Call me back before I launch a series of world wars that’ll end the planet in hours.
Kiara, if you don't reply in five minutes, I'm pulling a full Liam Neeson, Taken style. I will find you.
I swear, if you don’t call me back now, I’ll file a missing person’s report.
Kiara? Are you OKAY? Trust me… My designer is dead today.
Babe? Hello?
Why is your number telling me you’ve left the country?
If your disappearance has anything to do with that douchebag VIHAAN, consider him dead too.
Kiara, CALL ME, I am fucking worried.
Tell me he didn’t try to get you murdered again?
Why isn’t she part of the Indian army? She could probably bring down entire enemy troops with a single death stare.
However, I don’t have the strength to give her a detailed explanation right now. Another unknown number is buzzing on my screen, and I couldn’t care less who it is.
Iturned off the phone and am not planning to switch it on anytime soon. But I need to eat something before my stomach crawls out of my body.
____________
I think this house should have signs everywhere, showing where to turn rightorleft. Its corridors are bigger than an entirecityin India.
Thank God I’m alone—no staff in sight to pester me with questions about unleashing tomato carnage orpasta meltdowns!Just me, the universe, and… wait.
I stepped into the kitchen and stopped.
Somebody pinch me. No, scratch that—don’t! Because if this is a dream, I’m filing a petition to never wake up.
Oh. My. God.
There was a man. Shirtless. Cooking.
Yes, shirtless.
He moved like the kitchen belonged to him. Muscles flexing as he flipped something in a pan, apron tied low on his waist, black sweatpants clinging in ways I tried not to acknowledge. He stopped tossing, picked up a whisk, and started whipping something with such precision that it was like culinary magic in motion.
What kind of chefs has my brother hired?
Oh my God, Iwantto look away. I really do. But my eyes? My traitorous, disobedient eyes are glued to him like he’s the finale of the greatest crime thriller ever made, and Ihaveto know what happens next. I was just standing there, gawking like a creep.
He turned slightly—perfect stubble, a sharp jawline, and piercing blue eyes that made me lose my grip on reality for a moment.
“Need some help?” he asked, voice deep and smooth.
I froze. Turning around is the last thing I want to do.
Focus, Kiara… breathe.
Don’t look at him. Don’t look at him.
But I do. Of course, I do.
“Hi…?” My voice finally breaks through as I try to steady myself. “I… just wanted coffee.”
