DIVYA
As I stepped out of the room, a heavy sigh escaped my lips. The sight of the maids hauling boxes through the hallway made my chest tighten. Every box held clothes Raghav had bought for meâlavish, expensive clothes he claimed were meant for me but now would either be thrown out or sent back to my house.
It felt wasteful, the kind of extravagance I could never understand. Even as a millionaire myself, Iâd never had the heart to throw away money like that. In the end, I decided to take the clothes with me. Maybe they'd serve some purpose someday, though they were a glaring symbol of excess.
I heaved another sigh, my gaze wandering to the left, toward Raghavâs room. I couldnât believe it had come to thisâleaving so soon after becoming so attached to this place, to the people who lived here. There was an ache in my chest I didnât expect, a reluctance to return to my old life. Yet, I had no choice. I had to go back.
Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself. I needed to say goodbye to him before I left. This would likely be the last time I saw Raghav. Who knew when, or if, weâd ever cross paths again?
I walked down the hall toward his room, my heart pounding in my chest. The door was ajar, and I could hear him talking on the phone, his back turned to me. Even though the door was open, I knocked gently, not wanting to intrude the way I had once before. He was on the phone, his back turned to me, the rich tone of his voice filling the room. He turned at the sound, his phone call ending as soon as he saw me.
Clearing my throat, I spoke, my voice small. "Iâm leaving."
He hummed in acknowledgment, but his eyes remained fixed on mine. For a moment, I just stood there, taking in the sight of him. He looked effortlessly handsome, his face clean-shaven, the black suit perfectly tailored to his tall frame. There was something about him in blackâit made him look even more striking.
When his eyebrows quirked up in question, I realized Iâd been caught staring. Again. Heat rushed to my cheeks. I stammered, "Thanks⦠for everything."
He didnât respond, just watching me with that unreadable expression of his. I forced a small smile and turned to leave, trying to hide my embarrassment.
"Divyaâ¦" His voice, low and smooth, rolled over me like a melody, freezing me in place. I spun around, my heart racing, unable to hide the hope in my eyes.
"Donât be alarmed if you notice someone following you or keeping an eye on you," he said, his tone serious. "Theyâll be my men, for your protection."
I blinked, startled. "Why?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
"My fatherâs still out there," he explained, his expression darkening. "He might try to harm you. This is to make sure that doesnât happen."
There was no room for argument in his tone, and I found myself nodding before I could protest. "Okay⦠but, Raghavâ¦" I hesitated, searching for the right words. "Please, stop wasting so much money."
His brows furrowed, confusion flickering across his face. "What do you mean?"
I gestured toward the boxes downstairs. "The dresses⦠all those expensive clothes you bought for me. I donât need so many, and it feels wasteful. You could use that money to help someone who really needs it. Do charity, maybeâ"
He cut me off before I could finish. "Itâs my money, Divya, and Iâll use it how I see fit." His voice softened, and I saw something vulnerable in his gaze that I hadnât noticed before. "And donât think so little of yourself. I never waste money on you. Your happiness is priceless."
His words caught me off guard, my heart swelling in a way I didnât expect. No one had ever said that to me before. For as long as I could remember, my parents had always put money first, valuing their fortune above my happiness or that of my siblings. But here was Raghav, a man who could have anything, telling me that my joy meant more to him than wealth. I didnât know how to process that.
He moved closer, his eyes never leaving mine, and gently raised his hand to my cheek. His touch was warm, his thumb softly grazing my skin, sending shivers down my spine. My breath hitched as I felt the gentle weight of his hand, the care in his gesture.
"Take care of yourself," he murmured. "And please, try to stay out of trouble."
I nodded, my voice caught in my throat. For a moment, I debated what to do, feeling an overwhelming urge to say something more, to make him understand just how much his words had moved me. Instead, without thinking, I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug.
I felt him stiffen, clearly taken aback by the sudden embrace, but after a beat, his body relaxed against mine. I held him for what felt like an eternity before whispering, "Goodbye."
Before he could respond, I pulled away, my heart racing, and rushed out of the room without daring to look back. My cheeks burned with embarrassment. Did I really just hug him, of all people? The ruthless man Iâd been so afraid of?
I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts, and made my way downstairs, my heart still pounding in my chest.
I found Aunty Nandini in the living room, and without a second thought, I wrapped her in a tight hug. "I'm going to miss you so much, Aunty," I murmured into her shoulder, trying to hold back the emotions bubbling inside me.
She chuckled softly, her warmth easing my sadness. "Iâll miss you too, sweetheart," she replied, patting my back affectionately.
As I broke the hug, she gently cupped my face, her eyes twinkling with a fondness that made my chest ache. "You can visit me whenever you want, and donât you dare forget this old lady," she teased.
I laughed, shaking my head. "Old? Who? Youâre my young, beautiful Aunty Nandini."
She smiled warmly at my words and then handed me a small box. "These are your favorite motichoor ladoos."
The child inside me leaped with joy at the mere mention of the sweet treat. "Thank you so much!" I exclaimed, my excitement bubbling over.
Aunt Nandini laughed softly at my reaction, and for a brief moment, everything felt light and easy. But that moment was quickly shattered when a shift in the room's energy sent a chill down my spine. A dangerous aura filled the air. I turned my head just in time to see Arctic, the majestic white tiger, padding gracefully into the room.
Sadness washed over me as I watched him approach. I was really going to miss him, miss this place, miss everything. But at least I had Aunt Nandiniâs promise that I could visit whenever I wanted. That thought comforted me, though I knew once I returned to my busy life, finding time would be difficult. Raghavâs mansion was on the outskirts of the city, nearly an hour away.
Arctic stopped a few inches away, staring up at me with those intense eyes, as if silently pleading for me not to leave. My heart twisted. I crouched down in front of him, reaching out to run my hand along his soft fur. "Oh, my big boy," I whispered. He leaned into my touch, his eyes closing in satisfaction as a low, contented growl escaped his throat.
I chuckled at his reaction, finding it hard to believe how much things had changed. Only yesterday, I had been terrified of him. Now, here I was, petting him like he was nothing more than an oversized, gentle cat. I wasnât sure what possessed me, but I leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his forehead.
He blinked up at me, his gaze full of affection. I laughed quietly to myself, shaking my head at the absurdity of it all. Treating this powerful, fearsome creature like a house cat. But there was something about him, something that made it impossible not to love him.
"Iâll see you soon," I whispered, standing up reluctantly. Arctic let out another soft growl, but I knew I had to leave.
I waved at Aunt Nandini one last time, offering her a sad smile as I walked out of the house, the weight of the goodbyes pressing on my heart.
As I stepped outside, I spotted Julius waiting by the car. Raghavâs driver, just as cold and aloof as his boss, stood stiffly, his gaze unreadable. When he saw me approach, he moved quickly to open the passenger door, saying nothing. I slid into the seat, and without a word, Julius started the engine, driving me away from the mansion and the life I was leaving behind.
The hour-long drive passed in silence, the weight of the day settling heavily on my shoulders. When we finally arrived at my apartment, I sighed as I opened the door, only to find the boxes from the mansion stacked neatly in my living room. The sheer number of them made my head spin. It would probably take me a week just to unpack everything.
Feeling drained, I sank into the sofa, leaning back as my eyes drifted to the clock. It was already noon. A sigh slipped from my lips againâthis wasnât how I wanted to spend my day.
I decided I needed to shake off the weight of this morning. Staying at home doing nothing would only let my thoughts fester. My art gallery. That would be the perfect distraction.
With a renewed sense of purpose, I pushed myself off the sofa and headed to my room to change. After searching through my wardrobe, I settled on a light yellow collared dress with a thin belt, something simple but elegant. I paired it with matching yellow flats and tied my hair into a loose, low ponytail.
Grabbing my white Saint Laurent sling bag, I slipped my phone, house keys, and a bit of cash inside before heading out the door.
I reached the art gallery, parking my car in the nearly empty lot before stepping out with a sense of anticipation bubbling inside me. It was a weekday, so only a few people were strolling through the gallery halls, their soft whispers barely audible. As soon as Nancy spotted me, her face lit up, and she rushed over, her excitement palpable.
"Ma'am! Youâre here! You should have told me you were visiting today!" she exclaimed.
I couldnât help but giggle at her enthusiasm. "It's alright. I was just bored and decided to stop by," I said with a smile.
Nancy beamed and pulled me into a tight hug. "Glad to have you back," she whispered, her voice full of warmth.
I smiled back and made my way to my office, grateful to have someone like Nancy who managed everything so seamlessly in my absence. The moment I opened the door, I was greeted by the familiar sight of flowersâlilies, my favoriteâspread across the coffee table. Some were wilting, their petals slightly curled, but they were still beautiful in their own way. A cluster of cards was nestled among them, each with a handwritten note, just as Iâd come to expect.
"I didnât throw them out. I thought youâd like to see them," Nancyâs voice echoed from the hallway, and I laughed softly.
I walked over to the flowers, pulling out todayâs card. My fingers lightly traced the words, but as I read them, the smile on my face vanished, replaced by a cold chill that crept down my spine.
'Today you look beautiful and stunning in that yellow dress. Just always shine brightly like these.'
My heart skipped a beat. I glanced down at the light yellow dress I was wearing, my hands trembling. How? How did this person know what I was wearing today? Panic surged through me as the realization hitâsomeone was watching me, following me, observing my every move.
My breath quickened, my mind spinning. Stalking. That was the only explanation. I felt exposed, vulnerable, as if a pair of invisible eyes had been on me all day. The lilies, once a sweet gesture
I arrived at the art gallery, parking my car and stepping out with a lightheartedness that only comes from being in a place you love. The gallery was quiet, with only a few visitors wandering through the exhibitsâit was a weekday, after all. As soon as Nancy spotted me, she rushed over, her face lighting up.
"Ma'am, you're here! You should have told me you were visiting today!" she said, practically bouncing on her feet.
I giggled at her enthusiasm. "Itâs alright. I was just feeling bored, so I decided to stop by," I explained.
She nodded and wrapped me in a warm hug. "Iâm glad to have you back," she whispered, her sincerity touching me.
With a smile, I headed toward my office, feeling grateful for having someone like Nancy who could handle everything so well in my absence. As I entered the office, a familiar sight greeted meâbunches of lilies were carefully arranged on the coffee table. Some had begun to wilt, but they were still beautiful, a bittersweet touch of elegance in the room. As always, each bouquet had a small card attached with a handwritten message.
"I didnât throw them out. I thought youâd want to see them," Nancy called from the hall, her voice filled with cheer.
I laughed softly at her thoughtfulness and plucked todayâs card from the newest arrangement. My fingers glided over the paper, but the moment I read the words, the warmth in my chest turned to ice.
'Today you look beautiful and stunning in that yellow dress. Always shine as brightly as these.'
The smile on my face faltered, my hands trembling as I stared down at the card in disbelief. My breath caught in my throat, and I instinctively looked down at my outfitâthe light yellow dress I had chosen this morning. How could someone possibly know what I was wearing today? There was only one explanation: I was being watched.
A wave of terror washed over me. Just moments ago, I had been excited to read the note, but now I wanted nothing more than to burn it, to erase every trace of it. My body trembled with fear, and my mind raced, trying to make sense of it all.
A sudden knock on the door followed by heavy footsteps startled me, and the card slipped from my hand, fluttering to the floor like a forgotten secret.
"Maâam, these just came in the mail," Nancy announced as she placed a stack of envelopes on the table, oblivious to my inner turmoil.
I forced a smile, trying to keep my hands steady as I slid them into the pockets of my dress, hiding the trembling that threatened to give away my fear. "Thank you, Nancy," I said, my voice calmer than I felt.
"Oh, and congratulations on acquiring the plot in Boston!" she added before leaving the room.
I let out a long, shaky breath as she left, my eyes drifting to the pile of mail. Among the ordinary-looking envelopes, one caught my attentionâa golden envelope with a red seal. Curiosity overtook my unease, and I quickly picked it up, breaking the seal and pulling out a matte invitation card. My heart raced as I read the contents.
It was an invitation from the National Academy of Design and Arts, inviting me to their award ceremony next week. I had been nominated for the New York Canvas Award, one of the most prestigious honors an artist could dream of.
"Oh my God!" I exclaimed, my voice filled with disbelief and excitement. The fear that had gripped me moments ago melted away, replaced by overwhelming joy. The invitation felt like validation, proof that all my hard work had paid off.
I hugged the card to my chest, the white paper from the ominous note still lying forgotten on the floor. In this moment, all I could feel was pride and happiness. This was a milestone, a chance to prove to my parentsâand to myselfâthat I was capable of achieving great things on my own. I didnât need their support or approval.
I was enough.
The words echoed in my mind, a quiet but powerful truth I hadn't realized until now. For the first time, I felt it deep in my bonesâI was enough.