As the night settled and the mansion grew quiet, everyone retreated to their rooms, the day ending on a note of happiness.
Arnav sat on the bed, papers, and files scattered around him as he worked, his focus unwavering. He was deep in thought, reviewing the documents before him, his mind entirely absorbed.
Arthi quietly entered the room, her gaze immediately landing on him. Seeing him so engrossed in his work made her thoughts swirl with confusion. She slowly made her way to the bed, sitting on her side, ready to sleep but unable to shake the thoughts swirling in her mind. Her eyes drifted to his legs, and the image of him walking again played in her head.
He can walk, her mind whispered, blinking in disbelief. But how? Heâd mentioned treatment, but the suddenness of his recovery left her puzzled. How had he decided to walk so easily?
"Curiosity kills the cat, sweetheart," Arnavâs cold voice cut through the silence, startling her. His tone was sharp, though he hadnât lifted his eyes from his work.
Arthi blinked, caught off guard. "What happened?" he asked, glancing up briefly with a smirk, reading her unease like an open book. She stammered, trying to find her voice.
"I told you before, I was getting treatment. It finally worked," Arnav explained in an indifferent tone, still not looking up from his files. "Iâve been trying to walk long before you even got here. I was almost fully treated. The final tretment as left and now that also complete now, so I can walk." His voice was flat, as if the subject was trivial, his eyes never leaving the papers as he frowned in concentration.
"Donât overthink it, I already explained it" he added, glancing at her with a faint smile that made her blush.
"You have any more questions?" Arnav asked, his tone teasing, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, making her heart skip a beat.
"I.... I donât," Arthi replied meekly, her cheeks flushed.
Arnav sighed, but his gaze stayed fixed on her, assessing her reaction.
"I wasnât thinking about you suddenly walking," Arthi muttered, trying to divert the topic. "I was just thinking about something else," she added quickly, hoping to cover up her curiosity. Arnav raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing her.
"Well, then don't think" he said dryly, making her gulp and nod nervously.
His eyes glinted with mischief as his expression softened. "You were staring at my legs for quite some time," he remarked, his tone turning playful. "If Iâm not mistaken, maybe you want to sit on my lap?" His smirk deepened, and Arthiâs eyes widened in shock.
Before she could respond, he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a lower, huskier tone.
"Sweetheart, you couldâve just asked if you wanted. Iâd be more than happy to let you."Â His breath was warm against her face as he moved closer, his gaze locking onto hers.
"Iâm all yours to use," Arnav whispered, his smirk growing as his eyes stayed fixed on hers. Arthiâs heart raced, and in a desperate attempt to create some distance, she placed her hands on his chest, trying to push him away, her pulse hammering in her ears.
"I⦠I just⦠I want to sleep," she stammered, her voice shaky as she hurriedly lay down, turning her back to him. Her face flushed red, and she buried it into her pillow, trying to calm her rapid breathing.
Arnav leaned back, watching her with a victorious smirk. He returned to his work, satisfied with how easily he could fluster her, while Arthi struggled to steady her racing heart, still feeling the heat of his teasing words.
Abhimanyu was in his room, his jaw clenched as he stood by the window, the remnants of his earlier frustration still burning in his chest. The door creaked open, and Misha stepped in, her gaze immediately locking onto him with a sharp glare, but she approached nonetheless.
"You can have it," Misha said nonchalantly, holding out a piece of the sweet, her eyes deliberately looking away from him. Abhimanyu's already simmering anger flared. He didn't respond, his fiery gaze fixed on her. If she kept pushing, he wasnât sure how much longer he could control himself.
"I thought about not giving you any," she added carelessly, her voice laced with arrogance. "But since you did work on the project, I suppose you deserve a little." She tossed the words with a tone of indifference, completely ignoring the storm brewing in Abhimanyuâs eyes.
âYou should be grateful Iâm even offering you this,â Misha continued, her voice tinged with irritation, "especially after you showed that ridiculous arrogance dow-"
Before she could finish, Abhimanyuâs patience snapped. In an instant, he moved, pinning her harshly against the nearest wall. Misha gasped, startled, her heart leaping to her throat as he gripped her wrist firmly, forcing her to drop the sweet. His other hand held her right hand in an iron grip. His eyes bored into hers, ablaze with intensity, while Mishaâs widened in shock.
Her breath caught in her throat as Abhimanyu leaned in closer, his face just inches from hers.
"You talk too much, donât you?" His deep voice resonated in her ears, sending a tremor through her body. Her heart fluttered wildly at the commanding tone.
"What you did downstairs," he growled, his voice even deeper now, "was out of line. Talking back to me in front of everyone? Not a wise choice." He edged closer, his presence overwhelming her, making her stand frozen in place, unable to move.
"Youâve got guts to keep testing my patience."
His lips brushed her ear, sending shivers down her spine.
"You need to learn, sweetheart, that defying me wonât end well for you." His voice was a low rumble, almost a whisper, but it made her entire body tense. He pressed his lips against her ear, and her mind seemed to short-circuit, her thoughts dissolving into a chaotic blur.
Abhimanyu's lips traveled down to her neck, where he placed a firm kiss, sending her senses into overdrive. Misha stood paralyzed, her pulse racing, her body betraying her.
"I suggest you think twice before crossing me again," he murmured against her skin, his voice soft but chilling. His lips lingered for a moment before he pulled back, his gaze cold and unrelenting.
Misha remained rigid, her mind reeling from the sudden intensity of the moment. She looked like a statue, unable to process what had just happened. Abhimanyu, seeing her state, let out a smirk. He released her hand, but not before pulling it toward him and taking a bite of the small piece of the sweet she was holding, his eyes locked on hers.
The shock snapped her back to reality as she watched him stride away towards the bed. Her breath came in shallow bursts as she tried to gather herself. Anger quickly replaced her shock, and she turned, ready to confront him, but Abhimanyu's cold voice stopped her in her tracks.
"One more thing," he said, turning around just as she took a step forward. Misha froze, her anger fading into embarrassment as she waited for him to continue.
"My Dadi Ma thinks weâre the perfect couple," he stated with a blank expression, his tone devoid of any warmth. Misha frowned, confused by the sudden shift in conversation.
"I donât want her to know the truth. So from now on..." His gaze darkened, pinning her in place. "Weâre going to act like it. Youâll be the perfect wife in front of her. Understood?"
His tone left no room for argument, and just as Misha opened her mouth to protest, he cut her off.
"Iâm too tired to argue with you right now. Weâll finish this conversation in the morning," he said dismissively, turning his back to her and settling onto the bed. He stretched out, clearly unbothered, closing his eyes.
Misha stood there, seething with anger, her fists clenched tightly at her sides. She glared at his back, muttering curses under her breath, before finally moving to her side of the bed. As she lay down, her thoughts swirled with frustration, but exhaustion soon took over, and sleep eventually claimed her.
Ekansh slouched back on the sofa in his apartment alone, an empty bottle beside him, the bitter taste of alcohol lingering on his lips. A cigarette burned between his fingers, smoke curling lazily in the air. His thoughts drifted, unbidden, to Roohi and their tumultuous marriage. A wave of anger washed over him, intensifying with each passing moment. He hated her-at least, that's what he kept telling himself. Yet, beneath that seething anger, his heart whispered something else, a faint regret for leaving her alone that night. His mind fought back, convincing him he despised her, but deep down, the line between hate and regret blurred.