I close my eyes for a moment. “I don’t trust Dev. I don’t trust anything about this proposal.”
“I know,” he murmurs. “But right now, there’s nothing we can do.”
A beat passes before he turns and opens the passenger door for me. “Come on. Let’s go. It’s late. Your parents must be worried.”
I glance back once again at Sonia’s door, then turn to him and nod before sliding into the car. As he shuts the door and walks around to the driver’s side, a single thought echoes through me.
A storm is about to hit and ruin everything.
Chapter 8
Dev
Veer has been staring at me across the desk for the last twenty minutes as if I’ve completely lost my mind. And, to be fair, he’s not wrong, given how I’ve been handling things lately. But I am not about to give him the satisfaction of admitting it.
So I ignore him and keep my eyes glued to the email on my laptop screen, pretending the contract numbers are far more important than his gaze.
When he doesn’t get a reaction out of me, he drums his fingers loudly on the armrest, one leg crossed over the other like he’s settling in for a long, theatrical performance of‘Let’s Annoy Dev Until He Snaps.’Unfortunately for him, I’m just as stubborn as he is. I deliberately keep my eyes glued to my laptop.
But Veer, of course, is Veer. Patience clearly isn’t in his DNA.
Several more seconds pass, and when I don’t give him the opening he’s fishing for, he finally uncrosses his leg, leans forward, plants both elbows on my desk, and breaks the silence.
“Okay, what the hell is going on with you, bro?”
I still don’t look up and keep staring at the laptop. “Nothing.”
Veer lets out a short laugh, the kind that says, ‘Don’t insult my intelligence.’
“Oh, really? Because you haven’t been ‘nothing’ since the day at the guest house.” He leans in closer. “And don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, meeting his eyes for barely a second before looking back at the email. It’s a lie. A pathetic one. And Veer knows it.
He scoffs and leans back in his chair. “Oh, please, bro. Don’t give me that corporate-robot tone. It doesn’t work on me.”
I glare at him, but he doesn’t stop.
“But if you want me to spell it out,” he says, folding his arms, his eyes locked on mine, “then explain to me…” He pauses just long enough to get under my skin. “Why is my bro suddenly playing matchmaker and fixing Sonia’s marriage?”
I raise my eyebrow. “Does her marriage affect you?”
“No,” he answers flatly. Then he doubles down. “It doesn’t affect me. But it sure as hell affects me that my brother is taking an interest in matters that don’t concern him.”
I let out a quiet breath and sigh. “You’re being dramatic.”
“Am I? You, Dev Rathore, who never interferes in anyone’s personal business, suddenly swoops in and fixes Sonia’s marriage. That too with more interest than you show in multimillion-dollar deals.”
I roll my eyes. “Mr. Mehta was looking for a bride for his son, and I thought Sonia would be perfect.”
Veer laughs under his breath. “And since when did you start doing social service?”
Fuck, even I know I didn’t do any of this out of moral righteousness. That’s not who I’m, and we both know it. I fixed the marriage because it all started with Sonia. Because her mess dragged Meera into one trouble after another. I thought if Sonia was finally settled, maybe Meera would stop throwing herselfinto danger and bruising herself in ways that made my heart slam against my ribs.
So yes. This wasn’t about helping anyone. It was about closing every door, every chance she had of getting hurt, even if it meant I had to get involved myself. And that’s the part I’m not proud of.
“Let me guess. This whole ‘fix the marriage’ circus is because you’re attracted to her friend.” He points a finger at me. “That’s why you keep running every damn time she’s in trouble—even if it’s just to take her to the hospital.”
I slam my laptop shut. “You’re overthinking it.”
