71| Done with me? | Aayansh and Aashika. #2
As Tara is gone, all the warmth and softness vanishes from the environment. Dhairya turns to Arsh, his expression turning severe. "What is happening here?"
"What?" Arsh responds calmly, relaxing himself on the sofa. "My sister-your daughter-is finally home. Aren't you happy about that?"
Dhairya's brow furrows, questions flashing through his eyes, while Arsh exhales through his nose, his patience wearing dangerously thin.
"Until now," he begins, "I was helpless because of Tara's choices. Nothing mattered more than what she wanted. But this time, she chose us herself... over that man."
Dhairya takes a moment, seeming conflicted more than pleased. "And... How are you so convinced that man wouldn't do anything?"
"I do not give a fuck about him," Arsh cuts in, each word determined as he looks straight into his father's eyes. "Tara is here. Safe. That's the only thing that matters. And I just want to see her smiling and happy, so I hope you won't bring this out again. Especially in front of her."
Dhairya says nothing, momentarily bewildered, while Arsh turns his gaze toward the three men-Aariv, Luca, and Braden-standing in a straight, rigid posture.
"Increase security around Tara," he orders.
"There should be no cameras on her floor, but every single thing around the space will be monitored and recorded. She mustn't know about any of this, and," his expression hardens.
"NO ONE GETS NEAR HER WITHOUT MY PERMISSION. The mistake we made last time will not be repeated. Clear?"
"Yes, boss," the three acknowledge in unison.
Pausing for a moment, Arsh adds, "And keep an eye on him too."
Luca mutters in confusion, "Boss... him? Princess's husband?"
Arsh's jaw tightens as he fixes his gaze on Luca. "Aayansh Oberoi. Nothing more."
A deadly silence settles over the room.
But breaking it, Arsh dismisses them at once. "You all may leave."
As they leave, Arsh turns to his father, who is still rooted to the spot, his eyes fixed on him. "Sit, Dad," Arsh says.
"First, answer me," Dhairya demands, his tone leaving no room for argument. "What exactly have you done?"
For a moment, Arsh holds his father's gaze, the weight of what he has done catching up with him, guilt shadowing his expression, his eyes drop a fraction. "Tara thinks I brought her here just for her birthday... because having her here for the occasion is important for our reputation."
Dhairya's expression hardens. "So... you lied to her?"
"And here, you're planning something else behind her back? Why, Arsh?"
"I don't have the heart to do that, Dad," Arsh shuts his eyes, a strange kind of exhaustion in his voice.
"She's suffered enough these past few months, and now I want to keep her away from all the mess. At such a young age, she's already endured betrayals, even..." His voice drops further. "Even lost her children. All because of one man."
His jaw locks for a moment before loosening as he finally looks up. "After her birthday, I'll confront her myself about all of it. But you won't say a word to her."
He rises to his feet. "Act normal. Prepare for the days ahead. This birthday of hers will be unforgettable."
With that, a memory from the previous day resurfaces in his mind.
"Well, I think you should learn to keep things private, no?" he says, picking up the conversation right where they left off in the event hall.
"I'm not dragging you to my bedroom, Arsh Jindal." Settling the cigar between his lips, Aayansh answers, hating how Arsh is constantly trying to soften his tone and twist his words when all that's in that head of his is venom for him.
Not bothering to turn around and look at Arsh's reaction, he exhales a wisp of smoke into the air and continues to stare at the dark sky outside.
And then, Arsh's voice follows. "One night-that's all it takes to bring that confidence crashing down."
The frustration and arrogance in Arsh's voice settles something inside Aayansh, like watching him lose his shit is a different kind of entertainment altogether.
His gaze drops from the dark sky to the burning cigar between his fingers, the smoke mingling with the air as the corner of his lips twists.
"What happened?" Arsh speaks again, standing and shoving his hands into his pockets, his lips curling into a mocking grin. "You have nothing to say this time? Come on, say something provocative. I'm waiting for your disgusting answer."
Aayansh still doesn't turn around. No words. No reaction. Another drag from the cigar.
"This is the difference between me and you," Arsh continues. "You're disgusting-inside and out. You manipulated Tara into that marriage. Used violence to get her back. Never cared about what she wanted. Never had a single good intention-"
"Correct," This time, Aayansh cuts in, walking over to the single-seater sofa and sinking into it. He settles his arms along the edges, leaning back as his gaze finally lands on Arsh, his demeanor completely relaxed.
"I've never had any good intentions towards her," He says. “And my intentions—are worse now.”
He tilts his head slightly. "Brother-in-law."
Arsh's remaining patience snaps. "Shut the fuck up. I've never accepted that marriage. Never considered Tara your wife."
Aayansh's thumb taps against the edge of the sofa where his arm rests. Once. Twice. Staring at Arsh the same way... already bored. But still patient.
"So... for your information, I'm taking her back to New York tomorrow morning."
Silence returns between them once more.
Arsh's sharp, unapologetic gaze remains fixed on Aayansh's unbothered one.
Then, Aayansh exhales, as though Arsh has finally said something worth answering.
Breaking the silence in that calm, eerie tone of his, he says. "If my woman herself agrees to return with you, take her back."
That has even Arsh's eyes narrow in disbelief.
He's not stupid. He knows someone like Aayansh would never make anything that easy. Or that clean.
Still, he leans back against the wall beside him, a bitter edge creeping into his voice. "So, you've finally grown the balls to make the right decision?"
"Don't go on my balls, brother-in-law," Aayansh smirks. "You'll curse your own the moment you realise how 'right' my decisions are."
Dressed in a black leather jacket and jeans, her shoulder-length hair cascading freely around her face, with nothing but a touch of kohl accentuating her eyes, Aashika enters the main building of Aaina's medical subsidiary.
She stops at the reception desk. "Mr. Deewan?"
"Uh, which Deewan, ma'am? I mean-"
"The elder one. Mr. Moksh," she cuts in, her finger tapping steadily against the counter.
"I'm really sorry, ma'am," the receptionist apologises. "Mr. Moksh isn't available at the moment. But Dr. Malang-"
"Alright." With that, Aashika starts walking ahead.
Getting her phone out, she dials Moksh's number. The call is answered on the first ring, but before he can say a word, she speaks. "You seem quite busy nowadays?"
On the other side, Moksh stays silent for a moment, as though the mere sound of her voice has left him mesmerised. Then, finally, he answers. "I'm sorry. If I'd known you'd be this desperate to see me, I wouldn't have left the country."
"So full of yourself," Aashika comments, completely unbothered as she walks ahead. "Just like your brother. Are all Deewans like that?"
"I think you-"
"Well, come back as soon as possible," she cuts him off. "There's a legal matter I need you to handle."
"Too straightforward," Moksh says softly. "That's not how we ask for a favour."
Aashika says nothing to that.
But Moksh, clearly, is in no mood to end the conversation anytime soon.
"Hearing your voice," he murmurs, almost too gently. "No one would ever guess you talk like a villain... unless you let someone play one in-"
"I don't like anyone trying to play villain in my life," she cuts him off again. "I'm enough for that."
Using the private lift, she reaches the third floor, still on the call. At the same time, down the corridor, Malang is heading toward the elevator, lightly whistling to himself.
But the moment he spots Aashika approaching along the same corridor, he stiffens, runs a hand through his hair, then quickly scans the surroundings for anything reflective, checking whether he looks hot enough.
That's when his eyes land on a girl carrying a small red velvet cake. "Lisaaa?!" he calls out.
Lisa's gaze immediately shifts toward him, her brows furrowing as he gestures for her to come closer.
She approaches anyway.
"Dr. Deewan, you-" Malang pulls her closer, wrapping a finger around a strand of her hair as he gazes into her eyes with exaggerated romance. All while shooting Aashika a quick, smug side-eye, making sure she sees them.
Lisa's lips part at the sensation. "Ah don't... you're turning me on," she breathes.
"Sweetheart, you've no idea what else I could do with a gorgeous woman like you," he says, throwing another side-eye in Aashika's direction as she draws closer.
Lisa, completely swept up in the moment, breathes again, "Fuck. Dr. Deewan."
"YEAH, FUCK!" Malang leans closer, his pulse spiking as he realizes Aashika is almost there.
One step.
Another.
Lisa also brings her lips closer to his.
The distance between them almost closes. Malang gives one last side-eye toward Aashika-
But she walks past them as though they don't even exist, utterly unfazed.
He watches her go, his brows drawn together in amazement. But then Lisa's breathless moan catches his attention, and he looks down at her. Her eyes are shut, her breathing uneven like she's already taking the feel, "Please... I can't wait!"
He mutters a curse under his breath, but just as he's about to take a step back, Lisa looks at him with need. "What are you waiting for? Please-"
His face falls. Then he quickly raises his small finger. "I'll have to go!"
"What? WHERE?!"
"Somewhere."
"Huh?"
"WASHROOM!"
"You can't leave me dry after turning me on."