23. Door Closed
I was in my room, pacing like a madwoman. I don't even know since when-chewing on my nails that I'd grown with so much love, care, and patience. Stress won. Nails lost.
Now my fingers looked like chewed pencils after an anxiety attack.
Heartbreak.
Pure heartbreak.
And obviously, it was all Yugant's fault.
No-wait, Correction.
It was my fault.
Why did he even give me that drink last night?
I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing my brain to rewind.
And the very next second, I smacked my own forehead-hard. It stung, but honestly? Deserved.
I took that drink myself from the refrigerator.
Yugant didn't force me.
I'd officially accused the wrong man when the criminal was my bloody useless overthinking brain.
Okay, fine-I drank that thing myself.
But did I also change my clothes on my own?
Did I really put on his shirt?
Was I being bold...or just incredibly dumb?
I groaned, dragging a hand down my face.
I should talk to him.
I will talk to him.
But first-food.
I was starving. Mentally, emotionally, physically. Stealing designs, stealing peace, stealing sanity-it burns calories, okay?
I went to the washroom, splashed water on my face, and stared at my reflection.
"Okay, Dhwani," I muttered. "At least look human. Not... kidnapped cow."
Good enough.
By the time I reached downstairs, dinner was already set. Everyone was seated-Daadi, Daadu, Dhrithika, Ishaan.
I quietly took the last chair at the end of the dining table and served myself without waiting.
Yes, I know. Bad manners.
Bhai used to scold me for this exact thing.
But hunger etiquette.
I had barely taken two bites when footsteps echoed.
Yugant walked in.
Trousers. Vest. Calm face. Annoyingly calm.
I glanced at Mrs. Raizaada instinctively. She looked at me for half a second-then looked away like I didn't exist.
Oh, interesting.
So now she won't comment on him roaming around half-dressed?
That vest is basically an undershirt.
Isn't that the male version of a bra?
Hypocrisy much?
I shook my head and focused on my food. Rice. Dal. Sabzi. Heaven.
The chair beside Dhrithika scraped back. Yugant sat down.
Silence followed, the uncomfortable thick kind.
"You didn't eat lunch, bhabhi" Dhrithika said suddenly, breaking it.
Urghhh....bhabhi.
I froze mid bite and Yugant's eyes lifted, towards me of course.
Great.
"I was busy," I replied casually, shoving more food into my mouth like it could protect me from conversations.
"Busy doing what?" Daadi asked sharply.
Stealing your grandson's work.
"Surviving," I muttered.
Daadi narrowed her eyes. "You talk like this every day?"
"Only on days ending with 'y'," I replied before thinking, and later but my lips.
This tongue of mine, will put me in deep shit someday.
"Which 'Y' bhabhi?" Dhritika asked.
I looked up at her, slowly.
"Excuse me?"
She grinned, "I mean-Y as in day, or Y as in Yugant?" she clarified, blinking innocently. "Because both seem... unavoidable."
I nearly choked.
Yugant finally looked up from his plate. "Dhrithika." He looked at her with a warning a way.
"What bhaiya?" she shrugged. "I'm just asking a logical question."
"Ahmm... I'm actually done. My stomach is full," I said, pushing my chair back. "I should leave."
"Sit down and finish what's on your plate," Yugant's voice cut in-deep, controlled, final.
I glanced at the food. I was never good at finishing meals. Bad habit. One of many.
"I'm full," I said softly.
His gaze lifted to mine, unwavering.
"I didn't ask how you feel," he said calmly. "You took the food. You don't walk away halfway."
I stiffened. "but-"
He leaned back, arms crossing. "Sit down," he finished, calm but unyielding, "and eat. Every. Last. Bite."
Huh. Badtameez
I dragged the chair back with unnecessary drama and plopped down.
Sir had commanded-and apparently in this house, commands come with an invisible gun to your dignity.
And I've already fucked up enough things today and didn't feel like adding "public rebellion at dinner table" to the list.
I pulled my plate closer.
Happy now, Mr. Control Freak? I'm sitting. Eating. Obeying.
All through dinner, I could feel his gaze on me-hot and heavy.
Normally, I'd have looked right back, dared him to blink first.
But today?
Today I was already standing in the middle of a mess I'd created myself. So yes, for once, I chose survival over attitude.
I finished the food somehow.
And then-Buurp.
The sound wasn't even that dramatic, but the room went dead silent. Every single head turned toward me.
They stared like I hadn't burped- like I'd committed a felony. Like I'd farted during a national anthem.
Crazy family.
Although no one said anything.
The room slowly emptied, chairs scraping, footsteps fading-until it was just the two of us.
Yugant stayed seated. The clock ticked past nine.
I looked at him, only to find he was already looking at me.
For a few seconds, neither of us moved. Then he pushed his chair back and stood, turning away like the conversation ended before starting.
"Mr. Raizaada..." I called-God knows why. Maybe a habit. Maybe panic.
He turned back, but said nothing. No anger. No sarcasm. Just silence, and his silence scared me more than his rage.
"What's the plan for tonight?" I asked.
Great. Perfect.
Why did that sound so wrong coming out of my mouth?
" About what?"
"About our deal!"
"I have no plans to continue that five-night deal," he said, finally meeting my eyes.
My chest dropped.
Of course.
Of fucking course. I was just afraid of this.
I stepped closer. "Why?"
"Because," he said flatly, "I don't want a tag attached to my name."
A pause.
"Do you know the word?" His jaw tightened. "Oh right. Rape."
The word hit me like a slap. I closed my eyes as guilt crashed over me-hot and choking.
When I opened them again, he was already at the stairs.
Say something, Dhwani.
You argue like a buffalo all day, but the moment it's your fault, you go silent?
"Mr. Raizaada!" I rushed after him.
He didn't stop.
"Mr. Raizaada," I said again, breathless, my voice breaking despite myself.
"You can't do this."
"Why can't I?" he asked without stopping.
"Because-because you said Raizaadas don't pull back from their words," I said, struggling to keep pace as we reached the corridor.
He halted abruptly and turned, his eyes blazing. "So you want me to walk around with a new label stamped on my forehead?" he shot back. "Is that it?"
The anger was there-but beneath it was Hurt.
"Okay," I said quickly, swallowing hard. "It was my mistake. What I said was wrong. But you can't do this. I need those designs."
That was when he stopped completely-right outside his room.
I barely had time to exhale before his hand shoved me back. My spine hit the wall beside his door, knocking the breath out of me.
"How selfish can you be?" he snapped, closing in. "Do you even fucking see anything beyond those designs?"
"No," I said honestly, my voice shaking. "I don't. Because my brother's life depends on them. And yes-I am selfish when it comes to him. I won't deny that."
My eyes burned, but I blinked fast, refusing to let the tears fall.
He looked exhausted. Angry.
"I told you," he said coldly, "the deal is off. And that's final."
He turned before stepping inside his room. Panic surged through me.
Before the door could close, I shoved my foot between it.
"Yugant, please," I whispered. "Don't do this. I'm sorry for what I said earlier. You can-" my voice cracked, "-you can do whatever you want. I won't say anything. I swear."
A tear slipped my eyes despite my effort. I wiped it away harshly.
"If you want intimacy... I won't resist. I'll lie there silently. Just-please. I need those designs."
Suddenly he grabbed my arm and pulled me inside. The door slammed shut behind us. I was pinned against it-his presence overwhelming, furious, controlled only by a thread.
"So this is what you still think?" he demanded, his fist slamming into the wood beside my head. "That this what I want?" His voice dropped, dark and dangerous. "Your body?"
Why was he acting as if the five nights deal wasn't meant for this? We both knew what he meant when he said it.
"Isn't that what you wanted?"
He stepped away from me abruptly, running a hand through his hair like he was losing his grip on reality.
At that moment, I felt stupid.
Small.
Misread.
"Enough," he snapped. "Let's end this."
He pulled his phone from his pocket, jaw clenched so tight I thought it might crack.
"You want the designs?" he continued coldly. "Take them. And get out of my sight-because I'm losing my sanity every second you stand in front of me."
He dialed a number.
"Ishaan," he said flatly. "Bring me the file."
I stopped breathing.
Was he serious?
Seconds passed. Then minutes.
A knock echoed through the room.
He shoved me aside before opening the door.
Ishaan stood there. His eyes flicked to me-just for a second before he handed the file to Yugant and walked away without a word.
The door shut again. Locked.
Yugant turned toward me and grabbed my wrist, pressing the file into my hand.
"Take it."
My lips parted in disbelief.
"Are... are these real?" I whispered.
"See for yourself," he replied, his voice rough. There was no softness-only resentment.
But did I care?
No.
This was the reason I came here.
I wiped my face, forcing my vision steady.
As I opened the file, my breath caught.
The first design-perfect.
The second-flawless.
Third. Fourth.
They were all there.
Every single one of them.
And with that realization came something heavier than relief-
Because he had just handed me exactly what I wanted. And I wasn't sure what that made either of us anymore.
"What's the price of these designs, Mr. Raizaada?" I asked quietly. Because in his world, nothing ever came free.
He didn't hesitate.
"I want you gone," he said, voice stripped of all emotion. "So far away that I never have to see your face again."
His eyes hardened, lethal and final.
"And if you ever stand in front of me again," he continued, each word deliberate, "the only thing waiting for you will be your destruction."
I blinked.
He wanted me gone.
Of course, we are nothing-neither allies nor enemies anymore. Just two people who collided and burned each other in the process. Why would he want me anywhere near him?
I nodded slowly.
"Thank you... for the designs," I said. "I'll leave in the morning."
The words tasted bitter on my tongue.
He didn't even turn around.
I reached for the door handle-then stopped.
If I was leaving, I needed answers.
"What happened last night?" I asked quietly.
"Nothing," he replied, sharp and final, his back still to me.
"And the five nights?" I pushed. "If it was never about intimacy... then what was it?"
This time, he turned.
"You really want to know?"
I nodded.
He walked past me to the bookshelf beside the refrigerator and pulled out a rolled magazine file-old, slightly worn. He tossed it at my feet.
It opened as it hit the floor.
There was an article.
A national-level painting fellowship announcement. Exhibition abroad. Full sponsorship. A career-making opportunity.
My hands trembled as I bent down and picked it up.
"You... made that deal so I'd paint for this?" I whispered.
"Does it matter now?" he asked flatly.
"Yes," I said. "Because if this is the truth... then what was last night? The candles. The flowers. The room."
He laughed once-short, humorless.
"I was just fucking with you," he said. " That's all."
He pointed to the door. "Now get out."
"But-"
He didn't let me finish.
He grabbed my wrist and walked me out without another word. In seconds, I was standing in the corridor. The door shut in my face.
I walked toward my room. Was what he said... real? Was he actually thinking about my career?
No.
It didn't matter now.
It couldn't matter now.
I reached my room and shut the door behind me, locking everything out-him, his words, the way they had slipped under my skin and refused to leave.
I went straight to the closet and pulled out a suitcase.
I needed to leave before anyone woke up. Before questions. Before guilt. Before my heart did something stupid like hoping.
Let's not think about what my heart isn't ready to accept, I told myself.
Let's focus on the one good thing.
I'll meet Bhai.
I'll finally see him.
That was enough. It had to be.
When I came here, I had nothing.
These clothes, this comfort-everything came from Yugant's money.
I packed them anyway.
At least this way, I'd carry something he paid for-not him, not his pity, not his unspoken intentions. Just fabric.
I threw dresses into the suitcase without folding. I was never a packing person-too impatient, too restless, too done for neat goodbyes.
Then I placed the file on top.
The reason I came here.
The reason I stayed.
The reason everything burned.
I zipped the suitcase shut.
And told myself-This is all that matters.
Even if my heart disagreed.
I just hoped I wouldn't have to face any more drama. That I'd finally get Bhai's address. That this nightmare would give me something solid in return.
I hoped tomorrow would bring more than just empty hope dressed up as courage.
And most of all-I hoped I wouldn't wake up regretting this decision of mine.