Page 137 of Wasted Grace

And for the past however many minutes, Advik has come to the same conclusion.

“We will find the perfect trap—”

“No,” Advik snaps, jumping up from his bed.

He walks over to me but his eyes fail to share my panic.

Look at me!

He doesn’t.

“I will... meet that CBI guy,” his jaw clenches. “You will be there. As my protection. And... we will get this shit over with.”

I watch him as he struggles for words that sound diplomatic enough. But I also realize that he doesn’t understand the lengths I’m willing to go—to protect his stupid ass.

“No,” I whisper—causing his beautiful eyes to finally land on me.

He’s frowning but I don’t want him to be conflicted about this.

“We will give ourselves another... week, Vik. Maybetwo. But we’re not trapping Mehul this way. You won’t be—”

“Greesha...” he cuts me off with a plea. “Viraj will convinceDevto do it instead. Just...let me.”

My eyes bug out. “He said that?”

Advik gives me a sad smile. “He... implied that, baby.”

I begin to shake my head, but my panic falters as he steps closer. I don’t feel like I’m being caged. Instead, I feelcocooned. Comforted. And it’sterrifying.

“Dev can’t do this, Gree. And I know he’ll want to—especially if Viraj says the things he did to me,” he says, his hand resting lightly on my waist—hesitant. And I know why he’s saying that. But I can’t seem to find a better reason to refute his assertion.

“I heard you both,” he adds. “I heardeverything. And Viraj might not care about those kids—butIdo. You do, too.”

My eyes squeeze shut. He’s right. I do fucking care. But tell that to my heart that’s beating too loudly at the possibility of risking Advik’s life to save them somehow.

“I can do this.” He steps impossibly close—resting his forehead on mine.

I move my head side to side. “Youcan’t. It’s meant to be a trap so you will actually have to befully exposedto Mehul’s people. I can’t... I won’t be able to properly p-protect you.”

His grip tightens on my waist at my fumble. Then he slowly moves his hands upward—caressing my arms and then settling on my cheeks. “It’ll be fine. I trust you.”

“No,” I try to summon my authoritative voice but it falls short. Instead it comes out as a plea.What the fuck is he doing to me?

He smirks weakly. “What—Idon’ttrust you? Baby,I do. I trust you with everything...”

He knows that’s not what I meant but he continues the brutal assault to my heart with his next words.

“With my heart.” He places a gentle kiss on my forehead. “With my love.” He kisses my scar. “I trust you.” And with the softest peck to my lips, he says, “With mylife.”

I groan impatiently—almost as if I wanted to deepen the kiss when heretreatedinstead. I rest my hands on his chest, not to shove him away—but to feel the erratic rhythm of his heartbeat. His breath warm on my lips.

My hands clutch his t-shirt tightly. “You... you’re being a self-sacrificing moron again. I won’t let you do this.”

Tears form at his next words. “Oh meri Greesha, I know I can’t stop you. But I’m not being careless with my life. Not like last time.” (Oh my Greesha)

Last time...

When he tried to kill himself? Or when he took a bullet for me? Regardless of what he meant, he’s still willing to walk into danger. No—runinto it.