Chapter 31 Tokens of Trust
The golden morning light seeped softly through the curtains, casting warm streaks on the cold marble floor. Adwait stirred, blinking slowly as the numbers on his bedside clock came into focus - 8:07 AM. A rare morning when the sun rose before him.
But what truly anchored him wasn't the time. It was the weight in his arms-the soft, sleeping form of Ivikaa curled beside him, her face pressed gently to his chest, breath calm now, but etched with yesterday's residue of fear.
His eyes lingered on her.
Last night had scorched itself into his memory.
That pain. That hollow, broken look in her eyes.
It would haunt him for the rest of his life.
How could someone so fierce look so fragile?
With the caution of someone handling glass, Adwait reached for his phone from the drawer, careful not to disturb her.
A message blinked on the screen:
Maya Awasthi.
Ivikaa Ambani's PA.
Her shadow.
He sighed quietly, sliding his hand out from under Ivikaa's. Her body instinctively searched for his warmth, so he replaced himself with a pillow, tucking it under her arm, then pulled the blanket over her again. Gently, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead. She didn't stir.
He stepped out quietly and closed the door behind him. Maya was already there, standing like a storm waiting to break.
"Rudra," she said flatly.
"Pata hai," he replied, voice devoid of emotion, almost too calm.
[I know.]
"Then why didn't you tell me?" Maya's voice was sharp, a knife cloaked in concern.
"Ivikaa's pain mattered more than Rudra's punishment," Adwait answered with the same infuriating calm - his eyes cold steel.
Maya hesitated, guilt crawling across her face. "Her father's still suspicious. Thankfully, the café owner helped cover the story. But Virya and Vayu won't let this go."
"You should've covered the tracks better. Aren't you named Maya for a reason?" His sarcasm was paper thin but sharp.
A corner of her mouth twitched. "I'll handle it. But what about Iva? She lied to her family for the first time in her life. That's not like her."
Adwait leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "Someone dared to touch her deepest scar. You think she'll stay quiet? You know her better than that."
"She wanted to do it all quietly... still hasn't figured out about Rudra, right?"
He nodded. "Not yet. She was too drained. But she still had the mind to spin a believable story. That's Ivikaa-terrified, but never defeated. She'll piece it together soon."
Maya looked at him for a long beat. "She's still not healed from the first time. That kidnapping... it scarred her soul. Like a tattoo burned onto her in darkness."
Adwait's jaw tightened. "I know. She never truly healed. The night still haunts her. And Rudra, he knew. He weaponized her fear. He planned it."
"I swear I'll kill him," Maya hissed, venom in her voice.
"No," Adwait said firmly. "Let Ivikaa decide what to do. That right belongs to her. Don't rob her of that."
Maya swallowed her rage. "You're right. But Rudra won't be easy to reach now. He'll tighten his security. If he disappears suddenly, people will start asking questions."
Adwait's eyes turned darker. "That's why you stay smart."
"Has she told you what happened back then?" Maya asked, more softly now.
He shook his head. "Didn't press her. She was already hurting."
"Does she know that you already know?"
"No. And there are some things she shouldn't know. Not yet."
A shadow of something heavier passed between them-old secrets, unspoken truths.
"Handle the Ambanis. And the Agnivanshis. Devaki Chachi will help as she is soft hearted. You know how to deal with Viren uncle." His tone sharpened again. "And make sure Raha is far from this mess. Rudra will use her if he gets the chance."
"Fashion week in the US starts next month. I'll send her there."
He nodded once.
Maya turned to leave, then paused. "Let me meet the culprit first."
Adwait's voice turned glacial. "If we're talking about the culprit, where was Ivikaa's shadow when she fell into Rudra's trap?"
Her breath hitched. The words hit harder than he intended-cold, deliberate.
"I was managing her US business," she said quietly, already knowing what was coming.
"Oh, so now you're her PA too? Playing that role so perfectly, you forgot how to be her shadow." He looked her dead in the eye. "The one who never lets her fall-not even in the dark."
Maya flinched.
Silence stretched between them.
It wasn't loud. But it cut.
And somewhere, behind that door, Ivikaa still slept, wrapped in peace too fragile, borrowed from the man standing guard over her world.
Adwait pushed open the bedroom door gently, the creak barely audible. The room was bathed in soft golden sunlight filtering through the sheer curtains, illuminating the figure still curled up in his bed-Ivikaa, asleep, peaceful, the torment of the night nowhere visible on her face now.
He stood still for a moment. His eyes traced her features slowly-her eyelashes resting on her cheeks, the way her lips were parted just slightly, the soft rise and fall of her breath.
But his mind was restless. The fear in her eyes. The tremble in her voice. The bruises, not just on her skin, but deep in her soul...
That memory clawed back into his chest and twisted something there.
Without thinking, he walked closer, knelt beside the bed, and gently tossed the pillow she was hugging aside. As if her body sensed him, she turned in her sleep, burying her face into his arms like her sanctuary had returned.
"I didn't know mornings could be this beautiful," she murmured, still half asleep, voice feather light.
He smiled faintly and kissed her forehead. She stretched in his arms like a lazy kitten, finding comfort in his warmth.
"How are you feeling?" he whispered, his lips close to her ear. She didn't reply immediately, just turned so her back rested against his chest. He instinctively wrapped himself around her.
Her eyes caught something across the room-the royal antique mirror.
In its reflection, she saw them. She, disheveled yet ethereal, wearing his oversized T-shirt, tucked inside his arms like something precious he'd never let go.
Him, disheveled, chin resting near her neck, eyes closed, as if breathing her in was enough to keep him alive.
She felt his nose brush her neckline, his breath warm, slow. Then his arm slid under her tee, fingers beginning to draw slow circles on her skin.
"You're sniffing," she whispered with a smile.
"You smell so good," he murmured, lost in the haze of her presence. A kiss on her shoulder. Another deep breath taken, like she was the only air he needed.
"You look good in my clothes," he added, as his fingers danced along her waist and navel.
"Apni lagti hoon?" she asked with a teasing smile, the intimacy lighting something inside her.
[Do I seem like your own?]
"Bilkul meri apni," he said, and something unspoken bloomed inside her chest.
His voice wasn't flirty but it was reverent.
["Absolutely, like you're truly mine."]
Last night echoed in her ears. That one moment when he'd called her meri jaan-my life. It wasn't a line. It was a truth, wrapped in emotion, uttered in a moment when walls were down and hearts were bare.
"Adwait," she said softly, watching his face.
He hummed, lost in caressing her.
"Did you mean it?" she asked, voice almost unsure, vulnerable.
He paused, looking confused. "Mean what?"
"Last night... when you called me..." she turned toward him, searching his face.
"Meri jaan?" he completed with a half-smile, the kind that showed off his dimples. But his eyes-those grey eyes that often gave nothing away-were full of something new. Something intense.
[My life]
She nodded and slowly traced his beard with her index finger, a featherlight touch. His eyes fluttered shut. For a second, he was undone by that small gesture.
"Haan... meri jaan," he said again, and this time, his voice carried everything - pain, relief, love, and something almost like surrender.
[Yes... my life]
Tears pricked her eyes, uninvited.
"So... if you buy a new flute, will you carve 'Adwait ki jaan' on it?" she asked playfully, trying to lighten the mood.
['Adwait's life']
He laughed, low and soft, but didn't answer.
"Adwait," she said again, more seriously now. He looked at her.
"I'm okay," she said quietly, hugging him. "I was just... weak for a while. But I'm good."
He stared at her like he didn't believe her.
"Stop staring," she chuckled, then paused. "I know you have questions. About last night... and what happened years ago."
Adwait said nothing. He only raised his hand and began gently circling her lips, touching the healing cut.
"Yeah... I'm not over it yet," she admitted. "Sometimes my mind plays tricks on me. I get scared. But not all the time. Over the years I learned to hold myself together."
"You're still carrying it," he said quietly.
"It's there," she nodded. "I went to therapy. I did all the right things. But it's like... a shadow. Some nights, it still visits me. It sits at the edge of my pillow like an old friend."
Adwait's hand froze. She felt it-the stillness in him, like her words had entered him too deeply.
"But that's night," she smiled softly, turning to check the clock. "And it's morning now..."
Her eyes widened.
"OH GOD! It's past nine already?" she exclaimed and jolted up.
Adwait chuckled as she scrambled off the bed.
"I'm so late!" she muttered while running around.
"Have breakfast before going to the office!" he called out, watching her with amusement.
"I can't! Already too late!" she yelled back, dashing out the door, hair flying.
Adwait leaned back on the bed, a smile tugging at his lips as he whispered to the now empty room:
"I didn't know chaos could be this beautiful either."
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The car glided smoothly through the Mumbai morning traffic, the hum of the engine a low background score to their silence.
Ivikaa sat with her phone in hand, scrolling through emails with a mechanical rhythm. But her mind was still stuck somewhere between the echoes of last night and the comforting warmth of the morning.
Maya sat beside her, hands clutched tightly together on her lap, glancing sideways at Iva like she was about to crumble any moment.
"Thanks, Maya," Iva finally said, her voice steady, not cold, but distant like she had packed her emotions in a box and set them aside.
Maya's throat tightened. "I should be the one saying sorry, Iva," she said, her voice barely holding back the crack. "I shouldn't have left you. I was supposed to be your shadow... and I vanished when you needed me most."
Ivikaa didn't look up. "Not your fault," she said flatly, eyes still fixed on the screen. But the scrolling stopped.
Her thumb froze mid-swipe, and her gaze turned inward, not outward. A stillness fell.
Maya's absence... waterlogging... the security being sent away... Rudra showing up at the exact moment... the 'call'... the attackers knowing she had devices on her... the precision.
The fragments began to rearrange themselves. Like a puzzle she had refused to complete out of denial.
Her breath caught.
She whispered it like a curse, or a truth too bitter to digest.
"Rudra."
Maya flinched. Ivikaa didn't move. She sat perfectly still, like a string inside her had just snapped and a storm was about to follow.
Her lips parted slightly, her fingers curled into a fist on her lap.
Iva asked the driver to take a right turn.
"To Cafe Viraha," she instructed, her voice calm but resolute.
Maya looked at her, surprised but didn't speak. The air in the car had shifted. Silence hung thick like morning fog, unspoken thoughts swirling between the two.
As soon as they entered the cafe, the subtle aroma of roasted beans and freshly baked bread wrapped around them like a familiar hug.
Jatin greeted them with his usual bright charm.
Iva's eyes instinctively darted toward the corner table - the one where she and Adwait had sat that evening.
The table still bore the Reserved slab, untouched.
She paused, a flicker of memory crossing her face, and then walked over to another table near the window.
She sat down without a word, and Maya took the seat opposite her.
Jatin approached with a notepad, but Maya ordered without waiting. "Pasta for her. And sandwich for me."
"Coming right up," he said with a courteous nod.
Moments later, Iva's phone buzzed. She glanced down.
RED: Thanks for the money, Iva. I couldn't trace your location - your trackers were all destroyed. Maya updated me though. I hope my precious client is doing better now.
Her fingers froze. Her mind didn't. The pieces started clicking together.
Maya got to RED before anyone else. She coordinated the security. It was her team that eliminated the kidnappers.
Maya's voice cut through her thoughts. "So, this is Cafe Viraha," she said while glancing at the elegant wall murals and the warm, artistic vibe of the space.
Jatin returned, this time with a steaming plate of aaloo paratha and Maya's sandwich. "I ordered pasta," Maya said, puzzled.
Jatin grinned, "I know, Ma'am. This is complimentary. Hosting the owner of Iva Fashion House is an honor for our humble cafe." He placed the plate in front of Iva with a respectful nod and walked away.
Iva didn't speak. She simply picked up a bite of the paratha with her fork, then looked at Maya.
Maya hesitated for a second, then finally asked what had been bothering her since last night.
"Why did you lie to your dad, Iva?"
Iva didn't blink. "Because I want to take care of Rudra."
Maya looked at her, stunned into silence by the sheer weight of that simple sentence.
Maya arched an eyebrow. "Well. Rudra didn't leave any trail behind, but it has to be him," she muttered, sipping water.
"How did you find my location?" Iva finally asked, still staring at the paratha.
Maya sighed, "RED. He sent it to me. Don't overthink, Iva. I handled it. Payment's cleared, you're safe."
"Was it RED?" she asked again, her tone sharper this time more searching than before.
Maya frowned, then unlocked her phone and showed Iva the texts and coordinates. "I was in constant touch with him and his team. You know how fast he works."
Iva nodded slowly, lips curling in a thoughtful smirk. "Rudra touched my deepest scar... now I'll touch his."
"Iva, are you sure?" Maya asked, almost fearing the answer.
"Tell Papa, I'm no longer a silent partner in Ambani Enterprise. Iva is back - in business and in battle." Her eyes gleamed with a spark Maya hadn't seen in a long time.
Maya leaned back and exhaled. "God bless Rudra," she murmured under her breath, both sarcastic and sincere.
Iva absentmindedly traced the faint red marks on her wrist, her smile fading for a brief second. Then she picked at her pasta, eating a few bites before wiping her mouth with a folded napkin. Maya finished too, and they stood to leave.
Jatin rushed to them with a folded receipt and a couple of bills. "Ma'am, the aaloo paratha was complimentary. Please, this is your money."
Iva took the money, then handed it back. Her expression mischievous. "Jatin, tell Adwait next time he wants to feed me, he should do it himself and not hide behind complimentary carbs."
Jatin blinked, utterly baffled at how she figured out it was Adwait's idea.
Back in the car, Iva stared out the window. The city passed by in blurs of grey and gold. She ran her fingers again over the marks on her wrist - absent, pensive.
Her phone chimed.
Adwait: You should not caress those marks.
She didn't even need to check the sender.
Smiling softly, Ivikaa typed back:
Thanks for the breakfast ?? But next time, don't bother Jatin. You should feed me yourself.
She hit send with a smirk tugging at her lips, then locked her phone and placed it aside. No overthinking, no second-guessing - just clarity, control, and a quiet fire that had returned to her eyes.
The car rolled into the driveway of Iva Fashion House, and she stepped out - a woman on a mission.
Once in her office, she buried herself in work.
There was a storm of things to address: her calculated plan for Rudra, the silent reintegration into the Ambani enterprise, the relaunch of her brand presence, and, most importantly, how to break the news to her father that the silent daughter had decided to roar.
Hours passed in that whirlwind of activity.
By evening, the office was winding down. She checked the time - 6:23 PM. Just then, her phone rang. The screen flashed a familiar name.
Adwait.
"I'm waiting outside," he said - direct as ever.
"Why?" she asked, mildly surprised. This wasn't part of their rhythm.
"Office ends at 6. Why are you still in there?" His tone made it sound like she had just committed a crime against common sense.
Iva couldn't help but smile at his oddly charming bluntness. "Coming," she said, shutting her laptop.
She turned to Maya. "Handle the rest, I'm done for the day."
"Iva, wait I'm coming with you," Maya said, already half-rising from her chair.
"I'm going with Adwait," Iva replied, slipping on her blazer.
Maya paused. "He came to pick you up?"
Iva simply smiled and that was enough of an answer.
She walked out.
Outside, Adwait was waiting in his car, drumming absentmindedly on the steering wheel. The golden hue of sunset fell across his face, and for a moment, he looked less like the stoic man she knew and more like the boy he used to be someone who had once believed in rescuing broken things.
She opened the passenger door and slid in without a word. He started the engine, not saying a thing either, but there was a calm between them. The kind of silence that doesn't demand to be filled.
"You actually came?" she said, turning toward him, her voice playful but touched with warmth.
"Open the compartment," he said, his eyes still on the road.
Curious, she obeyed and found a small, beautifully wrapped gift box inside. Her fingers trembled just slightly as she untied the ribbon and opened it.
Inside were three delicate charms:
A miniature flute,
A tiny silver peacock feather,
And a dainty tea cup.
Her breath caught in her throat. Her eyes welled up before she even realized it.
These weren't just random charms. They were symbols. Of Krishna. Of Adwait. Of them.
She pressed the box gently to her chest, eyes closed, letting the emotion wash over her.
Tears slipped silently down her cheeks not from pain, but from something gentler. Something sacred. The kind of feeling you don't get twice in one lifetime.
A crooked smile danced on Adwait's face, like he was enjoying a joke only she hadn't heard yet.
Because nothing screams 'I'm emotionally available' quite like a mystery box in a car.
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