Chapter 15: 13) Thief

She was chaos or was she creating one? That was hard to differentiate.

Seeing her clothes, accessories, shoes, a heap of scripts, contract files, unwrapped makeup products, and whatnot lay around scattered all over his room. She was searching for something or messing up the place one could never bifurcate. His once-organized room looked hit by a tornado.

And, he could name it Uttara.

But the mess was not what irked him, it was the constant frown and constantly moving eyes that didn't rest for a moment. Her frantic search for her so-called treasure was annoying him and adding her ignorance to his presence.

Uttara, the girl he has been married to for the past 8 months had never ignored his presence in the apartment they together have grown to call home. The minute he would step in and all her attention was on Vidyut and what he does. She would fawn over him, wherever he goes, whatever he does, watch him, and initiate talks.

Somewhere he was used to her attention.

So much used that her ignorance felt like the death penalty.

His will to wait for her to notice his presence in their room shattered and he straightened from leaning against the wall. He threw his suit jacket in her sight and she threw it away like all her clothes which now lay more on the floor than they were in the closet. He glared at the back of her head and tried again placing his laptop bag in her way of rampage which soon lay upside near his pillow at the far end of the bag.

His glare froze on her face as he yanked her to face him.

"What crawled up your ass and died?" His words met widened eyes and gaping lips.

Her eyelashes moved fervently. "You...are back?"

"No, I am still on the way." He rolled his eyes.

Her lips puckered at the mocking and those beady eyes lost their search resting on his face. "I lost them."

"Who?" He frowned.

"My favorites. I am going to sue the maid." Her blabber met his squinted eyes which she royally ignored, again.

"Uttara." He called her name with an underlying warning to elaborate which her humming refused to catch. He sighed giving up. "You lost what?"

"I had them for 4 years, how could she misplace them?" She cried and his brows furrowed more. "I have checked everywhere but I can't find it. I need them, Vidyut."

"I am a doctor, not a mind reader, darling." He passed her a tight smile "You need to work out exactly what you are talking about for me to understand."

"You are so insensitive." She shrugged out of his hold and sat with a pout. Her eyes turned sad and he feared that the waterworks will be following her quickly. "I lost them and you are not helping me. Instead, you are making fun of me."

"I didn't mean to, Tara." He crouched infront of her and watched her wiping her eyes using an oversized t-shirt that looked a little too familiar to him. He forgot the next words to console her. "Is this mine?"

"Yes, so will you charge me for using it?" She was offended now, and pushing his forwarded palms away she sat in a fighting stance. "Or you want it back? Just say it. You earn so much but you are asking me to give you this T-shirt back? How could you?"

"I was just asking." He surrendered watching her glaring at him and he was scarred seeing those big amber eyes pouring fire out. "Can you tell me what is lost? I might help."

"My cotton shorts and the baby purple t-shirt." She mumbled with a crying face. "I lost them."

"Oh," Vidyut held back the urge to scowl at the mention of those scandalous shorts his wife paraded every alternative day in here in the name of comfort and a homey feel. "You have plenty of other clothes. You can wear anything or order another one."

"No, I want only them." She stated stubbornly.

He rolled his eyes discreetly and took a glance all over the place. "Did you check the laundry?"

"Yes."

"Your closet?"

"It is not there."

"Did you check mine?" He cocked a brow testing her.

"Yes...No!" Uttara averted her eyes. "How can I? I didn't."

"I see." He held her gaze for a second before the blush coated her cheeks, shaking his head. "You shouldn't lie to me."

"I...I only checked the cupboard. I didn't touch your drawers." She admitted guiltily.

"This is proof enough." He pinched the t-shirt fabric and smiled mockingly.

"Why are you so...so miser?" Uttara complained pushing his hands away and he lost his balance landing on his buttocks. "Shit! I am sorry."

Vidyut gave her a stink eye and stood up brushing his palms. He stepped back from her reach.

"I am sorry." She pouted scrambling to her feet.

"I need this place clean till I shower." He ordered and left behind without sparing her pouty face another glance. "You have 10 minutes, Uttara."

He heard her whine and stomping of the foot as he closed the door and shrugged off his clothes. Turning the shower knob, he let the steamy hot water fall on his skin.

Squirting some shower gel, he took more time than necessary to wash off his body and hair after a tiring day in the hospital.

Unfortunately, he had no surgeries and the continuous appointments had drained him. He liked surgeries more than the follow-up appointments where he had to make small talks with his patients, a task which was more complicated than studying the human heart. He could cut a human open and patch him back but smiling and acting cordial in their presence was not his cup of tea.

Leaning against the tiled wall, he waited for the hot water to cascade down him until the water turned cold. He turned the shower off and patted himself dry using a towel. He stood in front of the sink mirror and frowned at the unfamiliar towel in his hand. He glanced at the rack and the old white towels were now replaced by a set of pastels.

"Uttara." He gritted the name and closed his eyes shut, sighing he ignored the change and wore his bathrobe. Luckily, his grey bathrobe was untouched and neatly placed in its designated place. He wore the robe and tightened the belt around. Picking one of the same hand towels, he moved to the door towel drying his hair.

The knob clicked and he stepped out to find the room somewhat like the previous days. He could hear shuffling and stomping paired with whines and sighs. He bit his gums to stop his smile and walked towards the closet.

The door was left ajar.

He watched her standing on her dressing table seat and placing a box on the top shelf, feet raised to help her 5'4 height reach the empty space. She huffed loudly at the conclusion of the task and stepped down.

She placed the stool back in its place and looked up. Hands froze watching him lean against the frame.

Vidyut smirked at being noticed by her. He felt better for being noticed rather than being ignored for the second time in the day.

Her eyes were quick to take in his underdressed form and she dropped the concealer bottle she previously held to adjust on the vanity table. She swallowed averting her gaze and he stepped closer.

She inhaled sneakily and her cheeks flushed instantly. She pointed "It is mine."

"What is?" He frowned at the mention and cocked a brow for elaborating on her words. Decreasing the distance between them, he stood infront of her, arms folded as he waited.

"It...this..." She stuttered blushing as the proximity made her form incoherent sentences.

"Are you willing to speak?" He stepped closer and she scurried back, falling in the process. His arm shot towards her and grabbed her upper arm to stabilize her footing. His eyes fleeted towards the sharp edges of the vanity table and the space between the cabinets and rested back on her. "You could have slashed your arm open."

"Sorry." She pouted, trying to look behind when he pulled her away from the table.

"Stay." His command paired with what he deduced to be their closeness made her flush again and his eyes twitched in mirth.

She inhaled again and sighed. "You used my shower gel."

"So?" He probed.

She clamped her lips shut, formulating a reply and her eyes rested on his face. "So, nothing. I will not ask you to return it back. I am not you, Vidyut Chauhan."

"Really?" He was amused at her gathered confidence. He leaned near her, breath fanning her face. "If you want, I can pay you back, Uttara Chauhan."

"How?" The voice turned timorous.

"Depends." He murmured and watched her biting her lower lip. Flushed cheeks, hooded eyes, and those fuller lips awakened something in his heart. A swirling desire to claim the woman who was already his. He leaned near her neck and a thump traced a line on her arm to which she shivered in his hold.

"V-Vidyut..." Her voice reached his ears breaking the daze.

He stepped back from her, watching her breathing heavily. He couldn't stop the smugness from his tone. "I haven't even touched you and look at you."

She flushed harder standing with her head ducked down, her curtain bangs doing their job.

"Tamatar." He mumbled to himself and let the smile play on his face as he turned to face his closet. He pulled a t-shirt and sweats out.

Her eyes followed his movements stealthily and he turned towards her. Lifting her chin, he cocked a brow.

"Do you wanna watch the show?" He asked in amusement gesturing to himself.

She blinked in confusion and her lips parted to voice out the same.

"Your wish is my command." He shrugged cutting her non-existent words and held his belt knot.

If before, her eyes were large, this time they turned into saucers.

"What? No!" She pushed his torso and dashed out running with crimson cheeks and eyes clutched shut.

He broke into a fit of laughter that rumbled into his chest, he held onto his stomach, the clothes long forgotten as he slapped a hand on his thighs controlling the chuckles.

He let out an exhale, chuckling. Shaking his head, he dressed into the clothes and pulled his drawers, he eyed the content and locked it.

"You are never getting these back, Tara."

Strolling his way out, he stopped at a standstill finding a presence he had come to dislike.

Farhan stood inside his place, eyes on his wife and biting his gums as if she was his favorite candy and he couldn't wait to lag his hands on her.

Uttara was shaking her head at something he said when Vidyut made his presence known.

"We have a guest." Vidyut drawled, making his way towards them. He was proud of Uttara as she grimaced at his words.

Farhan was unwelcomed here and it seems Uttara was convinced of the same.

"I was telling him to leave." Uttara chipped gritting for her husband's ears who looked suddenly looked calm, unlike his regular untouchable cold self.

He hummed in response as he nodded in a greeting towards Farhan whose first clenched.

"Nitya said you want me working somewhere else. What have I done to you, Uttara?" He asked unfazed at the hints thrown at him to leave.

"I can refer you to a good neurologist for the partial amnesia symptoms you are facing, Farhan." Vidyut offered off-handedly.

"I have no symptoms, Dr. Chauhan." Farhan held back his sneer but the gritting of teeth amused Vidyut.

"Forgetting names is one of them." He pointed smugly. "Mrs. Chauhan, you seem to not remember that."

"I am sorry." He glared at the floor and schooled his irritation. "You cannot kick me out of your team, Mrs. Chauhan. I have done nothing to be punished."

Uttara hesitated glancing towards the men but gulped it down. "I will ask Nitya to give you a better pay and job. I am sorry but I'm not comfortable working together with you."

"But..."

"You can leave, I'll have a word with her." Uttara cut him off with finality.

Farhan sighed in defeat but shot a look toward Vidyut before retracting his way out of the door, slamming it close on his way.

"I am sorry on his behalf," Uttara mumbled distracted staring at the corner.

"What did he do?" Vidyut asked instead.

"Just some mistake." She tried waving them away. "I will go heat dinner for us. It was a long day."

She was passing him when an arm snaked around her waist and she was pulled back with force.

"What did he do, Tara?" He repeated, this time his voice dropped to a lower decibel fluttering her heart and mind, warning "Don't make me ask again."

"He..." She trailed wiggling against his hold.

"I'm listening."

"He tried..." She gulped watching his face morphing into anger.

"Tried what?" His jaw clenched.

"He tried to kiss me."

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Her face twitched with annoyance as the colors blinded her, ruffling her brain feathers and numbing her active cells, shoving them into an unavoidable sleep that she couldn't ignore. She felt like sleeping the days off until the day for Gala passed and she wasn't searched for.

Just why had she butted her head into that massive ego of hers and taken up the entire arrangements on her? She had wondered how difficult selecting colors, and decors, and managing a pestering event planner, and an irritating fiancé could be.

She was brutally proven wrong.

It wasn't difficult, it was impossible.

Hats off to Dhwani who has been doing all of this without a word. She had come to respect the girl for her managing and decision-making skills. She has to be a superwoman to do all of this exceptionally well.

Shreya took a headache pill and massaged her temple as the noise of laughter filtered through the glass cabin allotted to her, as a PR executive, she had to deal with constant emails, interview queries, published articles for the Chauhan family, mainly her dear best friend that seemed to be a media magnet, attracting paparazzi in the simplest tasks like driving his way to the office. Add managing a series of event invitations that his good-for-nothing secretory had messed up early morning today. Distributing his confirmation like sweets without his approval. Rakshit's calendar for the coming days was free for the evenings in accordance with the illegal races he was partaking in, but not that he could let anyone else know about them.

Shreya had to threaten the information out of the asshole in return for keeping his invitations active and leading to a PR scandal that she will be eventually clearing but it was enough for him to spill his agendas. Now, for the past hour, she was juggling between the event planner's pending mail who needed the theme by today afternoon, and the cancellation of his invitations with fake empathy and regret.

The day had just begun but she wanted to hibernate already.

Pressing her eyes, rubbing the confusion away, she picked two sample designs and compared them according to her mood. She finalized the one with darker shades of color scheme and white-crème color carnations.

Rest she will be begging Dhwani to take over.

If she had to apologize for her words, she will.

Shreya disliked Dhwani for her lack of self-respect for her own self but she marveled the woman's courage to handle a Chauhan brother for 2 years.

These brats were no piece of cake.

The laughter crashed against her eardrums again and she killed the urge to strode out and fire the incompetent asses of the employees of her floor.

She switched between screens and logged into Rakshit's security account, the credential lying in her brain like chocolates in her tote bag. She zoomed into the security camera and glared at the idiot girl standing in the middle of the circle passing balls randomly to the people.

She picked up her receiver and dialed the floor line. She watched one man picking the receiver.

"Pass the line to Nilima." She ordered before he could open his mouth to speak.

Soon the root cause of this fun Friday in the office came to the telephone.

"Hello? Nilima here."

"Wrap this if you love your job, Woman." Shreya gave the ultimatum and watched her frowning. "It is Shreya Thapar's line. I need the floor quiet and working in the next 3 minutes."

"But, ma'am..."

"Time starts now."

The call dropped and she could see people shuffling back to their desks almost immediately, more than 3 minutes yet they were quiet and back working. She did feel bad for cutting off their fun but the feeling of envy towards them made her take the step, if she was working her ass off, she wanted them to do what they were paid for.

She was a bitch and sometimes showing that side hurt none.

Enjoying the silence, she put on her computer glasses and started typing the set of instructions for the media outlets that will be joining them in the Gala in the next two days.

Next was the statement that will be going up for the impending engagement and the new product launch planned on the very day.

Ignoring any notifications, emails, and incoming calls she had her head dipped into the mails and prototype of the questions Chauhan wanted the media to ask.

Nothing right nor left.

The world was snoozed to silence until a loud knock was followed by the slamming of the door being opened.

Her eyes flickered into a quick glare as the face she least wanted to see popped into her sanctuary as if he owned the world.

Well, he fucking owned this place and everything she lay her eyes around.

"What do you need now?" She let the annoyance drip in her words as his smirk met hers.

"Your attention, meri jaan." He plopped down on the seat opposite to hers, his beguiling smile intact.

That man was a poisonous scorpion in all senses.

Charming, manipulative, and hard to decipher. He holds the venomous sting, striking when it is least expected, targeting confusion and lack of preparation in his targets.

Like her.

"Get lost." She rolled her eyes and placed the glasses back, glancing at the time.

It was past lunch, not that she was planning to have any.

"Nope," He shook his head with an amused grin, "You won't be able to find me again."

"What the fuck do you need?" She groaned at his bright, over-excited face, holding herself back from hitting him with the glass paperweight.

"The board meeting starts at 10. I need you to get me this right." He answered and passed her a tie.

"That doesn't match." She pointed with a twist of her lips.

"No options there, neither I have time left, Ms. Fashionista." He threw the piece of cloth on her, hitting her square on her face.

Shooting him a nasty glare, she stood up from her place and walked towards the filing cabinet. One wear she stored spare clothing articles for the man she was babysitting for years more than she had known herself for.

"You are wasting my time." Rakshit shot from behind.

She picked the two and compared them to his light blue shirt and grey blazer, choosing another one.

"Like you haven't wasted mine ever." Scoffing, she retraced back to him and jutted her chin to make space for her.

She placed herself against the wooden desk and pulled him closer. Circling the tie around his cheek, she watched him with an evil smile.

"How I wish to choke you right here with this?" Her words faltered as the palms climbed up her knees, leaving goosebumps behind her pant fabric in its wake, feeling them squeezing her thighs, she gritted his name in warning. "Rakshit"

"Didn't know you had this kink, darling." His nefarious smirk would be her undoing. His hands moved upward and settled on her waist, pulling himself closer to her, he closed the gap between them. "Make it quick, meri jaan."

With a tight smile, she tightened the knot on his collar making him wince at the hold.

"Don't kill me just yet." He held her wrist, loosening them around his neck, and grumbled. "You will be a widow before marriage."

"Aren't you late now?" She rolled her eyes and wiggled her wrist away, shoving his fingers out as she adjusted his tie, lowering the collar, eyes narrowing at a mark that caught her attention and froze her movements. Words stuck in her throat. "What is that?"

"What?" He frowned adjusting his shirt using the reflection on her laptop screen.

Shreya's insides turned into ice as the realization flunked its way to her. Fingers clutched the wooden desk as she averted her gaze away from him. His mere sight brought bile rush through her mouth yet she managed a question "Who was she?"

"The ghost behind you? How will I know?" Rakshit snickered taking a final once over at him. "I look presentable, thank you."

"Was it good? Did you enjoy your time?" She snared ignoring his words.

"What enjoy? It tired me out. I was on it for more time than necessary." Rakshit huffed, rolling his eyes. The air of casualness around him brought a shiver of disgust across her.

"Get out." She gritted.

"I wouldn't stay even if you ask me to." Rakshit was halfway to the door when the paperweight hit the wall and crashed into a million pieces. He flinched at the sound and spun flabbergasted, eyes glaring at her. He accused. "I would have died."

"It was meant to kill you." She sneered loudly, throwing another box file at him. "You scoundrel! Bastard."

"What did I do?" He gaped, but watching her burning with anger he thought of pacifying her.

"Are you acting oblivious now, Chauhan?"

"Shreya, listen to me." Rakshit stepped closer to her, shaking his head in denial. "What is this about?"

She flinched away from his touch. "Get. out."

"Listen to me." He snapped, yanking her arm, and whirled her to face him. "Why are you acting like this? At least tell me what did I do?"

"You want me to spell it out for you?" She asked in disbelief. "Oh god! How much of an asshat you could be?"

"I am lost here." He whispered cluelessly.

"Fine!" She declared wiping her face and exhaling loudly, she yanked him with his shirt, ruffling the material in her tight fist, and she pulled him towards the washroom where the mirror reflected them back. "Look at you or should I say the signs of your tiredness."

"You ruined my shirt..." Rakshit's confused glare dropped at her line of sight as he grimaced. The purplish blotch on his neck stared back at him bringing in the moment of deed from two hours back. "It is pretty bad, isn't it?"

"I am an idiot. Am I not?" She scoffed glaring at their reflection and looking away running out of the cramped space.

"Shreya. Wait!" He ran behind her and stood watching her throwing anything and everything in her bag, smacking her harsh glares on her innocent bag. He winced as the ceramic coaster rolled down and broke.

Frowning at her weird outburst, he stepped closer and tried pulling her towards him.

"You are making a big deal out of this. I am fine." He tried cajoling her.

"No, it shouldn't be right?" Shreya sneered, shrugging his hold away with a force that knocked him into the desk. "Nothing is a big deal for you, Rakshit Chauhan. I forgot that."

He hissed but bit back as she glared at him. "If you are so worried, apply some medicines but look at you, hurting me again."

"Y...you want me to..." She blinked in disbelief, recoiling at his audacity.

How did she wish to strangle him for displaying that hickey to her and expecting her to conceal it?

How dare he?

Shaking her head at his words, she collected her things and dashed out, unable to breathe in the same space as him. Reaching the door, she felt tears burning her eyes at the hurt encompassing her.

She twisted the knob and glanced at his skeptical self. "I wish I never met you, Rakshit."

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