Chapter 38: Thirty Four

Ekansh sat between his brothers, his head throbbing with the aftermath of last night’s drinking. Abhimanyu was focused on his laptop, fingers tapping away without a glance in his direction, while Arnav was buried in some documents, ignoring the whole situation. But Aavyan-he’d been staring at Ekansh for what felt like forever, a grin plastered on his face, clearly enjoying whatever was brewing in his head.

Finally, Ekansh couldn’t take it anymore. His patience snapped.

"What the hell’s wrong with you? Why are you staring at me like that?" His voice was laced with irritation, sharp enough to cut through the room's silence.

Aavyan raised an eyebrow, his grin only widening. "You really don’t know?" His tone dripped with amusement.

Ekansh groaned, leaning back into the sofa with a sigh. His head throbbed even more, and dealing with Aavyan’s nonsense was the last thing he needed.

"Do you want me to lose my temper? Because you're asking for it." His voice carried a warning edge as he closed his eyes, trying to block out the situation. "I’m tired. I’ve got a headache. So unless you want me to kick you out of here, back off."

Aavyan chuckled, completely unbothered by Ekansh’s growing frustration. He leaned forward, lowering his voice just enough to catch Ekansh off guard. "You’re married, right?"

Ekansh’s eyes flew open. Shock registered in his features as he sat up straight. "What?" His voice shot up in disbelief, almost echoing across the room.

Even Abhimanyu and Arnav looked up from their work, frowning slightly, their curiosity piqued by Aavyan’s bold statement. Aavyan, however, remained completely composed, that infuriating smirk never leaving his face.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Ekansh snapped, his tone harsher now. "Do you have any idea what you’re saying?"

Aavyan’s eyes narrowed slightly, still filled with amusement.

"Oh, I have a very clear idea. You’re the one who said it. Last night. You told me you were married." His grin widened, mocking Ekansh’s panic.

Ekansh froze, his mind racing. Had he really said that? He was still trying to piece together the fragmented memories of last night. His nerves tightened as he struggled to remember if he’d let anything slip during his drunken state.

"Bhai," Aavyan continued, his voice suddenly taking on a wounded, exaggerated tone. "How could you hide this from me? Me, your lovely brother?"

Ekansh's nerves tensed further. "Shut up, Aavyan." His jaw clenched as he shot his brother a glare, trying to mask the rising panic within him.

Aavyan leaned back, clearly enjoying himself.

"Come on, Bhai. Admit it. Are you really married? The nation must know!" He threw his arms dramatically in the air, drawing out every word like he was on stage.

Ekansh clenched his fists, his annoyance flaring into something darker.

"Why the hell would I be married when I despise the whole concept?" His voice was cold, and his jaw tightened at the memory of his disastrous relationship. His hands fisted involuntarily, remembering the moment he walked away.

Aavyan chuckled softly, completely unfazed. "Oh, really? Because last night you were so emotional about your marriage," he teased, grinning widely.

Ekansh’s frustration spiked as he rubbed his temples, the headache throbbing harder now. He couldn’t even lash out at Aavyan without making things worse.

"You know how he is when he’s drunk," Abhimanyu finally chimed in, his voice calm but firm, cutting through the tension. "Leave it, Aavyan. It’s not worth a fight."

Arnav, sitting quietly until now, snorted softly.

"He acts like an idiot when he drinks anyway," he muttered under his breath, though the slight smirk on his face betrayed his amusement.

"Enough of this," Abhimanyu said, standing up and turning the conversation back to their business. His presence commanded the room, instantly shifting the atmosphere.

"You all know about the project. Get to work." He shot a final glance at his brothers before leaving, his footsteps echoing down the hall.

Ekansh sighed in relief, thinking the conversation was finally over. But Aavyan wasn’t done.

Leaning close to Ekansh’s ear, he whispered,

"Bhai... you said you left your wife in the middle of the road last night." Aavyan smirked when Ekansh’s expression hardened, the anger clearly flaring behind his eyes. "And you were ready to go back and bring her home."

The memory of her face, hurt and naive, flashed before Ekansh’s mind. His fists clenched tighter, guilt and frustration swirling inside him. That was a mistake. He shouldn’t have left her like that. But his mind and ego not ready to understand that.

Aavyan’s grin widened, sensing the turmoil in Ekansh.

"You really are a terrible husband," he continued, his tone half-joking, half-serious.

"Who leaves their wife stranded in the middle of nowhere? If you go back, she’ll probably slap you. Twice."

Ekansh’s teeth clenched painfully as he shot Aavyan a deadly glare.

"Do you want to be thrown out of the mansion?" His voice was low, cold, and full of warning.

Aavyan raised his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay, I’m done,” he said, stepping back with a grin. But as he turned to leave, he threw one last parting shot over his shoulder.

"Just saying, Bhai. Get ready for some major groveling when you go back."

Before Ekansh could respond, Aavyan darted out of the room, laughing, and Arnav, shaking his head, stood up.

"He’s right, you know. She’ll probably add a few extra slaps for good measure," he said with a smug grin before walking away. Teasing Ekansh is really fun for them mostly, Aavyan who always know how to irritate him, and Arnav who knows how to make him angry. But what they don't know is, a lie they thought just a coincidence because Ekansh was drunk is actually the truth.

Ekansh’s patience finally snapped. "Damn it!" he cursed, storming out of the mansion. The frustration boiling over inside him was unbearable. He barely registered getting into his car before he slammed his foot on the gas, driving with reckless speed.

As the wind whipped through the open windows, the only thing on his mind was the mess he’d made-and how much worse it could get when his family knows about his marriage.

Abhimanyu walked into the room and spotted Misha sitting on the bed, scrolling through her phone with a slight pout on her lips. He glanced at her briefly, then continued getting ready for the office. Misha didn’t budge, still focused on her phone, even as he buttoned up his coat and cleared his throat to get her attention. She didn’t look up.

Just then, Isha burst into the room with her usual energy.

"Bhaaiiii!" she called out cheerfully, her voice filled with excitement. Abhimanyu glanced at her, and Misha, hearing her, put her phone aside and stood up.

"Bhabhi, hi! And good morning, Bhai!" Isha greeted them with her charming smile, always so full of life. Abhimanyu chuckled at his sister’s spirited nature.

"What’s so important that Miss Isha Rathore is gracing us with her presence this early?" Abhimanyu teased, his lips curling into a playful smile.

Isha pouted, looking up at him with mock offense. "You don’t know?" she asked, feigning disbelief.

Abhimanyu frowned, trying to recall if he had missed something significant.

"Is there something I should remember?" he asked, confused. Misha also looked puzzled as she watched the exchange.

Isha’s eyes widened in exaggerated shock.

"What do you mean ‘important’? It’s very important!" she said dramatically, her hands flying up as if she couldn’t believe they’d forgotten.

Abhimanyu sighed, used to her theatrics.

"Isha, just get to the point," he said with a tired smile.

Isha grinned nervously before announcing,

"Dad’s organizing a big business party to celebrate the fact that all of you won every deal this year!" She bounced on her feet, clearly excited, while Misha raised an eyebrow in surprise. Abhimanyu, however, remained cold and unbothered.

"And... I need to go shopping!" Isha added, her voice turning into a sweet, hopeful tone.

Abhimanyu sighed knowingly, realizing why she was there. Misha, on the other hand, couldn’t help but smile at the familiar scene unfolding in front of her.

"You’re taking me shopping, right, Bhai?"  Isha asked, her eyes sparkling with hope as she waited for his response.

Abhimanyu pretended to think, his fingers tapping on his chin dramatically. "I don’t think I can, dear," he said, putting on a disappointed face.

Misha rolled her eyes, unimpressed. "Of course. Always the one to steal everyone’s joy, Mr. Ice," she muttered under her breath.

Isha’s face fell, her excitement dimming. "It’s not like I can’t go alone," she murmured, "but I wanted to go with you."

Sensing her disappointment, Abhimanyu softened.

"Are you really upset, beta? You know I have work to do," he said, guilt creeping into his voice.

Isha nodded, her shoulders slumping as she turned to leave.

"We can go in the afternoon. I just have a meeting to attend first," Abhimanyu added casually.

Isha’s mood instantly shifted. She spun around and rushed toward him, her face lighting up.

"Really? You mean it?" she cried, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug. In her excitement, she didn’t even realize who she had hugged. Misha, startled by the sudden affection, stood frozen, wide-eyed.

"Bhai, you’re the best! Thank you so much!" Isha exclaimed, still clinging to her.

Abhimanyu raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "That’s... not me, Isha," he said in his usual cold tone.

Realizing she was hugging Misha instead of her brother, Isha giggled nervously, pulling back.

"Oops, sorry, Bhabhi," she apologized sheepishly before quickly wrapping her arms around Abhimanyu properly this time.

He patted her head with a faint smile, amused.

"You’re always like this, huh?" he muttered, fondly remembering how his sister’s boundless energy never failed to fill their home with warmth.

Arnav stood in front of Arthi, setting his shirt cuffs as his eyes drifted to Arthi, who was engrossed in her work, probably preparing for the party. A smirk played on his handsome face.

"Sweetheart," Arnav called out in a low, teasing tone. He glanced at his watch, his lips curling with amusement as Arthi, seated on the couch, frowned, looking up from the menu she was creating for the evening.

"Hmm?" she responded with a confused look.

"My coat. Where is it?" Arnav asked with a sigh, his eyes scanning the room.

Arthi frowned again, momentarily puzzled. She had left it on the bed, hadn’t she?

"Oh! I must have forgotten. Wait, let me get it," she replied hurriedly, standing up and heading toward the closet. Arnav watched her, his hands casually slipping into his pockets as he waited.

A moment later, Arthi returned, holding his coat in front of him.

"Here it is," she said, looking up at him.

Arnav spread his arms. "Help me wear it, sweetheart," he said, his voice deep and commanding.

Arthi blinked, caught off guard, but nodded and moved closer to help him slip on the coat. As she adjusted it over his shoulders, Arnav studied her, waiting for any reaction to his proximity, but she seemed unaffected. A faint smile tugged at his lips.

"What are you thinking about? Hurry up and wear your coat! I have so much work to do," Arthi muttered in frustration, noticing how long he had been standing still. Her irritated tone made Arnav raise an eyebrow in surprise. She looked almost cute, flushed with irritation as she juggled her tasks for the party, having to manage everything since Misha had stepped out.

Taken aback by her sharp tone, Arnav smirked. It wasn’t often someone spoke to him like this, let alone his wife. To his own surprise, he wasn’t angry-he found it impressive.

Without another word, he shrugged the coat on, assisted by Arthi, who still looked irritated, her focus elsewhere as she was mentally ticking off her to-do list.

As she turned to leave, Arnav moved swiftly, grabbing her waist and pulling her against him with a firm tug. Arthi gasped, her eyes widening as she collided with his chest. She looked up at him, her breath catching.

"You look beautiful when you’re angry, sweetheart," Arnav murmured, his voice husky as his eyes locked on hers. His smirk deepened as he observed her surprise. No one had ever dared raise their voice to him before, but here she was, scolding him-and he liked it.

Leaning closer, he whispered against her ear,

"You should get angry more often." His lips brushed her forehead in a soft kiss before trailing down to her cheek and along her jawline, lingering just enough to make her grip his coat tightly in her fists.

Arnav’s hand moved in slow, lazy circles on her back, his touch sending shivers through her as her heart raced. His lips found her neck, leaving a trail of soft kisses that made her pulse quicken, the unfamiliar heat swirling inside her making her cling to him even more tightly. The sensation was overwhelming, twisting her insides in a way she had never experienced before.

"I don’t mind when you’re angry with me," Arnav whispered against her skin, his breath hot near her neck. "It turns me on."

Arthi’s breath hitched, her body reacting to every touch as his lips moved lower to her collarbone, placing open-mouthed kisses along the way. She bit her lip, trying to control her rising heartbeat as her hands fisted his coat even tighter.

Arnav smirked, his eyes watching her closely as he kissed along her jawline, his lips dangerously close to hers. She held her breath, her eyes fluttering closed, but just when she expected him to kiss her lips, he paused and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead instead.

Arthi opened her eyes, her cheeks flushed red, her hand still clutching his coat. Her shyness only made Arnav smile.

"Sweetheart," he whispered, his voice deep and teasing, making Arthi to gulp down in nervousness.

Arthi gazed up at him through shy lashes, her cheeks flushing a soft red, her fingers still gripping his coat tightly.

"Sweetheart," Arnav murmured in a husky tone, his eyes dark with amusement, "this is what I expect every time I talk to you-a blush." Last word came like a cold,  it's more like a asking and a hint of an command in it

She turned her face away, unable to meet his gaze, which only made him chuckle softly.

"Though," he added with a smirk, "you do look adorable when you're angry too."

Arnav sighed, glancing at her with a hint of reluctance. "I should leave now."

Her expression faltered, a small frown forming as she realized her hand was still clutching his coat. Noticing, Arnav’s gaze dropped to her fingers. Embarrassed, Arthi quickly released her grip, her hands falling to her sides.

Arnav sighed once more before turning to leave, stealing one last glance at her before walking away.

Arthi let out a heavy breath, collapsing onto the couch with a pout. Her hands covered her face as the blush only deepened, the memory of their exchange replaying in her mind, causing the heat in her cheeks to grow even more intense.

Isha stepped out of the mansion, her heart fluttering with excitement. Abhimanyu had mentioned they’d go shopping that afternoon, and the time had finally come. She made her way to the car, anticipation bubbling inside her, and began the drive toward Rathore Empire where she was supposed to meet him.

After a while, she arrived at the towering building, her excitement barely contained as she parked in the underground lot. Just as she was about to head inside, she noticed a nearby store. Feeling the sudden urge to quench her thirst, she decided to grab a lemonade. She quickly made her way to the shop, bought her drink, and strolled back to the parking lot, sipping it happily as she imagined the fun afternoon ahead.

But before she could take another step, she was abruptly jolted. A man, walking with such intensity, crashed right into her, causing her lemonade to spill onto the ground.

Isha gasped, her hand flying up in disbelief as she stared at the puddle forming at her feet. Frustration flickered in her eyes as she looked up at the man who had covered most of his face with a hat. She sighed, trying to hold back her irritation.

"Can't you watch where you're going?" she asked, her tone calm but laced with irritation. She wasn’t in the mood to argue, but the situation tested her patience.

The man barely glanced at her, his voice casual as he muttered, "I’m sorry."

Isha narrowed her eyes, not satisfied with his indifferent apology. Crossing her arms, she raised an eyebrow.

"Aapka sorry ka kya mein achar daaloon?"

The man blinked, clearly confused. "Excuse me?"

"Aapka sorry ko kya mein achar laga sakti hoon" Isha said with sarcastic tone her expression one of irritated.

"Can I make a pickle out of your sorry?" she repeated, her voice dripping with sarcasm, her expression sharp.

The man frowned, still bewildered by her words. "You can’t."

"Exactly," she snapped. "So what good is your sorry?"

The man sighed, looking both impatient and confused.

"I really don’t have time for this, and honestly, I don’t even understand what you’re talking about."

Isha rolled her eyes, frustration building.

"Then least you could do is buy me another lemonade since you just wasted mine."

The man hesitated for a moment, clearly taken aback.

"If you want... I can buy you another one," he said slowly, clearly thinking she was being unreasonable.

"Yes, I want you to," she responded firmly, gesturing for him to follow her back to the store. The man reluctantly nodded, and they walked back together.

Inside the store, Isha bought not just one but two lemonades-and a cola. The man, who had remained silent during the process, watched with growing confusion. Once they left the shop, he finally spoke up.

"You bought two lemonades... and a cola?" he asked, his tone hesitant, as if unsure why she had purchased more than one.

Isha stopped in her tracks, turning to face him with a cold stare. "Is that a problem?"

The man looked slightly uncomfortable but held his ground. "I only spilled one lemonade. It's my money, so I can ask you, I think he said with polite tone, he looks like, he is the person who wants a right responds for yours doings.

Isha’s eyes narrowed, and she raised her chin defiantly. "One lemonade for wasting it. The second for wasting my time with that ridiculous apology."

The man blinked, his face tightening. "And the cola?"  he asked, clearly struggling to keep up with her logic.

Isha sighed dramatically. "The cola is for you. Since you at least had the decency to buy me a replacement, I thought I'd return the favor." She glanced at him, noting his expression. "But, seeing as you don't strike me as someone who drinks cola, I'll just keep it for myself."

The man stared at her, utterly speechless. Without waiting for a response, Isha turned and made her way back toward the company building, leaving him standing there in disbelief, shaking his head at the absurdity of the encounter.

Isha burst into Abhimanyu’s office with infectious energy, her voice ringing out.

"Bhaiii!" she called excitedly as she stormed inside. Abhimanyu, usually cold and composed, looked up from his desk. His expression softened into a smile the moment he saw her.

"Right on time, beta," he said, closing the last file in front of him and standing up.

"Well, it’s shopping we’re talking about-timing has to be perfect!" Isha grinned, her eyes twinkling with excitement. Abhimanyu chuckled, reaching out to affectionately pat her head.

"Let’s head out then," Abhimanyu said, and Isha eagerly took his hand as they walked out of the office together.

As they made their way toward the car, Isha glanced at the lemonade and cola still in her hands from earlier. She sighed and turned to her brother.

"Bhai, take this," she said, offering him the lemonade. Without hesitation, Abhimanyu accepted it, always indulging her whims. Isha opened the cola for herself as they reached the car, slipping inside with a satisfied smile. Moments later, they were on their way, the city stretching out before them.

Isha wandered through the shopping mall, her eyes scanning every dress rack with growing enthusiasm. Each step felt purposeful as she moved from one store to another, her excitement building with every passing minute. Abhimanyu, ever patient and composed, followed her movements with calm indifference, his arms crossed as he stood by the entrance of yet another store. He had always been the pillar of patience during Isha's shopping trips, but even he felt the weight of time dragging on as he glanced at his watch.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Isha approached him, her arms full of shopping bags, her face lit up with a bright, satisfied smile.

"Abhimanyu Bhai, I got everything I needed! Let’s go!" she beamed, her excitement infectious. There was a playful glint in her eyes, the same one that always appeared when she managed to drag her brother on these little adventures. She adored these moments because Abhimanyu never complained-his calm demeanor made him the perfect companion for her shopping sprees.

Abhimanyu gave a slight nod and began to move toward the exit when something-or rather, someone-caught his eye. His feet froze in place, his brow furrowing as a familiar figure moved through the crowd.

Without a word, he began walking towards her, his eyes narrowing as he recognized the silhouette from behind. Clearing his throat, he spoke, his voice laced with his usual cold detachment.

"Misha." The name fell from his lips like a stone, heavy and sharp.

Misha stiffened at the sound of his voice, her heart leaping into her throat. Slowly, she turned, her eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and anxiety. The sight of him standing there, tall and imposing, sent a wave of tension through her body. Her breath hitched, and she found herself momentarily speechless.

Abhimanyu's frown deepened as he noticed her unease. Her eyes flickered nervously, never quite meeting his, and her hands clenched at her sides as if trying to ground herself.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his tone icy, his gaze piercing through her. Something about her behavior felt off-unnerving, even.

Misha swallowed hard, her words coming out in stuttering fragments.

"I… I just… I came for shopping. There's a party… so I needed a dress…" Her voice trembled, and she couldn’t hide the nervous edge in her tone.

Abhimanyu’s frown only deepened. What was wrong with her? She was never this jumpy around him before.

"Misha, are you alright? Is something wrong?" he asked, his voice still cold but with a hint of concern threading through.

Misha quickly shook her head, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. "I’m fine. Really. Don’t worry," she said, though the words sounded hollow. Her fear was palpable, even in her forced calm.

Abhimanyu studied her for a long moment, his sharp gaze reading every micro-expression on her face. His instinct told him something was amiss, but she clearly wasn’t going to share it with him now.

"Let’s go then," he said, gesturing for her to follow. Misha gave a nervous nod, grateful for the opportunity to escape further questioning.

As they walked side by side through the mall, the silence between them was thick with unspoken tension. Abhimanyu couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. Misha’s steps were hurried, her eyes darting around as if she were expecting someone to jump out at her any moment. She glanced back, a flash of fear in her eyes, before quickly looking forward again.

Abhimanyu noticed, his frown returning, but he remained silent. He wasn’t the type to press unless necessary, but this was strange-even for Misha. Whatever it was, she was hiding it, and he wasn’t sure whether to push her for answers or wait until she opened up on her own.

They reached the car, where Isha was already waiting, her shopping bags piled high in the backseat. She noticed Misha and smiled warmly.

"Misha Bhabhi! You also came? That’s great!" Isha chirped as they all got into the car. She immediately launched into excited chatter about the shopping trip and the party she was preparing for, oblivious to the tension hanging in the air between Abhimanyu and Misha.

Misha forced herself to engage in small talk, but her responses were distant, her mind clearly elsewhere. Meanwhile, Abhimanyu’s gaze occasionally flickered to her in the rearview mirror, his mind racing. There was more to this encounter than Misha was letting on, and he intended to find out what.

But for now, he let the silence linger, waiting for the right moment to confront whatever was troubling her.