But Advik rejected it, saying it would look too much like a trap. I agree.
So now we’re in the trapping phase. Figuring out the best way to do it. So far... nothing.
Viraj has been getting more antsy about building a trap that hasfatalconsequences for Mehul and his team. But then again... killing Mehul won’t solve the issue. Just like executing his brother, Mohan, didn’t achieve anything.
It’s 7 a.m. And I’m still in bed contemplating ways to make Advik’s attendance at Aarohi’s wedding in two weeks happen. Vikram and his wife Ishika are adamant that he should be there. Given that their parents haven’t physically met Advik in more than a month now. And that’s apparently unusual for their family.
It’s also the only place I can think of having Advik out and about. Connecting with his family. Crowded event. Outside of Delhi. Anything else is too isolated anddangerous. Also, I’m slightly curious about how he’ll react to her getting married.
I throw the covers back and freshen up for the day.
The moment I step into the living room, I’m expecting Advik—wearing sweats—cooking us something. Breakfast ishisterritory.
But for the first time in weeks he’s not there. The lights are off. Curtains drawn. My anxiety rises.
I run back to his room. Only to find it empty. Bed properly made. He’s not in the apartment.
What the fuck?
Where is he?
A few seconds pass with me on the verge of hyperventilating. My fingers furiously opening up the tracking app to find the stupid man.
The main door clicks quietly. I watch him carefully—oh so gingerly—close the door behind him. Trying to make minimal sound as he does.
I watch him give the best performance of his life, covering his tracks like he wasn’t just endangering himself by going out without informing me.
I wonder how many times he’s done this stupid stunt.
The moment he crosses the kitchen and spots me glaring, I hear anhonest to Godyelp. A girlie one at that.
“Madarch—” he gasps. “You scared me.”
His silhouette is partially golden against the sun streaming through the windows. His chest moving at an unnatural pace.
Good.Be scared, my little sneaky shit.
“Where were you?” I ask calmly.
“Uh...” He gathers himself. “The café down the street actually. I wanted coffee. The pods were finished.”
The excuse is brilliant. The pods areindeedfinished. I drank them all since he wouldn’t drink much caffeine.
I also realized over time that he avoids coffee—given his heart condition since the overdose.
My blood ices over. Theoverdose. This man fucking tried to kill himself. Haszerosurvival instincts. Took a damnbulletto his shoulder.
And now—he just left the safety of our apartment to randomly stroll about.
I don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d come back and found out he was actually dead.
But I don’t let myself dwell on that thought for too long—because when I do, I can’t fucking breathe.
And right now? This stupid, suicidal moron had just waltzed out of the apartment like his life wasn’t hanging by a thread. Like his fucking heart hadn’t already flatlined once.
“Where...” I step closer, my voice deadly calm. “Were you?”
He sighs, already defeated, knowing there’s no escape from this little interrogation. “Dev. I reallywasat the coffee shop. But Dev and I met up before he headed to work. We... I don’t know...”
