Chapter 12 #2
She was holding the printed security dossier in her hand, her face deathly pale, her dark eyes flashing with a terrifying mix of raw heartbreak, cold fury, and deep, agonizing betrayal. The laptop screen behind her was still displaying the decrypted intelligence logs.
Akhil’s heart dropped straight into his stomach like a block of ice. His dark eyes widened in sudden, absolute horror as he realized what she was holding.
"Shruti..." Akhil breathed, his voice cracking.
"Don't," Shruti spoke. Her voice wasn't loud or dramatic. It was quiet, steady, and cold enough to freeze the room. "Don't you dare step another inch closer to me, Akhil Raheja."
Akhil took an instinctive step forward, his hands raised in a pleading, desperate gesture. "Shruti... listen to me. Please let me explain, "
"Explain what?!" Shruti yelled, her voice breaking as tears poured down her golden cheeks, slamming the printed security dossier hard onto the marble desk.
"Explain how you lied to my face?! Explain how you took me to Venice knowing that a mafia boss was waiting to kidnap me?
! Explain how you used me as live bait to win your stupid corporate war against Reyansh Khanna? !"
"I did NOT use you as bait!" Akhil shouted back, his deep voice thick with frantic, desperate emotion as he closed the distance between them, stopping just at the edge of the desk.
"Shruti, I swear to God, I never used you!
My men were everywhere! I had thirty armed operatives surrounding that ballroom! You were never in danger!"
"I HAD A GUN POINTED AT MY CHEST, AKHIL!
" Shruti screamed, her chest heaving with furious sobs, pointing a shaking finger at his face.
"Victor Romano held a silenced pistol to my chest in a dark courtyard while his thugs tried to shove a cloth bag over my head!
Is that what you call 'never in danger'? !"
Akhil’s face turned ghostly white. The raw, terrifying guilt of that memory struck him like a physical blow. He reached out his hands across the desk, his fingers trembling.
"Shruti... please," Akhil begged, his deep voice cracking with a vulnerability few people had ever heard from him.
"I know I made a mistake. I know I should have told you.
But I was trying to protect you! I wanted to eliminate Romano so he could never threaten you or your family again! I couldn't let you live in fear!"
"Protect me?" Shruti let out a bitter, heartbroken laugh, shaking her head as tears streamed down her face. "Is that what you call this, Akhil? Protection?"
She stepped around the desk, looking up into his dark, frantic eyes with a cold, piercing glare that cut straight to his soul.
"Protection requires respect, Akhil," Shruti stated, her voice trembling with intense emotion.
"Protection means treating me like a partner, an equal, a human being who has a right to know the truth about her own life!
You didn't protect me... you controlled me!
You manipulated me! You treated me like a helpless piece of baggage that you could move around on your corporate chessboard! "
"That's not true!" Akhil pleaded, reaching out to grab her hands, but Shruti sharply slapped his hands away.
"Don't touch me!" Shruti snarled, backing away from him.
Akhil froze, his hands hovering in the air, his dark eyes filled with absolute, agonizing pain as if she had stabbed him through the heart.
"Shruti..." Akhil whispered rawly, his breathing heavy and ragged. "Everything I did... every decision I made... I did it because I love you. I couldn't bear the thought of losing you."
"Love?" Shruti looked at him, her dark eyes filled with a deep, crushing disappointment that broke Akhil’s spirit far more than any blade ever could.
"You don't know what love is, Akhil. Love is built on trust. Love means trusting me with the truth, even when it's dangerous.
But you didn't trust me. You never trusted me. "
She wiped her tear-stained cheeks with the back of her hand, taking a long, steadying breath, her posture hardening into pure, unyielding stone.
"You spent eight years hiding your feelings because you thought you knew what was best for me," Shruti said quietly, her words echoing through the silent study like a death sentence.
"And the moment you finally confessed your love...
you lied to me again. You are no different than the dictator I fought against in Mumbai. "
Akhil felt as if the ground beneath his feet had completely collapsed. The raw, brutal truth of her words shattered his soul. He stood there, the powerful billionaire who owned empires, looking completely powerless and broken before the woman he loved.
"Shruti... please don't do this," Akhil whispered, his voice barely audible, filled with pure, agonizing desperation. "Don't walk away from us."
"There is no 'us', Akhil," Shruti stated coldly, her dark eyes devoid of the warmth that had lit up his world. "There was only a lie."
***
Without saying another word, Shruti turned around and walked out of the study, her head held high despite the heavy tears streaming down her face.
She hurried upstairs to her suite, pulled out her leather luggage trunk, and began frantically packing her clothes.
Gia Moretti, having heard the raised voices from the garden, rushed into the suite, her face pale with concern. "Shruti! Signorina! What happened?! What is wrong?!"
"Gia... please," Shruti sobbed, her hands shaking as she shoved her travel clothes into her bag. "I need to go back to Mumbai. Right now. Please arrange a car to the airport."
"Shruti, wait!" Gia pleaded, taking her hands. "Akhil loves you! I know him, whatever he did, he did it out of his protective nature, "
"He lied to me, Gia!" Shruti cried out, her heart breaking all over again. "He used me as bait in Venice! He kept me in the dark! I cannot stay in this house for another second!"
Gia looked at Shruti’s utterly heartbroken face, realizing that no words could fix the massive rift that had just opened between them. She let out a soft, sad sigh and nodded slowly. "Okay, Shruti. I will have a driver take you to Milan Airport."
Downstairs in the study, Akhil stood alone in the dark room, staring at the empty space where Shruti had stood.
He looked at his trembling hands, then looked down at the printed dossier on his desk. The memory of her heartbroken, disappointed eyes burned into his brain like hot iron.
He had spent eight years holding back his love to protect her, and in his desperate, reckless attempt to keep her safe, he had destroyed the very trust that bound her heart to his.
Suddenly, his private phone buzzed on the desk.
Akhil picked it up with numb fingers. The caller ID displayed an urgent notification from Vihaan Arora in Mumbai.
Akhil brought the phone to his ear, his voice hollow and dead. "What is it, Vihaan?"
"Akhil! We have a massive crisis in Mumbai!
" Vihaan’s frantic voice boomed through the speaker.
"Reyansh Khanna just released a series of manipulated corporate leaks and media scandals to the press!
He is claiming that the Raheja Group used illegal coercion in Italy and that the Malhotra family's shipping company is involved in money laundering! "
Akhil’s dark eyes narrowed, a cold, dangerous numbness settling over his features. "What else?"
"That's not the worst part," Vihaan warned urgently. "Reyansh’s media team leaked personal photographs of you and Sonia Kapoor from the charity gala two weeks ago, claiming that you two are secretly engaged! The Indian media is going crazy! It's all over the news channels in Mumbai!"
Akhil gripped his phone so hard the glass screen cracked slightly under his knuckles.
Reyansh Khanna was launching his final, desperate attack, targeting Akhil’s business, smearing the Malhotra family name, and using media lies to destroy Akhil's reputation.
"Order my private jet to prepare for immediate takeoff," Akhil commanded, his deep voice cold as ice, completely stripped of all emotion. "We are returning to Mumbai today."
***
Two hours later, the sleek black luxury sedan pulled up to the private terminal at Milan Malpensa Airport.
Shruti sat in the back seat, staring out the window at the rainy Italian runway. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying, her heart feeling hollow and numb.
Akhil stepped out of the front passenger side.
He didn't speak to her. He didn't try to touch her.
He knew that any attempt to explain would only deepen her pain.
He stood beside her door, holding an umbrella over her head as she stepped out of the car, his broad frame shielding her from the falling rain just as he had always done.
Shruti didn't look at him. She walked straight past him towards the private Gulfstream jet, her posture stiff and distant.
Akhil followed three paces behind her, his dark eyes fixed on her back, his face a stone mask of silent, agonizing grief.
As the private jet soared into the dark European sky, heading back towards the chaotic, stormy city of Mumbai, the silence inside the luxury cabin was heavy as lead.
Shruti sat by her oval window, looking out at the fading clouds of Italy, her hand resting over her aching, broken heart.
Italy had brought her the greatest joy of her life, and the most brutal betrayal she had ever known.
The romantic fairytale of Lake Como was officially over.
A storm was waiting for them in Mumbai, a storm of media scandals, corporate wars, and dangerous traps that was about to test them both to their absolute limits.