Chapter 9 #2
Gia reached across the table and gently squeezed Shruti’s trembling hand.
"Yes, Shruti. A small, candid photo of a nineteen-year-old girl sitting in a garden gazebo, holding a piece of chocolate and smiling at the camera.
He has carried that photograph in his wallet every single day for eight years. "
Tears spilled over Shruti’s eyelashes, rolling down her golden cheeks.
All the pieces of the puzzle, eight years of unspoken tension, his fierce protectiveness, his refusal to marry, his cold distance whenever other men approached her, the Lake Como villa built specifically for her dream, instantly clicked together in her mind with blinding, crystal clarity.
He hadn't stayed away because he saw her as a little sister.
He had stayed away because he loved her so deeply, so intensely, that he was terrified of ruining her life or breaking his solemn promise to her brother Raghav.
He had carried the heavy burden of a silent, selfless love for nearly a decade, choosing to protect her from a distance rather than force his feelings upon her.
"He loves you, Shruti," Gia murmured gently, her eyes full of warmth. "He has always loved you. He built this entire villa hoping that one day you would stand on that balcony. Do not let his dark, guarded nature fool you. The man belongs to you, body, mind, and soul."
Shruti wiped her tear-stained cheeks, a watery, breathtaking smile breaking across her face.
For eight long years, she had believed her love was a one-sided, foolish crush. Now she knew the truth. Akhil Raheja’s heart had been hers all along.
***
Meanwhile, forty miles away, in a secluded, heavily guarded luxury estate on the outskirts of Como town, a very different conversation was taking place.
The room was dark, lined with heavy velvet curtains and mahogany paneling. Sitting behind a grand marble desk was Victor Romano.
Victor was a broad-shouldered, ruthless man in his early fifties, with silver-streaked hair, cold grey eyes, and a thick scar running along his left jawline. He was holding a glass of expensive Italian grappa, listening to an encrypted satellite call on speakerphone.
The voice coming through the speaker belonged to Reyansh Khanna.
"Did your men secure the girl last night, Victor?" Reyansh demanded from Mumbai, his tone laced with sharp frustration.
Victor Romano took a slow sip of his drink, his cold eyes narrowing into slits.
"Raheja’s villa is a fortress, Reyansh. He has underwater sonar grids, private security vessels, and elite former military operatives guarding the perimeter.
My men couldn't even reach the stone dock without being targeted. "
"I don't give a damn about his security!
" Reyansh snarled through the speaker, slamming his fist against a desk in Mumbai.
"Shruti Malhotra saw me threatening Kapoor at the gala!
If she testifies against me in an Indian court, my entire corporate empire will crumble!
You promised me you would handle her once Akhil brought her to Italy! "
"Calm down, Khanna," Victor said smoothly, his voice cold and calculated as steel. "Directly attacking Villa Raheja will bring the Italian authorities down on my head. We need a cleaner approach."
"What clean approach?!" Reyansh demanded sharply. "Akhil isn't going to let her step outside that villa!"
A dark, sinister smile spread slowly across Victor Romano’s scarred face. He reached out his hand and picked up an elegant, gold-embossed invitation card resting on his desk.
The invitation card bore the crest of the city of Venice, announcing the annual high-society ''Venice Carnival Masked Gala'', an exclusive, centuries-old masked ball hosted at a private palace along the Grand Canal in Venice later that week.
"Akhil Raheja is a major sponsor of the Venice Historic Preservation Society," Victor explained smoothly, turning the gold card in his fingers. "He attends the Venice Carnival Gala every year to maintain his European business standing. And this year, he will bring Miss Malhotra with him."
On the other end of the line, Reyansh paused. "A masked carnival?"
"Yes," Victor smirked darkly. "In Venice, during Carnival night, thousands of people wear elaborate porcelain masks and long cloaks.
Everyone looks identical. My men will blend seamlessly into the crowd inside the palace.
Once Akhil is distracted, we will isolate the girl, grab her in the crowded narrow alleys, and pull her onto a private boat before he even realizes she is missing. "
Reyansh let out a cold, vicious laugh through the speaker. "Brilliant, Victor. Once you have her, hold her at your private mountain compound until I arrive in Italy."
"Consider it done," Victor Romano murmured, tossing the gold invitation card back onto his desk. "Miss Malhotra will not escape Venice."
***
Back at Villa Raheja, the sun was high in the sky by one o'clock in the afternoon.