“No arguments,” I cut in, my tone firm.
She turns her face to the window, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. I catch it in my peripheral vision, the discomfort radiating off her.
But I don’t care. Right now, I’m not in the fucking mood to make this easy for her.
Finally, minutes later, I pull into the driveway. Killing the engine, I step out and walk around to her side. When I reach the passenger door, she’s already fumbling nervously with the handle, but I beat her to it, yanking the door open before she can.
She startles, her eyes snapping up to mine. I know I’m being an asshole with a capital A, but if there’s a switch to turn it off, I can’t find it.
“Sidharth…” she starts, her voice tentative, almost unsure if she should speak at all. But I don’t let her finish. I reach for her hand and take it. She lets out a soft gasp, but I keep my hold firm as I lead her towards the house. Even with the storm raging inside me, I make sure my grip isn’t harsh, just firm enough to show her I’m done being patient.
At the door, I press my thumb against the digital lock and push it open. Once we step inside, I close the door behind us, the sharp clicking sound echoing in the quiet.
As we continue to step further in, I catch her eyes scanning the place. I know exactly what she’s seeing. A sleek, masculine interior—the clean lines, the muted greys, the dark wood. The place is just like me. No-nonsense. Everything is exactly where it belongs.
I lead her straight into the living room and stop in front of the black leather couch. Only then do I finally let go of her hand.
“Sit,” I say, nodding towards the couch.
She nods and perches on the edge of her couch, her eyes flicking nervously to mine. She’s never seen me like this. And she shouldn’t have to. But she left me no choice.
I cross my arms, my gaze locked on her. “You have some explaining to do. And let me warn you, those reasons better be damn good.” Even as the words leave my mouth, I know the truth. Nothing she says will ever be enough to justify meeting that bastard.
She draws in a shaky breath but doesn’t look away. “I don’t think I owe you an explanation,” she says, her voice trembling even as she tries to be brave. “This… this isn’t your business.”
“You don’t owe me an explanation?” I let out a humorless laugh. “If you haven’t noticed, Nisha… protecting you, caring about you, fighting for youismy fucking business.” My tone drops, every damn word laced with the truth. “I made it mybusiness the moment I held you in my arms and carried you into that hospital.”
She doesn’t answer at first. Her shoulders shake slightly, maybe from the intensity of my words. Then, she finally she speaks.
“Well, I didn’t ask you to make my mess your business.”
My fists clench at my sides. That one sentence lands like a punch straight to my gut.
“So that’s what this is?” I bite out, my tone sharp with disbelief. “You didn’t ask, so I shouldn’t care? You go to meet the devil without telling me, and I’m just supposed to ignore it? Do you have any idea what it felt like, hearing you met that asshole? Without me? Do you know what went through my head on the drive to the station?”
“I wasn’t in any danger,” she defends weakly.
“Don’t tell me that!” I snap, my voice suddenly rising. “Don’t sit there and pretend this wasn’t dangerous. That bastard nearly destroyed you, Nisha. You think I’d let you anywhere near him again?”
“That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you,” she fires back. “Because I knew you’d try to stop me.”
I bend down, placing both hands on either side of the couch, caging her in. My eyes lock onto hers. “Damn right I would’ve stopped you. Because I don’t want you anywhere near that bastard, especially not without me.” I shake my head. “Goddamn it, you should’ve used your brain, just once, before doing something so reckless.”
Tears gather in her eyes as she places her hands on my chest, though she doesn’t push me away.
“Well, Mr. Sidharth, it’s easy for you to do things rationally, to think things through,” she says, her voice cracking halfway through. “But I’m not you, Sidharth.” Her eyes glisten, and her breathing grows unsteady. “I have skeletons in my cupboard,things I’ve buried so deep, they’ve started to rot inside me. And I need to deal with them in my own way. Meeting Prakash was my way of dealing with it.”
I stare at her, breathing hard. The words tear out of me before I can stop them.
“You think I don’t have skeletons, Nisha?”
She blinks at me, but I hold her gaze and continue, “You think I haven’t been through hell?” I breathe out, the words rough around the edges. “Then you’re highly mistaken.”
Her brows knit together.
“My sister,” I say, my voice raw now. “She was twenty-one. Beautiful, brilliant, full of life. Got involved with a man who was charming, rich, and a drug dealer.” The memory burns in my throat. “She didn’t know at first. And by the time she did, she was in too deep.”
Nisha’s lips part in shock, her expression softening.
