chef Matteo's pasta waiting."
Shruti placed her hand softly over his arm, feeling the rock-hard muscle beneath his polo shirt.
As they walked down the stone stairs together into the warm, scented Italian night, Shruti knew that Italy was going to change everything.
The slow burn was reaching its boiling point, and neither of them was going to escape the flames.