Me:You look cute when you’re held hostage.
There’s a pause and I can sense her rolling her eyes.
Sunshine:I regret liking you.
My smile lingers longer this time.
Me:Too late, Sunshine.
I stare at the screen for a second after the conversation settles. Then lock it.
Because as much as I want to stay in that space—that easy, light space where she’s safe and sarcastic and within reach—I don’t have that luxury right now. Not when something—or someone—tried to take that away.
My jaw sets.
Whoever did this—whatever this is—They don’t get a second chance. Because I don’t lose people like that. Not when I can do something about it.
And this time—I will.
CHAPTER 55
ISHIKA
My phone buzzes on the side table when I am almost asleep. I groan, irritated by the noise but reach out to my phone anyways.
GoldenBoy :Come to my room.
I stare at the screen for a long second, my brain slow to catch up, still foggy from sleep and the lingering dull ache behind my eyes. My first instinct is frustration. Who just texts like that?
I type back—
Me:Why?
The reply comes instantly.
GoldenBoy :It’s a surprise.
I narrow my eyes at my phone, So Aryan coded, no context, only demands. I should ignore it. I should turn my phone on silent, roll over, and go back to sleep like a sane person who values her peace. Instead, I’m already pushing the blanket off and sitting up.
Idiot.
The house is quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that only exists late at night, when even the walls seem to settle and breatheslower. I step out of the room carefully, instinctively avoiding the spots on the floor that creak, even though I don’t need to. Everyone’s asleep. The corridor is dimly lit, a soft spill of warm light coming from under his door. I pause for a second. My hand hovers over the handle. What is he doing? Before I can overthink it into something bigger than it is, I push the door open and my steps falter. The room doesn’t look like his room anymore. For a second, I genuinely think I’ve walked into the wrong place.
Soft yellow light flickers across the walls—candles, placed carefully around the room, their glow steady and warm. Not too many. Not overwhelming. Just enough to shift the entire space into something quieter, softer. There are flowers. Not arranged in some over-the-top, suffocating display—but scattered, intentional. A small arrangement on the side table. A few loose petals near the bed. The curtains are drawn. The world outside shut out completely.
And in the middle of it—Him. Leaning back against the edge of the bed, arms loosely crossed, watching me like he’s been waiting. Which he probably has. For a moment, I don’t say anything. I just…take it in. “This is…” I start, then stop, because I don’t actually have a word for it. He straightens slightly, suddenly looking almost—almost—uncertain.
“It’s not too much, right?” he asks, scratching the back of his neck in a way that feels so out of place with everything else. That’s what gets me. The fact that he’s standing here, after doing all this, and still asking if it’s too much because he wants to respect my boundaries.
Something in my chest shifts. “It’s…” I exhale slowly, stepping inside and closing the door behind me. “You’re unbelievable.”
His mouth twitches. “That bad?”
I shake my head. “No,” I say quietly. “Not bad.”
I take a few steps further into the room, my fingers brushing lightly over the back of a chair, grounding myself in something real because this—this feels dangerously close to something I don’t know how to handle. “You didn’t have to do this,” I add.
“I know.” I let out a quiet breath, glancing around once more before my eyes settle back on him.
