Page 105
Story: The Deceit
Zane adjusts his shirt, his gaze hard.
“You’ll regret this, breaking into my home and assaulting me like this,” he says, his voice venomous, and then he turns on his heel and walks away.
Simran stands beside me, her face a mask of fury, but my mind is already racing ahead. Maybe… just maybe I might have been wrong about Zane being our masked man. I’ll wait for Abhay to find out more about that CCTV footage Zane provided before jumping to conclusions.
“How could you do this? That too, behind my back?” Simran yells, her voice filled with disbelief. “You broke into Zane’s apartment? So, this was what you were hiding from me the past few days?”
“Simran…” I reach for her arm, but she shrugs it off and steps back.
“Don’t.” Her eyes are filled with hurt and disappointment. “You can’t just bulldoze through people’s lives like this, Vishnu. Not everyone is your enemy.”
I don’t respond. God! What should’ve been the happiest day of our lives has turned into a mess, wherein I’ve managed to create a rift between my wife and her friend, her business partner.
But more than the guilt, I am worried about one thing. If we’ve been looking in the wrong direction all this time, then we’re more vulnerable than ever now. Whoever is behind this is clever enough to lead us on a wild goose chase, while he silently hiding in the shadows and watching us from the darkness.
CHAPTER 27
SIMRAN
I storm to the car, my heels clicking against the pavement like thunderclaps, echoing my rage.
“Take me home,” I say to Abhay, my voice tight with anger.
He hesitates, his eyes flicking over my shoulder to Vishnu, who’s trailing a few steps behind, and my patience snaps. “I don’t want him in my car. Either drive me home, or I’m calling a cab.”
Vishnu’s jaw tightens as he silently gestures for Abhay to go ahead. Of course, I think bitterly, he has more important things to do—like investigating my friends and destroying my business relationships with his caveman attitude and paranoid behaviour. In one swoop, he’s managed to drive away both a friend and a valuable business associate.
As Abhay starts the car, I throw one last glare at Vishnu before getting inside. The door slams shut, cutting off his imposing figure from my view. My chest rises and falls, anger and frustration twisting my insides. How dare he ruin our wedding day like this?
Just last night, I thought everything had finally fallen into place between Vishnu and me—that we’d finally found some balance, some semblance of a partnership after everything we’ve been through. And now this.
My phone keeps buzzing with congratulatory messages and wedding wishes, each one feeling like a mockery now. How can I celebrate when I’m too busy worrying about the business implications if Zane really withdraws as our fashion consultant?
The moment we reach home, I head straight inside, my mood as dark as the evening sky. Veer is thankfully asleep, oblivious to the tension that’s hanging in the air. Claire gives me a knowing look, her subtle attempt at cheering me up falling flat against my mood.
The hours drag by with no sign of Vishnu. I know exactly what he’s doing—meticulously verifying every piece of evidence Zane provided, probably now realising that his suspicions were dumb and totally baseless. But the damage is already done. My business partnership is in ruins.
It’s late when Vishnu finally returns home. He’s on a call, his Bluetooth earpiece barely disguising the seriousness of his conversation. Veer, however, doesn’t care about his father’s stern demeanour. He crawls across his playmat toward Vishnu, his chubby arms reaching up for him. Even though Vishnu’s on a call, he scoops up our son and plants a kiss on his forehead before continuing his conversation. The sight, usually one that would soften my heart, only adds to my frustration. How can he be so tender with Veer yet so maddeningly overbearing with me?
I busy myself with finishing the last of my chores, trying to ignore the romantic ambience Claire has created in our bedroom despite my earlier protests. Scented candles flicker softly in the room, and rose petals are scattered all across the bed. The lighting is dimmed to create a cosy, intimate glow. But I’ve already decided—he won’t be touching me tonight, let alone sleeping beside me. After ruining our wedding day, I’m determined to make him regret picking today of all days to destroy my mood and my business relationships.
I change into the least appealing sleepwear I own—an oversized, basic button-up cotton shirt and loose pyjamas. There’s nothing remotely sexy about it. Let him take that as a sign of where he stands tonight. He’s still on the phone, talking to who I think is his dad, discussing tomorrow’s flight to India. His eyes keep finding me as he talks, trailing over my deliberately unsexy choice of sleepwear. I don’t care. Right now, I’m too angry and too hurt by his actions.
Yet somehow, despite my intentionally dowdy appearance, his gaze burns with desire as he walks over with Veer still in his arms.
“Dad wants to speak to you,” he says, holding out his phone.
I take the phone from his hand and immediately step away, needing a moment to compose myself before speaking with my new father-in-law. Pratap Walia’s warm congratulations make me wonder if he knows how his son has managed to ruin this day for me. I accept his wishes graciously, but when he mentions how excited he is to see us in India, my stomach tightens. If today’s drama is any indication of what awaits me there, I’m not sure how I’ll handle it.
When the call ends, I deliberately place his phone on the table instead of handing it back to him. I take Veer from his arms, focusing all my attention on our son.
“Time for bed, little one,” I say to my son, heading toward my bedroom.Our bedroom.
“Simran,” Vishnu calls me from behind.
“I don’t want to hear it,” I cut him off, not even sparing him a glance. “Just... don’t.”
His presence looms behind me but he doesn’t push further. Good. Let him stew in the silence of my anger. Tonight, he should realise that actions have consequences, even for Vishnu Walia.
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