12. Criminally Hot
Haven’t updated twice a week because I had an eye infection. I’ve been avoiding screen time for the past few days, which is why I couldn’t write or post any new chapters.
Also, I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately, but I’ve lost the spark with Wattpad. I can’t seem to connect with my story the way I once did with Love Till Eternity or Kalank.
700+ Votes 250+ Comment.
My head throbbed, a sharp, pounding ache that felt like someone had hammered.
d it all night long. I groaned, clutching my temples and turning to my left for some relief… only to feel something soft against my arm.
A faint, familiar scent hit my senses, and my eyes snapped open.
Dhwani.
She was lying beside me, staring blankly at the ceiling. Her usually innocent face looked tight, her jaw clenched as if she were holding back an explosion.
But why the hell was she looking pissed? And more importantly what was she doing here in my room?
I exhaled heavily, pressing my fingers to my forehead. Of course. This girl could reach anywhere. She was like a ghost appearing out of nowhere, uninvited, unbothered, and somehow always managing to get under my skin.
I rubbed my hands over my face and forced myself upright, but the moment I opened my eyes properly—my soul left my body.
This… this wasn’t my room.
It was her room.
Her freaking room!
And I was sleeping here? On her bed? With her beside me?
Fantastic. Just the kind of nightmare my hangover needed.
I scratched the back of my neck, trying to process how I’d ended up here. My gaze slid toward her. She sat there, arms crossed, cheeks puffed, looking like a very angry marshmallow.
So innocent. So pretty. So…
Wait. No. Absolutely not. Not mine.
God, pull yourself together, Yugant.
Her glare could slice metal. In the last two months, I’d seen her angry, annoyed, dramatic but this version? Never.
“Hey!” I raised my hands in mock surrender. “Did I also get your habit of sleepwalking or something?”
A weak attempt at humor. Maybe she’d crack a smile. Maybe I’d live another day.
She didn’t.
Her jaw flexed as she gritted her teeth, and then, oh great, she started moving closer. My heart skipped. Was she seriously… going to kiss me? Because I accidentally slept in her room?
Get a grip, Yugant, I scolded myself. You’re not in a K-drama.
But then she leaned in. Too close. Her breath hit my neck. I froze.
And just when I thought I was about to get the strangest apology kiss in human history… .
“AHHHHH—”
Her teeth sank into my neck.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” I tried to push her off, but she clung to me like some rabid vampire with a taste for chaos and apparently, my blood.
My sweet, unconsented, totally-innocent blood.
I fell back on the bed, her weight pressing over me. When she finally decided she’d had enough of playing vampire with my neck, she pulled away, satisfied.
I hated it.
I fucking hated that I liked the way her lips curved into a smile as she admired the teeth marks she’d left on me—like some proud artist admiring her masterpiece.
If it were anyone else, I’d have kicked them off the bed without a second thought. But my hands? They betrayed me. They tightened around her waist instead, holding her there.
Her eyes met mine, and the moment she caught me staring, the smile disappeared. She glanced between us, realizing just how close we were. She tried to move, but I didn’t let her. My arm stayed firm around her waist; my other hand slid to her neck.
Her doe-like honey-brown eyes blinked up at me, shimmering with a kind of innocence that makes you forget what sin even feels like.
I pulled her face closer. Her scent was so soothing, it wrapped around me like calm after a storm. There was something about it some kind of magic that every time I inhaled her, I wanted to lose every reason that ever told me not to.
But as I kept staring into her eyes, a flicker of memory stabbed through my head, the girl from last night.
She also had honey-brown eyes.
Did she?
Yes? No?
Why the hell couldn’t I remember?
Did I… kiss her?
Wait—did I actually do that?
And now here I was, holding Dhwani this close?
What kind of messed-up, horny idiot does that? I kissed a stranger last night and now I’m pulling Dhwani close like I’ve lost all sense of decency.
She’s innocent. She doesn’t understand any of this. But I do. And still—I didn’t stop.
I know she’s connected to Samarth. I know I should stay away. But here I am, crossing every line I drew for myself.
So fucking useless, Yugant.
I let her go. She blinked, confused, and pulled herself to the other side of the bed while I got up, and left her room. Every step heavier than the last.
It’s wrong.
So wrong.
She’s innocent—she doesn’t understand the filth of the world yet but I do. And what I’m doing is poison.
She’s so pure, she makes guilt feel like a prayer.
She deserves someone who’ll cherish her all her life, who’ll make her sit on his lashes, love her without losing control—like Samarth.
Not someone like me who kisses one woman and craves another in the same breath.
I took a long shower, hoping it would wash away the chaos in my head. It didn’t.
By the time I got dressed and stepped out, Dhwani was already at the dining table—looking toward the kitchen like a starving kitten waiting for milk. And, of course, sitting in my seat.
I exhaled, grabbed the chair beside hers, and sat down.
It had become a routine now—me losing my spot, her acting like it was always meant to be hers.
The butler finally walked out of the kitchen, balancing a tray of breakfast. Dhwani’s eyes lit up the moment she saw it, and that tiny smile tugged at her lips.
Soupy Maggi.
Of course. I thought maybe today would be something special, but apparently, that’s too much to hope for.
I picked up a toast, spread some butter, and started eating while she happily dug into her bowl.
But something felt… off.
Maybe I was overthinking, or maybe it was just guilt clawing at me again—but she felt distant today. Too quiet. No soft nudges, no playful gestures, no silly attempts to make me read her silence like she usually did.
It was like she’d built an invisible wall between us overnight.
But there was nothing between us that needed a line. My mind mocked me. Yeah right, Romeo, keep pretending it’s “just guilt” and not hormones with a conscience.
I exhaled, rubbing my temple before glancing at her. “Dhwani…”
She looked up instantly, those big innocent eyes blinking at me, eyebrows raised like she’d just been caught stealing candy.
I swear, I can’t handle that level of innocence. It’s messing with my entire existence.
“I… actually… will you come to the office with me, or stay here?” I asked bcz she didn’t like the office environment much, and since yesterday she’d been quieter less hurricanes, more drizzle.
She nodded fast, eyes lighting up like I’d offered her a trip to Disneyland.
“You sure you want to come?”
Another quick nod.
“Alright then. You’ve got five minutes. I’ve got a meeting at 9:30, so move fast.”
I stood, grabbed my coffee mug, and walked toward the couch trying to act like my heartbeat wasn’t doing stupid cartwheels over one tiny nod.
I sank into the couch, sipping my coffee, but my eyes stayed glued to her. She finished her breakfast quickly—no slurping, no mess.
The whole thing felt… calm. Too calm. She looked almost mature.
I frowned.
Was this really Dhwani? The same girl who breaks eggs on the floor? And put a fork in the cup?
Maybe she’s finally growing up. Maybe she’s adapting good habits from me.
Yeah. Definitely from me.
Because Samarth never taught her anything except innocence. And now that very innocence is turning into my biggest distraction.
?.?:? ?:?.?
The moment he left the living room and went outside, I hurried back to my room, closing the door softly behind me. My heartbeat echoed in the quiet steady, careful, not nervous. I couldn’t afford to be nervous.
I walked toward the cupboard and pulled out a small wooden box hidden behind a stack of sketchbooks. Inside it lay the reason I was here, the reason I had to keep pretending.
My fingers brushed over the thin black device tucked within the velvet lining. A miniature data extractor—barely the size of my thumb. I’d need it today. Mr Oldies’ new designs were locked inside his system, confidential, and I needed to get them. I also have the spy mic.
For a second, I hesitated. His face flashed in my mind. He trusted me enough to bring me into his office. And I was going to betray that trust. I swallowed hard, pushing the guilt down where it belonged. Guilt didn’t win wars—information did.
I glanced at the both device resting in my palm. It needed to stay hidden. I tucked them securely under my bra. The one place no one would dare to search.
It felt cold for a second before it settled there, still and silent, like a secret pressed against my heartbeat. Safe. Invisible.
I straightened, adjusted my clothes, and took one last look at the mirror. My reflection stared back—soft smile, calm eyes, the perfect mask.
Innocent. Silent. Sweet.
Exactly what he believed I was.
As I walked downstairs, Mr Perfectionist was already waiting, checking his watch like he was timing my existence.
As soon as he saw me, he opened the car door. Gentleman mode, on. I slid inside, followed by him, and the driver started the engine.
That’s when I noticed his ever-present shadow was missing. What was his name again? Umm… right, Ishaan.
He was always around. Like, always. Their mornings usually started eye contact, and work talk that looked suspiciously close to bromance. I mean, sometimes I felt like I was intruding on a very personal moment.
But today? No Ishaan. No “good morning, sir” in that voice that sounded more loyal than Alexa.
Just silence.
Strange.
After thirty minutes, the car finally slowed to a halt in front of my destination — Raizaada jewellery Emporium. His empire. His pride.
I exhaled slowly, steadying my heartbeat. The sight of the grand glass building gleaming under the sun almost mocked me — welcome, little spy, let’s see if you survive this.
He stepped out first, adjusting his cuffs with that usual air of effortless authority. I followed right after, clutching my dress like a toolbox for betrayal.
“Let’s go, we’re already late.” He started walking, holding my wrist and I let him, too lost in admiring the company for the second time. Just 19 days, Dhwani, I reminded myself.
As we reached his cabin, he walked straight to the table and began taking out my painting colors and brushes. Then he came back and handed them to me.
“See… I know you’re smart, but please don’t do the painting on my table again. You ruined half of my documents yesterday,” he said, exasperated.
I almost laughed but bit my inner cheek to stop myself.
“Sit there,” he pointed toward a neatly arranged corner. “I’ve even set up your canvas. Use it. It’ll be easier—and don’t throw colors on the carpet. Be a good girl, okay?” His voice was cautious, almost pleading.
I nodded, not so innocently.
“Good girl…” he murmured and turned to leave
Wait. I can’t let him go yet.
I reached out, catching his hand, and stepped closer so close that the space between us disappeared as I wrapped my arms around him. He froze, like always, unsure what to do with my sudden affection
Perfect.
While he stood still, I subtly slid my fingers along his coat collar, pretending to fix it—carefully attaching the tiny mic I had hidden in my palm. One soft pat on his chest to seal it in place.
He looked down toward his collar—fucking hell.
My heart skipped. For a split second, I thought he’d caught me.
Without thinking, I grabbed his face, stood on my tiptoes, and pressed a quick kiss against his jaw. His entire body went still, the warmth of his skin burning under my lips. When I pulled back, his eyes locked with mine—sharp, unreadable.
I forced a nervous smile, praying he’d buy it.
It’s okay… it’s okay, I told myself silently. It was just a peck.
If this was what it took to find my brother, then so be it. I could cross any line. This was nothing.
He raised his hand slowly, fingertips brushing my cheek, tracing the corner of my lips like he owned every breath that escaped them. My lungs refused to work. I shut my eyes as he stepped closer.
No… please don’t.
“You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” his voice was low, rough—like gravel grinding against silk. “Or do you?”
I stumbled back until my thigh hit the edge of the desk. My pulse hammered against my throat. Fear, yes but not just that. It was the fear of what he might do… and worse, what I might let him.
But you said you’d cross every limit, Dhwani… didn’t you? My mind mocked me, taunting, whispering all the rules I’d already broken.
Shut up. Not now. Not him.
He had to leave for his meeting. I needed him gone, needed to hear that conversation, to steal what I came for.
I pressed a trembling palm to his chest, meaning to push him back—but he caught my hand, holding it there.
His heartbeat slammed beneath my touch, wild and erratic, syncing with mine like some twisted rhythm neither of us wanted to admit.
His face dipped closer, his breath ghosting against my ear. “You don’t know,” he murmured, his voice dark, seductive, dangerous, “when you tease the fire, little flower… it stops burning things—” his lips brushed my jaw, “—and starts devouring them.”
I took a shaky breath as his warm breath fanned over my lips. I tried to turn away, but his fingers caught my jaw, forcing it upward until our mouths hovered…. One wrong breath, and they’d collide.
“You don’t know,” he rasped, his voice low and jagged, “how much I’m holding myself back.
You’re here as someone else’s possession, and because you’re too damn pure for the kind of thoughts you make me have.
” He leaned closer, his tone dropping to a dangerous whisper.
“But the moment that control breaks little bird… you won’t be able to tell where your pulse ends and mine begins. ”
Okay, I know it’s out of syllabus, but Mr. 1900’s is hot—criminally hot. The way he talks… its like his voice is soaked in sin and wrapped in velvet. I didn’t even understand half of what he said, but damn, whatever it was, it melted something inside me.
My heart was fluttering like a fool and my face burned as if someone had turned on a heater inside me.
Stop it, you bitch, I scolded myself. He’s not your crush, he’s your target.
Think, Dhwani. Think! He’s older. Dangerous. Too composed for his own good. Talks like sin itself wears a suit and drinks coffee. And you—God, you’re standing here blushing like a schoolgirl instead of a thief.
You’re here to steal, not to swoon. You’re here to finish something, not to drown in his voice.
I stayed lost in my stupid thoughts until the sound of the door shutting snapped me back.
Oh… he’s gone?
Shit.
He was talking hot. Like really hot. I was enjoying that, ugh, what the hell is wrong with me?
It’s fine, Dhwani. You live with him 24/7. You can push his buttons anytime you want. He’s like a walking temptation dispenser in a suit—just press the right one and boom, chaos.
Now, focus on your damn task, bitch. You’re not here to drool; you’re here to steal.
700+ Votes 250+ Comment.