“We should get them married soon. It’s been long enough since they got engaged,” John said, his tone warm but expectant as he looked across the lavish sitting room.
Ruma, seated with practiced grace beside her porcelain teacup, lifted her eyes to meet his. A smile curved her lips—polite, composed, and entirely agreeable.
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Brinda hissed when Rudransh tightened his grip on her wrist. "What were you doing here?" he demanded. Fear fluttered through her. His presence, the weight of him, the scent of his cologne, always made her nervous. And the thought of being seen with him is making her more tensed, her tai would surely shove her out to the dark outhouse if she found her with him again. "I was just playing with jhumki... Major saab," she whispered with her small voice. Rudransh's gaze dropped to her trembling lips. His eyes darkened. So damn innocent. "What were you playing?" he asked, stepping closer. Brinda's heartbeat thudded at his proximity. "Look at me," he said firmly, knowing well she always listens to his strict tone. And she did. The moment her eyes met his, something electric ran through him. "Luka...chupi," she said simply. (Hide and seek.) Rudransh arched a brow, amusement ghosting his face. "I want to play too. Will you play with me?" His voice was a soft whisper, dangerous and intimate. He liked to play with words around her; he liked how she answered them without catching the actual meaning. Brinda blinked, thinking for a moment, then nodded, back and forth. He smirked, released her wrist, and stepped back. "Go. I'll find you." She darted away to hide, but he caught her again, his hand firm at her arm. She looked up at him. He looked down at her seriously this time. "Make sure I don't find you," he said with a lethal tone. "If I do... i will make you limp for a month."
"He told himself he hates her, because the truth was far more dangerous." ------- No…” Her scream tore through the silence. She rushed toward the fireplace, but Demir grabbed her roughly from behind, holding her in place. “No… leave me! Leave me, you bastard!” Angelina screamed and cried loudly, thrashing in his grip. But Demir’s movements remained chillingly calm. He crumbled the last page of the file with his one hand and tossed it into the flames. Angelina screamed loudly. Those were the lab acceptance reports of the eczema cream she had created. “No! No!” Her cries broke into raw agony as she struggled, but Demir only held her tighter, as if forcing her to watch as the fire devoured everything. This was her dream. She had poured her soul into it, working day and night for this one chance. The day those reports were placed in her hands, she had seen her future clearly. She had already imagined herself as one of the most successful dermatologists in her field. She had built her whole vision around it. And now… it is gone. All gone. Reduced to nothing but ashes. Her sobs faltered. Slowly, she fell silent, her tear-stained face turning toward the fire. She stared at it blankly. “You know so many other ways to climb the ladder of success,” Demir whispered at her ear. “I’m sure this little loss won’t affect you much.”
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