CHAPTER 11: Part 1 (THE SCAR & THE SURRENDER)
~ ISHIKA (POV) ~
Monday mornings were usually chaotic, but today, a strange heaviness hung over me.
Dadu had been discharged late last night. He was resting in his room now, the house finally quiet after the storm of the weekend. But my mind was far from peaceful.
The room smelled overpowering—the scent of a hundred roses I had frantically stuffed into vases, water jugs, and even a bucket in the corner was everywhere.
I had told Mumms they were a "congratulatory gift" from the office for a project. She had bought it, thankfully.
I stood in front of my open almirah, staring blankly at my clothes.
I needed something professional for the office—something that said "hardworking engineer" and not "secret girlfriend of a King."
I reached for a kurti on the top shelf, my fingers brushing against the wooden panels. In my haste to pull it down, I nudged something hidden deep in the back corner.
*Thud.*
A small, wooden box fell from the shelf, landing on the carpet with a dull sound.
My heart skipped a beat. I froze, staring at it.
It was an ordinary-looking box, but seeing it sent a cold shiver down my spine. I hadn't touched it in three years.
I had buried it under winter sweaters and old scarves, hoping to forget it existed.
Slowly, I knelt and picked it up. My fingers trembled as I traced the smooth wood.
*Flashback: Four Years Ago*
The Jaiswal Mansion was decked up in marigolds and fairy lights. It was the morning of Karan Bhai Sa's wedding to Aabha Bhabhi.
The house was buzzing with laughter and music, but underneath the celebration, there was tension.
Karan Bhai Sa had agreed to this marriage very reluctantly. He had been heartbroken for almost 2 years, living like a shadow of his former self after she died.
Avni.
His college sweetheart. The love of his life. She had died in a tragic accident, leaving him shattered. It took Baba Sa two years to convince him to move on, to marry Aabha for the sake of the family.
I was rushing to the main door to check on the caterers when I saw it. A package sitting on the porch step. No courier boy, no delivery slip. Just a package with *'For Karan'* written on it.
Curious, I had picked it up. I opened the lid right there on the porch.
Inside, nestled in velvet, was a classic, expensive wristwatch. And beneath it, a letter.
My breath had hitched. The handwriting was unmistakable.
"My dearest Karan... Do you remember the stars we counted? I miss you every second... You are my forever, no matter where I am."
It was a love letter. From Avni.
I felt like the ground had disappeared beneath my feet. Avni was dead. How could she send a letter? Was this a cruel prank? Or was it an old letter, lost in the mail for years, arriving on the worst possible day?
I looked around frantically. The street was empty.
My heart hammered against my ribs. If Karan Bhai Sa saw this... if he read these words of love from his dead soulmate on the morning of his wedding to another woman... he would break.
He would stop the wedding. He would walk away from the mandap, and the family would be destroyed.
I made a decision in a split second.
I snapped the box shut. I ran to my room and shoved it deep into the folds of my heavy lehenga.
I never told him. I watched him marry Aabha Bhabhi, his eyes sad but resigned. I watched him become a husband, and then a father to little Aarav. I watched him find peace.
And all the while, I kept the ghost of his past locked in my cupboard.
**End Flashback**
I sat on the floor of my room, the box heavy in my lap.
I still didn't know who sent it. The letter was sweet, full of love, nothing malicious. Just... impossible.
I sighed, shoving the box back into the deepest corner of the shelf, behind a stack of old files.
"Some secrets are better left buried," I whispered to myself.
I had no idea that my brother, the simple corporate employee, had secrets of his own. I thought I was the only one protecting him, protecting the family.
"Sona! Are you ready?" Mumma's voice floated up from the kitchen.
"Coming, Mumma!" I called back.
I quickly dressed. I checked my neck in the mirror. The hickey Mrityunjay had given me in the elevator had faded completely, leaving no trace of his possession.
*Thank God.*
I grabbed my bag, and ran downstairs.
The morning routine was deceptively normal. Baba Sa was reading the newspaper, though his hands shook slightly, a remnant of the fear from the hospital. Dadu was asleep.
I drank a glass of water quickly, and walked out to where Mehak's car was waiting.
"Morning," Mehak said, handing me a travel mug of coffee as I slid in. "You look like you've been fighting ghosts."
"You have no idea," I muttered, buckling my seatbelt. "Between the roses, the necklace, and the skeletons in my closet, I'm exhausted."
As we drove towards the business district, the city waking up around us, my phone pinged.
I unlocked it, expecting a message from the office group chat.
*Mrityunjay: I am at your office. Don't be late, Little Rabbit.*
My stomach dropped to the floor.
"What?" I gasped.
"What happened?" Mehak asked, glancing at me.
"He's at the office," I whispered, staring at the screen. "Mrityunjay is at the office."
Mehak frowned. "So? He owns half the city. Maybe he has a meeting nearby."
"No, Mehak," I said, my voice rising in panic. "My office building. The Singhania Towers. It belongs to Atharva Singhania. Last time I saw them together, they were at each other's throats"
Mehak slammed on the brakes as the traffic light turned red. She looked at me with wide eyes.
"Wait... are you saying the 'Lion' is walking into the 'Enemy's Den'?"
"Yes," I breathed, my hands trembling. "Mrityunjay and Atharva are rivals. Why would he be there?"
He was coming for me.
"Oh god," Mehak groaned. "This is going to be a disaster. If Atharva sees him... if they fight... and you are stuck in the middle..."
I gripped my phone tight. I had left the house to escape the family drama, only to walk straight into a corporate war zone.
>>>>>>>
Mehak slowed the car down about fifty meters away from the main glass doors of Singhania Towers. She kept the engine running, scanning the perimeter.
"I don't see his car," Mehak whispered. "Maybe he decided to invade Atharva's territory was a bad idea after all."
I unbuckled my seatbelt, my heart thumping. "He said he was here. He doesn't bluff."
"Just... be careful," Mehak said, squeezing my hand. "Walk in there like you own the place. Call me if you need an extraction team."
"Thanks, Mehak," I smiled weakly.
I stepped out into the dry, morning heat of Jodhpur. The sun was already beating down on the yellow sandstone pavement.
I clutched my bag tight to my side, lowered my head, and walked briskly toward the entrance.
Executives were rushing past me, phones glued to their ears, but I felt like I was walking through a minefield.
I passed a large, ornate stone pillar near the side of the entrance—a blind spot from the main security desk.
Suddenly, a hand shot out from the shadows.
Large, firm fingers wrapped around my wrist.
I didn't even have time to gasp before I was pulled sharply sideways.
The force was sudden. I stumbled, losing my footing, and crashed hard against a solid wall.
But it wasn't stone. It was warm. It was hard muscle beneath fine fabric.
*Oof.*
The air left my lungs as I collided with his chest. His other arm instantly wrapped around my waist, steadying me, pinning me against his body so I wouldn't fall.
I looked up, breathless, my hands instinctively clutching the lapels of his charcoal-grey suit to steady myself.
Mrityunjay stood over me, encompassing my entire world. He was boxing me into the shadows of the pillar, shielding me from the street.
He wore dark aviator sunglasses, but he slowly took them off, hooking them onto his shirt pocket.
Those piercing green eyes locked onto mine, burning with an intensity that made my knees weak.
"You're making a habit of crashing into me, Little Rabbit," he murmured, his voice a low, rough texture that vibrated through his chest and into mine.
"Hukum Sa!" I hissed, my eyes darting frantically over his shoulder. "What are you doing? This is the main entrance! If Atharva walks out..."
His jaw tightened. He leaned down, his face inches from mine, his grip on my waist tightening slightly.
"What did I tell you about that name?" he growled softly.
I blinked, confused by his sudden intensity. "What?"
"I am 'Hukum Sa' to the world," he whispered, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. "To my employees. To my enemies. But not to you. Call me Mrityunjay."
My breath hitched. "I... I can't. It's disrespectful."
"It's intimate," he corrected. He pulled back just enough to look into my eyes. "Say it."
I swallowed hard, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. "Mrityunjay."
A satisfaction settled in his eyes, turning the green to molten gold. "Better."
"Mrityunjay," I repeated, the name tasting heavy and dangerous on my tongue. "Please. Atharva..."
"Atharva is currently cruising at thirty thousand feet," he cut me off, a smug, lazy smirk playing on his lips. "He is on his way to a merger meeting in Delhi. I tracked his flight myself. He won't be back for forty-eight hours."
I stared at him. Of course. He didn't just walk into the enemy's den; he made sure the enemy was absent first.
"You... you checked his flight?"
"I check everything," he whispered. "I won't let you walk into a war zone unprotected."
He released my wrist, but he didn't step back. instead, he reached behind him, towards the ledge of the pillar where a sleek, expensive-looking paper bag was sitting.
He held it out to me.
"For you," he said simply.
I blinked, taking the heavy bag. "What is this?"
"Lunch," he stated. "My chef made it. Italian. I know the food in this building's cafeteria is garbage, and I don't want you eating it."
I looked at the bag, then up at him. He had come all the way here, risked being seen in his rival's territory, just to bring me lunch?
"You... you brought me lunch?" I asked, a smile tugging at my lips. "Like a tiffin delivery service?"
His eyes narrowed playfully. "I am the most expensive delivery service in the world, Ishika. Be grateful."
I giggled. I couldn't help it. The feared King of Jodhpur was delivering pasta to his girlfriend. Did I just call myself his girlfriend. *Ahhhhh*
"Thank you... Mrityunjay," I whispered, clutching the bag. "This is really sweet."
He leaned in, his body heat enveloping me.
"Make sure you eat it," he rasped, his voice rough. "I don't like you looking so thin."
He reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering on my cheek for a second longer than necessary.
He stared at my lips, his pupils dilating. The air around us grew heavy, charged with a magnetic pull. He leaned down, his face inches from mine, his voice dropping to a husky growl.
"Don't smile at me like that here, Ishika."
"Why?" I breathed.
"Because," he rasped, his gaze dropping to my lips, "I have a very strong urge to kiss you. And if I kiss you, I won't stop. And I would hate to give the security guards a free show."
My face burned hot red. I quickly looked down, clutching the parcel like a lifeline.
He chuckled—a dark, rumbling sound that I felt in my chest.
"Go inside," he commanded softly. "Before I decide to take you—and the lunch—back to my place."
He stepped back, putting his sunglasses back on. The tender lover vanished, replaced instantly by the cold, untouchable tycoon.
He turned and walked toward a black car waiting silently at the curb, moving with a confident swagger that screamed power.
I stood there for a moment in the shadow of the pillar, clutching the lunch bag, my heart racing so fast I thought it might explode.
He didn't know where I lived. He didn't know my family secrets. But he was standing outside my office with lunch, just to see me smile.
I took a deep breath, held the bag close to my chest, and walked into Singhania Towers.
To Be Continued...