Unexpected

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CHAPTER TWo

UNEXPECTED

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She was lifted off the ground, her back pressed against his chest, his warmth sending chills down her spine. His deep, husky voice brushed against her ear, "Did you really think you could get away? When I was here." and intentionally touch his covered lips on her ear. When she felt his touch on her, a shiver ran through her spine. He pressed her more into his chest.

Her hyphephobia started working (don't like or hate physical touches). She starts sweating, and anxiety begins to build inside her. She doesn't let anyone touch her apart from her mom and Rhea. She absolutely trusts them and feels safe and comfortable by their touch.

He turned her towards him and looked at her face with his dark eyes. After more than a decade, he craves to see someone face. He was staring at her, but she was looking down and closed her eyes tightly. He can feel her shivering, smooth body in his arm. He smirked under his mask. His nostrils fill up with her fragrance.

Fvck.

Her rose scent.

He placed his two fingers under her chin and made her look up; she didn't open her eyes but could feel his green, dark eyes roaming on her face. He title left side and look at her with more concentration. He said demandingly, "Open your eyes."

She doesn't open. He again said, this time loudly, "I said open your eyes." He doesn't appreciate people who defy him.

Her heart pound rapidly hearing him. She flutters her eyes and slowly opens them. Her honey brown, moist red eyes meet with his green forest. They're gaze-locked; they lost in it.

He was glaring at every inch of her face-her forehead, nose, brows, big eyes, cheeks, and chin-not the last but her puffy, light red lips. He counted how many moles were on her face-one near her lips, the second on her cheeks, and the last little upper corner of her eye-a few acne spots on her beautiful face, which makes her face more beautiful.

He again locked his eyes with her. At the moment tears came out of her eyes, she said between her sobs, in an almost unaudible voice, "Leave me!" Her lips trembling fearfully; more tears roll down to her cheeks.

He felt proud and satisfied with himself, seeing her reaction-so petrified she was, shivering and trembling beneath him. That's what he's with everyone when he's around them. And every time they satisfied him.

He felt satisfied; nevertheless, her tears were creating uneasiness inside him. Which is doing something with his mind or perhaps with his heart. He heard her angelic voice barely audible, but not to him. He slowly loosens his grip on her waist and takes a few steps back. and keep a safe distance between them.

When he loosened his grip on her. She quickly backed also. She looks towards the ground again because his aura is so dominating and intense, but he doesn't take his eyes off, just looking at her with amusement or admiring her every movement.

She raises her eyes up and looks at him, but her eyes fall on his arms. which is injured and bleeding badly, her eyes widen. She couldn't control herself and ran to him and held his hand in hers, carefully so as not to hurt him, and asked him as if she had right on him, "Where do you get this? You hurt yourself. How dare you? Didn't you know how important our blood is for us?" She didn't release what she asked.

He frowned at her sudden change of behavior. His heart skips a beat on her words, which are still echoing in his mind. His eyes stick on her; he bends his neck left to look properly, but her hair blocks his view. Automatically, his right hand moved up and stuck her hair behind her ear.

She lifts her eyes up, and her orbs meet with his. His can see the corcen and moist in her for him? He looked in them emotionless, said, "It was nothi--," but stopped hearing a familiar voice from behind, crusaded him under his breath, and realized. Why is he crusing him? Because he interpreted between them. Why is he answering and explaining her?

She leaves her hold on him. And thought in her mind "Why do I react like this? Why am I worried for him? Why the fvck are my eyes moist? Something is wrong with me." She backed, and he saw that.

He again hears the same voice, but more clearly than before. He firmly gripped her both wrists in his one hand, hiding both of them behind the big tree. He pressed her back into the tree and glanced at the entrance of the park.

She was scared by his sudden action and overthinking about possible outcomes. Why did he hide me here? What's his intention? Is he going to kill me? No. No. Is he going to kidnap me? Is he going to rape me?. Her eyes widen.

She started sweating more and asked him fearfully yet softly, "W-what are you doing?" She stammered, but before she was complete, he chocked her throat. She was shocked and scared more. He presses her more into the tree. She gripped his hand with her both hands and tried to withdraw his hand, but her efforts didn't affect him slightly. Her breath became heavy, and she struggled for her breath. Tears came out of her eyes. She stammered while saying, "L--Lea-aave m-m-eee."

He pinned her both hands above her head with his left hand and tightened his grip more on her neck; his eyes darked more even before he gritted his teeth and said firmly, "Shut up, just fvcking shut up. And who are you to ask me about my wounds? Who do you dare to ask me? Did you own me? Or I'm your boyfriend or husband?"

She shut her eyes tightly, fearfully. Her face was covered with her tears. Her body is shivering like hell, and her heart is pounding badly, which he can hear easily. Her lungs become out of breath. His grip on her hurting her; her face turned red because of a lack of oxygen.

She pleads to him, "P-please leave me." It's become difficult for her to breathe or move; more tears flowed out to her cheeks, his hand soaked with it.

He loosens his grip but doesn't leave.

She starts coughing, taking deep breaths, her breath fanning against the bare chest of his shirt; her breath becomes normal. He again hears that familiar voice, "Where are you, Mr. Lord? Come out"

She opened her mouth to say, but before that happened, he put his hand on her mouth, which was on her neck. He shook his head in no and silently mouthed, "Shhhh.. don't say anything." She flutters her wet lashes and nods. He looked into her innocent and angelic brown eyes.

He pressed his body on her to hide and moved his eyes from her to the man who was looking for him. He carefully watched his movement; he was researching for him but couldn't find him. So he thought that he was not here and left from there.

Her eyes widen because of their closeness. She drenched in her sweat.

He eyes glued on him until he left. He sighed, and he shook his head while smirking, saying in under his breath, "idiot," then his eyes again met with her, who was looking at him with amusement. She totally lost in him.

He locked his eyes with her and said with a devil-smirked, "Didn't I tell you that staring at me isn't good for you, darling?" He forgot in what position they're standing.

She flutters her wet lashes and turns her face to the other side. Her soft contact lips move on his palm and give a different type of sensation to his body.

She gestured for him to remove his hand from her mouth with her eyes, wiggled in his hold.

Then he looked at their position and released how close they're. He immediately withdrew his hand from her mouth and distanced himself from her.

She was again staring at him, unstoppable.

He cleared her throat and said annoyingly, "Stop looking at me like this." Hearing him, she immediately moved her eyes from him and bit her lower lip.

He smiled and again said, "Who are you? And what are you doing here at this hour? Don't you know this hour isn't safe for kids? And you're not going to always be lucky to find someone like me, kid."

He himself doesn't know why he said this, but he said

The first time she doesn't react to 'kid' but when she again heard the same word, she fumed while pointing her Intex finger at him. "Listen Mr. Whatever. I'm not a kid, okay? I'm an adult woman." He smirked at her word. She continues, "And who are you to tell me where I need to go? When go? And--"

She said this when he started coming near her. He said, "Who I'm? Do want to know that, so let me tell you," he said while looking at her eyes and leaning near her face. She gulped and regretted why she asked him that.

He leaned near her ear and said, "Darling, I don't know if you read fiction books or not, especially 'Dark romance' one. By chance, if you are, then you should read about Mafia and powerful businessmen. So I'm going to be your favorite fictional man but in real life."

She got shocked hearing the 'Mafia'. She just stared at him blankly, her mouth wide open. Of course she reads dark novels. She doesn't know what to do. Or what not? She just frozen at her place. He looks at her face, which loses all her colors. He liked that reaction and smirked.

After so much difficulty, she asked him, "You are kidding with me, na?" And fake laughed. But her laughter stopped when he said "no, I don't" with a serious look while shaking his head in 'no'.

He said with concern, "Now stop looking at me and go home." She turned to the other side and cleared her throat because of embarrassment; he caught her so many times glaring at him.

She turned, hearing him again. "I'm getting late. So go home, or you want me to drop you. And you know, darling, I don't mind it." He said flirtly and tapped on her cheeks with her Intex finger.

He put his hand in his pocket. She looked at him and said innocently, while taking her steps back from him, "I'm not a kid; I can go home myself, Mr. Mafia.".

She turns and starts walking as fast as she can. She can't run because she doesn't want to show him that she's scared of him after knowing who he is.

He looked at her walking and smiled, remembering what she said and with which name she indicated him, "Mr. Mafia." He shouted while looking at her. "Hey," she turned and looked at him and said annoyingly, "What?". He smiled and said, "Bye, meet you soon." He waved her.

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She's standing outside her house for 15 minutes, nervously tapping her foot on the ground, assuming all possibilities could be happening with her.

She covered her neck with a scarf because of the marks that he gave her while choking her.

Finally gathering herself, she placed her hand on the doorknob, but before she could turn it, she took her step back and said with fear, "No. I can't do that. She isn't going to leave me."

She paused and said again, "You're overthinking; Aayesha, maybe she was sleeping. Hmm..." But her other side said, "You really think she'll sleep when you're outside, and that too this hour."

Fear, anxiety, worries, and depression all begin to take place. Again, she placed her shaking hand on the doorknob, her heart racing rapidly. She closed her eyes and opened the door without making much noise. She slowly opened her eyes and peered inside.

Her eyes widen, and her mouth opens with joy. She sighs heavy and steps inside; she finds her mom nowhere. She walked to the dining table, picked up a glass of water, and drank it while thinking about the incident that happened with her in the park. "Is it real? Or I'm dreaming? No, it's not a dream then."

Her thoughts were broken, and she was shaken with fear. Goosebumps run throw her body and water, which in my mouth came out again in glass when she heard her scary voice, "So finally you gotta time to come home, my dear daughter."

My dear daughter?

Now the game over!

She put the glass down and slowly turned to face her. She gulped and shuttered, "Mom, listen first." She cut her off by shouting, "Do you know what the time is?" Both of them turn their heads toward the clock.

It's 1:59!

She casually said, "Mom, it's just 1 o'clock and some minutes." Mom said angrily, "1 o'clock and some minutes? It's going to be 2 a.m. in the morning, and you are saying, "

Her mom came close to her and slapped on her arms. She criedly complained, "Mom, it hurts." She didn't react and again slapped her. She shoutly asked, "Where are you roaming till now? Tell me. You know how many times I called you, but you never answered my call. I worried for you so much, do you know? Where you are, tell me?"

She immediately replied, "In park." She confusedly asked, "Park?"" She lied to her, "I don't remember when I sleep there, and when my eyes open, I come directly home."

She disappointedly said, "You useless person. Do you ever wonder if something happened with you then?" She placed her hand on her mom's shoulder and made her sit on the chair. She kneeled down, looked into her eyes, and said, "Mumma, nothing happened with me. Your daughter is safe, and I'll never do that again, okay?" Her mom just shook her head.

She thought, If you are scared of this thing, then what happened when you knew that your daughter was suffering from cancer?

Her mom said, "Now stop looking at me and eat your dinner." She nodded at her and hummed her.

They had our dinner. It means she eats and her mother sits next to her; she knows that her daughter doesn't like to eat alone.

Her mother asked her about Scruf but gave her some excuse and diverted her mind. After dinner, they retired to their respective rooms.

She took a shower, did her nightly routine, and lied down on the bed. Think again about the events that happened with her, especially the park event.

She thought, "Who can he be? And why don't I feel totally uneasiness when he touches me? Why does it feel me safe?" Her other side said, "Don't lie, you took one hour of shower."

She said, "Yeah, you're right, but usually I take at least a 2-hour shower when someone touches me, and nobody touches me like this closely ever. Is my phobia no more?"

While thinking about him and the other events, she doesn't release when she drifts in her dreamland.

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He entered his mansion thinking about only her. A familiar silence welcomed him again. He came to the dinner area. He set aside the thoughts of her and poured a glass of water for himself and gulped it down in one go.

He looks at food; different types of food are placed on the dining table for him, but he doesn't feel appetite like always. He sighs and walks away from there to his room.

While ascending stairs, his phone rang. He pulled out his phone from his pocket. He saw the caller's name, and his lips began to twist up. He picked up the call, and the other side person said, "Boss, we tortured them as you wished."

He hummed. The other person asked him, "What do we do next, boss?" While listening, he came in front of his room, "burn them alive in their property with the drugs they smulged, and don't miss to send me a clip of it," and hung up the phone. He entered the room and directly went into the bathroom.

He stands in front of the mirror and starts unbuttoning his black shirt, which is covered with his blood. He threw his shirt somewhere in the bathroom and saw his wound throw mirror.

He touched it while remembering her, her knee-length blue dress, perfectly cliche to her curves, and how she ran towards him after seeing his wound. Her reaction is so pure or genus and concerned in her eyes.

He cursed; remember her eyes. "Fvck! Her eyes" he chuckled, shaking his head, remembering her what she asked him.

"Where do you get this? You hurt yourself. How dare you? Didn't you know how important our blood is for us?"

He apologized for something he didn't do, and the sorry word is not in his vocabulary; it's new. He said softly, like she is aware of him, and hearing, "Sorry, sweetheart," he paused and looked himself into the mirror and said again. "I promise you, darling. I wouldn't hurt myself again."

He took a warm shower and treated his injured arm himself, and after one and a half hours later he came out of the bathroom, drying his hair with a towel. He was only wearing a trouser; his upper body is bare.

He placed a towel on the sofa head and came out from his room to the terrace with his iPad. Cold air touched his warm body. He placed his both forearms on the railing and on his iPad, and a devil smirk formed seeing the new headlight of news.

"CEO of Mehra Groups and his guards found buried dead in his farm house with 100 kg of drugs."

"CBI found that CEO of Mehra Groups, Mr. Mehra, was an organizer of human trafficking and drug smuggling."

Many more...

(You can imagine yourself. And i know you're best in it😉)

He switched off his iPad and came inside. He lied down on the bed to relax himself for sometime, but as soon as he closed his eyes, her face came in front of his eyes, and with a jerk, he opened his eyes. He frowned and said frustratedly, "What the fuck is that? Why is her image coming in front of my eyes again and again?" He paused and said again, "Maybe I'm thinking too much."

He slept, and again her face came in front of him. He twisted and turned on the bed for half an hour, but sleep was far away from his eyes. He sits on the bed, frustrated and irritated by her though.

He said frustratedly, "I can't sleep now." He comes down from bed and steps out of his room and turns his heels towards his house office to emerge himself from work so he can't think about her.

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The following day:-

Wahan was focused on his laptop, sifting through files, until a sharp knock on the door interrupted his concentration. He responded coolly, "Come in."

His assistant, Aman, stepped into the room, adopting a formal demeanor as he announced, "Sir, the investors are here for the meeting."

Wahan set the file aside, a smile breaking through as he shook his head. Looking at Aman, with a glint of amusement in his voice, he replied, "Instructed them to leave; we’ve terminated the deal with them."

Aman mirrored his smile, responding before departing, "As you wish, boss."

 Turning his gaze to the expansive glass wall, Wahan took in the breathtaking sunset, the office bathed in a warm, golden hue that exuded tranquility. The space was neither sparse nor overcrowded, featuring a sleek sofa table and a grand bookshelf filled with various books and files related to his work, along with a hidden room behind it, some more things give there attendance in his space.

However, the sunset held little interest for him; his thoughts were consumed by feelings of betrayal. With a simmering anger, he muttered, "Did you think I wouldn’t find out you were deceiving me? You’ve chosen the wrong adversary, Mr. Shah." After a moment of contemplation, he returned to his work, the fire of his resolve ignited.

As evening descended, he entered his mansion, utterly exhausted, yet his body was overshadowed by a burning fierce, his blood simmering with rage. The first sight that greeted him ignited his fury; his jaw tightened, and his eyes blazed with red.

He growled menacingly at the figure standing before him, "How dare you set foot in my house? Did I not make it clear that you and your so-called family are to stay away from me and things related to me?" His voice reverberated through the stillness of his mansion.

Without waiting for a response, he called out sharply, "Arsh." The head of his security team quickly appeared, standing at attention beside him, bowing his head in respect. The guard, visibly anxious, inquired, "What’s wrong, sir?"

Wahan's voice was a low growl, teeth clenched tightly, as he demanded, "Did I grant you permission to allow her entry?" The menace in his tone was palpable.

The guard trembled beneath Wahan's intense glare, fear evident in his demeanor as he stammered, "Boss, she claimed to have spoken with you."

Wahan inquired with an intensity that commanded attention, "If any of my enemies show up tomorrow claiming they've had spoken with me, would you permit them to enter?" His tone was filled with a blend of gravity and anger.

He continued in the same unwavering harsh tone, a reminder of his previous command, "Did I not instruct you to never permit them inside? And if they attempt to enter, you are to inform me immediately?"

Arsh felt no need to respond; the intensity of his boss's gaze spoke volumes. He fully aware of Wahan's fury and disdain towards his family, and thus he stood in silence, absorbing the weight of the moment.

The tension was shattered by the woman at the center of the situation, who spoke up, "It's not his fault—"

Wahan's voice thundered in response, "Did I ask your opinion?" She fell silent, her gaze dropping to the floor, avoiding his piercing stare.

This woman was the wife of his father's elder brother.

After a moment of contemplation, Wahan gestured for Arsh to leave, recognizing that further action was worthless. He brushed past her as if she were invisible, ascending the staircase. However, he paused on the sixth step, caught off guard by her words: "I want you to marry the girl of my choosing."

A chuckle escaped him at her audacity, and he turned to face her, replying, "Marry? Me? To someone of your choice? You must be joking, Mrs. Khurana."

Her expression remained serious as she countered, "I am not joking."

With a playful smile, he inquired, "And what leads you to believe I would consider marriage?" His voice dripped with curiosity and self-assurance.

She took a few steps closer, locking eyes with him as she stated, "Because you owe me a debt from the past, and it is time to repay it." Her tone was determined.

Wahan stepped forward, his demeanor shifting to one of sternness as he replied, "First, I have no memory of owing you anything! If I did, it would suggest a lack of maturity on my part. Second, Mrs. Khurana, enlighten me about this supposed debt, rather than diverting it with else."

He requires no financial support from anyone else. He has reached a level of self-sufficiency where he will never have to beg or rely on anyone for anything in his life. He spends money with abandon, never glancing at the zeros on the bill as they slip away.

With a bitter tone meant to provoke him, she remarked, "You know what you owe from me, yet you act like you don't." He narrowed his eyes at her, and she continued, "As for your maturity, I don't doubt it. Do you truly forget your first startup? While other children were preoccupied with play and studies, you were focused on thinking about business. You're finally showing your mother's colors,"she ended with a chuckle.

The one he despises most is his MOTHER.

He is acutely aware that she is trying to manipulate him, yet he refuses to allow anyone to associate him with her in any manner. He doesn't want her name to remain detached from his identity. She represents the worst nightmare of his life, still haunting him.

His fist tightened, his jaw clenched, and his eyes darkened as he shouted at her, "Do not dare to compare me to her; I will never be like her. And just tell me, what exactly do I owe you? I don’t have the entire night to stand here."

She inhaled deeply and replied, "Five crores, you owe me. Do you remember?"

Tilting his head, he looked at her with annoyance and said, "Are you out of your mind? I was prepared to return the money seven years ago, with triple the amount of your initial assistance, but you refused."

She had helped him a decade ago when his first startup collapsed overnight. He didn't, how did it happen? It was going so well, everything seemed perfect, but then disaster struck. Workers protested against him, partners insulted him, and demanded their money. His business fell into a debt of five crores, an enormous sum for him at that time. No one stepped forward to help him, not even his father, whom he had implored for help. Ultimately, it was Mrs. Khurana, his badi maa who came to help him.

It was not merely a fleeting memory that he had forgotten, but it took time for him to realize that someone he trusted had betrayed him. The trust he once had in people faded completely. From that moment on, he chose to believe in no one and started his business anew, relying solely on his own savings—a prudent choice for a small enterprise, shielded from the prying eyes of others.

In the past, when he sought partnerships, others turned him down due to his previous failures. But now, they are eager to align themselves with him, even pleading to have his name associated with their businesses. His name alone has become identical with success, and he has appear as a leader because he keeps his future plans and strategies to himself.

He was alone this race.

Her voice pulled him from his thoughts, "Yes, I refused, but I also said I would ask you for help in the future, and you agreed. Now, I want you to marry."

He regarded her with a look of bewilderment. "Are you aware of where you stand and what are you asking? I have already made it clear to you and your so-called family that I won't marry. Why do you keep pushing? Don't you understand what 'no' means?"

He descended the stairs, adding, "Simply provide me with your account number, and I will transfer the funds you requested, complete with a hundred percent interest."

It's small amount for him.

Her eyes sparkled with greed, for she was indeed a masterful gold-digger. But, she quickly dismissed the thought, realizing that the financial gain from marriage would far exceed what he was offering.

When she remained silent, he turned to leave, only to be halted by her voice. "I knew it. You are not a man of your word, proving me right once more. You are just like her—"

His temper flared, and he growled in a waring, "I am nothing like her! If you dare to draw that comparison again, I swear, I will ensure that not even your lifeless body leaves this place."

She inhaled sharply, feeling the weight of his sinister presence that seemed to darken the atmosphere around his mansion. His words hung heavily in the air, and his eyes which covered in thick black sheet, forgetting it's natural colour. "I'm a man of my words as people says," He declared, "And regarding your marriage proposal, I'm accepting it."

He paused, taking a deliberate step closer, adding, "However, there will be my conditions attached. I will inform you of the time and date to meet the young lady."

A smile graced her lips, for he was finally consent. But, as he turned to leave, he halted, casting a sidelong glance without meeting her gaze. "Should I catch sight of you or your family anywhere near my properties or possessions,  I will cancel my agreement to marry your desired girl in that very moment. I trust you understand. So, fucking leave this place."

With that, he walked away, leaving her standing there in contemplation before she too made her exit.

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