Page 97 of Drunk On Love

“You think this is just aboutyourwedding?” he hissed. “You humiliated the Randhawa legacy. Do you even know the cost of breaching a marriage alliance with the Singhanias? It wasn’t just billions lost—it was our reputation, our credibility in the industry.”

He leaned forward, his voice dripping venom. “You ran away like a coward, and now I’m cleaning up your mess. The only way to stabilize the company was to offer them something… irreparable.”

Kiara blinked, confusion overtaking her grief. “What do you mean?”

His eyes narrowed. “This disownment isn’t just punishment—it was part of the contractual clause in the revised deal with the Singhanias. They demanded a public and legal severance from you to restore their pride. They wouldn’t even renegotiate unless you were cut off completely.”

Her breath caught, eyes wide. “So… you’re trading me for business?”

“They wanted blood. I gave them your name.”

Her lips quivered, her hands numb as she reached for the pen.

“You think I wanted this?” Jay continued, softer now, but no less cruel. “I had to choose between saving my empire or standing by a daughter who’s done nothing but bring disgrace since the day she was born. You already killed your mother—don’t destroy everything she helped me build.”

Kiara flinched like he’d slapped her. Tears welled in her eyes, but she said nothing. No protests. No arguments. Just silence—the kind that breaks a person from the inside.

I couldn’t breathe.

“Sign it,” he said.

She looked at the pen, then at him. Her hand trembled violently as she held it over the page.

And then—she signed.

Each stroke felt like watching someone carve away a part of their soul.

The moment the ink dried, the lawyers snapped the file shut and exited. Mr. Randhawa stood, fixing his cufflinks with the calm satisfaction of a man who had just completed a business deal—not destroyed his daughter.

He paused at the door. “And Kiara…” he said without looking back, “… don’t bother showing up at your grandmother’s birthday. It’s forfamilyonly.”

Then he left—Just like that.

The door closed behind him with a brutal finality.

And all I could do was grip the chair, my knuckles white, jaw clenched, holding back every instinct to chase after the man who had just broken her.

Kiara sat still as if her body had forgotten how to move. Her shoulders trembled, her eyes hollow and unfocused, staring at where her father used to sit, as if hoping it had all been a nightmare.

But it wasn’t.

I took a step toward her, but she stood up, her movements rigid, like she was holding herself together by sheer force of will. “Can we have dinner some other day?”

“Kiara,” I called softly, as I stepped closer, my heart breaking at the sight of her. “Look at me.”

She hesitated, her shoulders stiff, and slowly turned. Her eyes met mine—shattered and distant. “I am sorry…I need to leave…” She whispered, her voice cracking.

I shook my head firmly and closed the remaining distance between us. “You are coming with me.”

She didn’t resist as I guided her out of the room. She kept her gaze fixed on the floor. I led her through the quiet hallway and into the elevator.

“Where are we going?” She finally asked.

“Somewhere you can breathe.” I helped her into the passenger seat of my car and buckled her seatbelt when I noticed her hands were still trembling. She didn’t protest, just watched me with an unreadable expression as I settled into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

We drove in silence for a while, the city lights blurring past us. I stole glances at her from the corner of my eye. She stared out the window, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her dress.

Since the day I met her, I’ve noticed it—her instinct to shut down whenever emotions overwhelm her. It’s like she’s built walls so high and strong that no one could possibly get through. She either goes silent or walks away altogether.