Page 4 of When Love Trespassed

Raichand Villa

Evening had settled over Serene Meadows, casting golden hues over the manicured lawns and winding pathways.

The air smelled of fresh earth and blooming marigolds as Nandini made her way downstairs, still shaking off the remnants of her afternoon nap.

The short rest had been much needed after her eventful morning—returning home, reuniting with her grandpa, and reliving memories she hadn’t realised she had missed so much.

And now, sitting in the Raichand Villa’s warm, familiar kitchen, she was being interrogated by Lakshmi Aunty.

Aunty cornered her, wielding a plate of freshly made parathas like a shield.

“You’ve gotten too thin, Nandini. Didn’t you say you used to cook for yourself in Mumbai? Even home-cooked food didn’t suit you there, or was it the weather?”

Nandini leaned against the counter, stealthily reaching for a hot paratha.

“The Mumbai weather was fine, Lakshmi Aunty. The startup life just… didn’t leave much time for eating.”

“Or sleeping, from the looks of it.” Lakshmi Aunty’s shrewd eyes missed nothing. “Your daadu told me about the investors.”

“They changed their minds at the last minute,” Nandini murmured, forcing a brightness into her voice that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“But I’m sure I’ll find a way to come out of this trouble!

Because hey, I’m Nandini Raichand, Keshav Raichand’s super-intelligent granddaughter.

If I don’t put my intelligent mind to work and get some stellar ideas for my startup, who will? ”

Lakshmi Aunty gave her a fond but sceptical look before handing her a glass of water.

“Yes, but first, eat something before you collapse in the middle of your brainstorming.”

Before Nandini could respond, a sharp voice from outside interrupted their conversation.

“Mr. Raichand, this is becoming ridiculous.”

Aunty clucked her tongue. “And so it begins. Every day, same argument, different words.”

Curious, Nandini stepped into the spacious living room, leading to the open garden of their villa, where the old mango tree stood tall at the boundary between the two properties. And there he was!

Their neighbour, unfortunately, clothed now in a crisp business suit that did nothing to diminish his impact, stood at the property line.

Even from here, his presence commanded attention.

His broad shoulders pulled his jacket tautly, hinting at the sculpted chest beneath, and his stance spoke of boardrooms and billion-dollar decisions.

Her grandfather stood across from him, equally unbothered, equally stubborn.

Even though she had only been back for a short time, she had wasted no time in finding out their neighbour’s name from her grandpa and Lakshmi Aunty. How could she not? Especially after that close encounter with him at the pool, where he had been doing push-ups, shirtless !

And so, she finally got to know his name— Shaurya Ahuja.

Classy.

Shaurya meant valour, bravery, which oddly suited him. And he definitely didn’t look 35 years old. The man looked well within his 30s—toned, irresistible, and annoyingly fit for someone who was supposedly a workaholic.

“What is ridiculous? Those branches have been crossing the property line for decades,” Grandpa retorted, gesturing at the old mango tree. “Long before you bought this place.”

“And they haven’t stopped dropping leaves and fruit into my pool ever since then.” Shaurya’s voice stayed measured, but his ticking jaw gave him away. “I’ve asked politely—”

“Politely?” Her grandfather scoffed. “You sent a legal notice!”

“After you ignored three verbal requests.”

“You know my late wife planted that tree!”

For a brief moment, something flickered in Shaurya’s eyes, like a crack in the corporate armour, but it vanished almost instantly. “I respect that, sir. But sentiment doesn’t change property laws.”

Grandpa muttered something under his breath, but it was loud enough to be heard.

“These new-money people. No respect for heritage. Everything must be neat and clean and soulless, like their glass towers.”

Nandini’s eyes flickered to Shaurya’s shoulders, which tensed ever so slightly before he relaxed them with visible effort.

Control . She realised everything about him screamed carefully maintained control. The man she’d seen earlier in the afternoon— shirtless , pushing himself to his limits, raw, powerful—was nowhere to be seen now. This Shaurya Ahuja looked like someone who fought for what he wanted. And won.

“This isn’t about heritage, Mr. Raichand.

It’s about basic property rights. I paid a premium for a home with a private pool, one that is constantly littered with leaves and rotting fruit,” he retorted.

“If your sentimentality is more important than my right to a clean living space, then maybe I should start charging you for pool maintenance.”

Grandpa let out a sarcastic laugh. “Oh, so now you’ll be sending me bills for your pool? What’s next? A fine every time the wind blows in your direction?”

Shaurya’s expression darkened. “I’m only asking for a reasonable solution. Trim the branches that extend into my property. That’s all.”

Grandpa squared his shoulders stiffly. “And what if I refuse?”

“Then I’ll escalate this further… legally.” He tried to threaten. “And I guarantee, Mr. Raichand, you won’t like the outcome.”

Nandini felt a sudden protective flare rise in her chest. For the first time, she saw what her grandpa meant when he called Shaurya ruthless.

After a brief moment, Grandpa finally relented—kind of. “I’ll see what my gardener has to say about this and decide after that.” His tone made it clear that he wasn’t giving in, just agreeing for now while still holding his ground.

Shaurya nodded curtly before his gaze swept behind her grandfather and locked with Nandini’s.

The moment his eyes met hers, a flicker of recognition passed through them.

She saw the shift in his expression, the way his brows drew together slightly as if piecing together a puzzle he should have solved earlier.

Now he knew for sure that she wasn’t just some random stranger trespassing on the patio of his villa this morning, the one who had caught him mid push-up, shirtless and unaware. That she wasn’t just some curious onlooker but his neighbour.

More than that—she was Keshav Raichand’s granddaughter.

His lips pressed into a firm line, as if suppressing a reaction, but his eyes lingered for a second longer than necessary. And for one endless moment, she forgot how to breathe. Up close, his eyes weren’t just intense; they were downright magnetic.

He looked away first and strode toward his car where a driver was waiting for him. The steel and glass of his Audi mirrored his demeanour—sleek, expensive, and deliberately intimidating.

Grandpa let out a huff, turning back toward Nandini, shaking his head. “Did you see that, beta? This is how it always is. That man is—” He waved a dismissive hand in the air, grumbling, “These new rich people. They buy their way into old neighbourhoods and think they can erase all the history.”

Nandini linked her arm through his. “But seriously, Daadu… maybe we could trim the branches a little? Just enough to—”

“To give in?” He patted her hand. “Beta, some things are worth fighting for. Even small things. Especially small things.”

With that, he turned and walked back inside.

Nandini turned and watched Shaurya drive away. She didn’t like the way he had spoken to her grandfather. If nothing else, he could have at least considered Grandpa’s age and lowered his voice. Instead, he had argued as if they were equals in a boardroom debate.

Probably her grandpa was right. They wouldn’t bend to his demands.

“Arrogant,” Nandini muttered under her breath, “But... oh, so handsome.”

She bit her lip, watching his car disappear through the gates, and added begrudgingly, “It’s so unfair. Gorgeous shouldn’t be allowed to come in the same package as insufferable.”

“Don’t waste your thoughts, beti,” Lakshmi Aunty’s voice made her jump. “That one’s still bleeding from a divorce.”

Divorce?

“I wasn’t—” she stuttered. “I mean… I was just wondering why he even bought a house here in Serene Meadows. He doesn’t exactly seem like the kind of man who’d enjoy quiet suburban life.”

Aunty hummed knowingly. “Meera, one of his staff members mentioned that he works twenty hours a day. Never smiles. And if the gossip is true, he bought this villa just to spite his ex-wife. She wanted to settle down here after the divorce, so he bought it before she could.”

Nandini blinked. Spite.

That explained some of the darkness she’d glimpsed in his expression. Though, it didn’t quite explain why he was working out half-naked in the afternoon, in weather cold enough to freeze Delhi’s fountains.

“He wasn’t always like this,” Lakshmi Aunty continued. “When he first bought the place, he was... polite. Distant, but polite. Then, when he started noticing the leaves and fruits falling into his pool, he spoke to your daadu, asking him to cut down the tree...”

“And?” Nandini prompted.

“And that’s when your daadu went into a full-blown verbal war with him.”

Nandini knew how much this tree meant to her grandpa, so it was obvious that if anyone suggested cutting it down, he wouldn’t tolerate it.

Lakshmi Aunty went on, “Then came the legal notices. The complaints started becoming petty—more about ego than the actual issue. It was as if they both had to prove something.”

She absorbed this, her protective instincts kicking in. Her grandfather had his flaws, his stubbornness chief among them. But he didn’t deserve to spend his retirement fighting ridiculous property battles.

And yet, here they were.

She set her jaw.

From now on, she wouldn’t let Shaurya bully her grandpa.

Even if it meant going to war with a man who looked like he’d been carved from granite and cursed with the kind of beauty that commanded boardrooms… and tempted sin.