DAY 5

******

Simran

******

I was bored.

Did I try hitting my husband with a coconut? Yes, I did.

Did I talk to Tharki? Yes, I did.

Did I dance my heart out in the ballet room? Yes, I did.

Did I go through the ingredients needed for the black magic recipe? Yes, I did.

Still, I was bored.

Not only was I bored, but a little concerned, too. I shouldn't have been, yet the thought that Kiaan might not have eaten anything kept bothering me.

Maybe he eats out every day and doesn't tell me. That thought crossed my mind more than once. But the way the charm was slipping from his face, the way he had begun to look pale, that was harder to ignore. There was no way he was faking it.

I remembered Shayla praising him, telling me he hadn't eaten because he was fasting for my long life. She was so certain; she'd even heard it from Kiaan's assistant that he hadn't touched food in the office either. I didn't know how she was in touch with his assistant, and really, why should I care? Maybe she worked for him, too. But Shayla wasn't someone easily fooled, and I believed she was right.

And now, the guilt was eating me alive. So what if he was a beast? I wasn't a monster like him. I couldn't play unfairly.

I knew I had to make sure he ate something, so I decided I'd cook for him. But there were still hours before nightfall, and he usually came home late these days. Something about a merger of another company into his was keeping him long at his office. He'd mentioned it last night, while feeding me dinner. I didn't want his health to deteriorate. The thought gnawed at me as I paced in my room with an anxious mind, until a knock on the door interrupted me and my thoughts.

"Come in."

Shayla stepped inside, holding out a card.

"Ma'am, I found this on the couch."

I took it. It was Kiaan's office access card.

"He left it?"

She nodded, then walked out.

I stared at the pass in my hand, and an idea lit up in my head. A reckless, chaotic idea.

Without hesitation, I pulled up a picture I had saved, one I had planned to use against my husband someday, and forwarded it to Namit jiju. Then I called him, because I needed his help in executing the idea that had just bloomed.

"Hey, Simmi..." he greeted cheerfully the moment he picked up.

"Hi, jiju. I sent you a picture. Could you have it printed on a T-shirt and deliver it to me within an hour? Is that possible?"

"Yeah, of course. Let me just take a look..."

A beat later, laughter spilled through the line.

"What...what is this...?" he managed between laughs.

"It's a surprise for my husband," I said, unable to hide my excitement.

"What's making you laugh? Show me too..." I heard Di's voice, and that's when I realized neither of them was at work. Of course, Namit jiju had shown her the picture as well.

"Simmi, are you sure about this?" Di asked, her voice bubbling with laughter.

"Yes, Di. Isn't the gift perfect?"

"More like shocking..." Jiju muttered.

"Oh, come on. This looks amazing," Di said, siding with me instantly.

Jiju sighed, still amused. "Yeah, yeah...it's perfect. I'll have it delivered in an hour."

"Thank you!" I was so thrilled I almost broke into a dance step.

I told him about the other things I needed, and luckily, he promised to arrange them all, no matter how weird they sounded. He assured me they'd be at my place in less than an hour.

Everything was planned and falling into place. All that was left was cooking a delicious meal. It was time I paid a visit to my husband... OOPS! I meant my grandson.

******

Kiaan

******

"Safety Nets have potential, but potential without structure collapses. Once the merger is sealed, Lampyris Estates will absorb their operations and streamline their safety technology into our projects." Before the final deal closing with the Marshalls, I wanted everything airtight.

"I'll arrange a site visit today. We'll verify their operational setup against what they've presented," Emily, our COO, said.

"Good. No assumptions, let's confirm their groundwork matches their pitch."

The Marshalls might have had a reputation for solid ethics, but I had seen too many people sell their morals for a little extra money. I wasn't the kind to hand out the benefit of the doubt to anyone.

"I'll focus on their systems integration, and whether their protocols actually meet real estate site standards," Liam, our head of security and compliance, added.

"Exactly. Emily and Liam, you'll handle the visit. I want detailed feedback on scalability," I ordered.

Then I turned to Neil, our PR head. "Meanwhile, draft the press release. I'll review the final version before it goes out next week. Have the full package on my desk by the end of the day."

He nodded in response. The purpose of the meeting was served, and we were just wrapping up when a knock sounded at the door.

"Come in," I said.

Jonathan, my assistant, stepped in. He looked unusually tense.

"Let's get on with our respective work," I said, adjourning the meeting. The conference room emptied until only Jonathan and I were left.

He didn't waste a second then and informed me, "There's a situation out there."

"What situation?"

"Your grandma."

I stared at him. He had to be on some really strong drugs to talk nonsense this early.

"I don't have a grandma," I reminded him flatly.

"I know, sir. But there's a woman in the building claiming to be your grandmother."

"Claiming?" My jaw tightened. "And security was doing what exactly while she walked in?"

Jonathan only shrugged.

I shot him a look of pure disdain. Probably another desperate stunt by someone who wanted me to marry the eligible daughter of their family. It wouldn't be the first time someone's family member tried to reach me at work, pushing their daughter, granddaughter, sister, whatever, into my orbit, my life. Clients got easy access to the premises, sure. And clearly, someone had lied their way in, waving the title of grandmother like a ticket.

"The whole damn world knows my grandmother is dead," I said, pushing myself off the chair.

"She has proof, sir. And she...knows a lot about you. You should probably handle it."

For a second, I wondered why I even bothered hiring people when I ended up doing their jobs. Normally, I would have ripped him apart for incompetence. But I didn't.

Strangely, I decided to play against my character, as if proving something. Maybe to myself, maybe to my wife. I still remember how boldly my wife called me out two nights ago for not treating the staff well. She had been talking about the house help, but here I was being nice to everyone out there, stretching the courtesy a little.

And by courtesy, I meant not firing Jonathan or going full Hulk on him.

So now, I was en route to the chaos scene with my useless assistant trailing behind, ready to do his job for him.

We took the lift down to the third floor. The doors hadn't even opened fully before the sound hit me, laughter, clapping, a wave of noise far too cheerful for a weekday. I racked my brain for any such event that was supposed to take place. HR hadn't sent any mail about a stand-up comedian visiting the office, yet the people were laughing like crazy.

The moment we stepped out, I knew something was wrong. My office looked like a disheveled zoo.

Employees weren't at their desks, not that I cared, as long as deadlines were met, but instead they were playing volleyball. With a coconut.

And in the middle of it all sat a woman in a wheelchair, hair glossy-white like a wig, oversized, round glasses swallowing her face. I didn't recognize her. One of my employees said something to her, she nodded eagerly, and then she spun her wheelchair in dizzying circles.

What the fuck.

Normal people twirled on their feet; that lady had her wheelchair twirled.

The crowd cheered. They clapped. Even Jonathan. Until my glare froze him mid-applause. He gulped in fear and stood quietly beside me now.

No one else had noticed me yet. That woman had to be a professional con artist, as no one ever entered my building without slipping through layers of security. She had to be really good at her job.

"Call security," I muttered to Jonathan, striding forward.

But the closer I got, the sharper her face came into focus, and with it, my anger evaporated into pure shock.

It wasn't a stranger.
It was my woman.
It was My Wife.

She was dressed in a black long skirt and a white T-shirt. And on that tee, something was printed.

No way.

Either I had suddenly gone half-blind with cataracts or I was hallucinating, because this couldn't be real.

"Tell me there's nothing printed on her tee," I said to Jonathan.

"I can't lie, sir," he replied.

My temples throbbed. I pressed them, fighting the ache. My wife was bold, audacious, but this? This was insanity. She had crossed every limit there to be.

The words blazed across her chest in bold black letters, perfectly positioned above her breasts:

KIAAN'S PROPERTY.

Why would she wear something like that to my office? For a second, amusement cracked through my irritation. I shook my head, struggling to stifle a smile.

What the hell was wrong with her?

Something was definitely wrong with the wiring in her brain. The sight of everyone watching her, clapping for her chaos, wasn't just maddening; it was making me jealous. I hated how everyone could see her chaos when I should have been the only witness.

"I don't like the aesthetic of your desk, change it," she said to one of the employees and hit his back with a stick she had been carrying. It was a light impact, though, and the employee did not seem bothered at all. She was going around, hitting people, and offering them a coconut.

She then wheeled the wheelchair to the next desk, where a female employee was.

"Good boobs, are they real?" I closed my eyes in embarrassment. But could it just go away like that? No, it would not.

"Of course..." the employee replied, blushing.

Why would she blush?

I wished it could be a dream, a nightmare, a hallucination, but it was not. I had to stop my little hellion before she made any more mess. I was fine with her mess, but the world was cruel. And even if the world was fine with it, I was not okay with them witnessing her real self. I was too territorial for her liking, but I did not care.

"Sir, I have called the security. They will be here in a few seconds," Jonathan caught my attention.

"Tell them to go back," I ordered with clenched teeth.

"Is she really your grandmother?"

"She is... uh... related..." That's all I replied, and then I walked ahead, now catching the attention of my other employees.

"Granny..." I called. She turned to me and then grinned. She was wearing crooked teeth as well. Perfect! Just perfect!

"Grandson..." She hopped off the chair and came running to me.

Everyone's eyes widened, and I held her before she could fall. She really was way too reckless.

"Granny, you forgot your wheelchair," I mumbled, giving her a fake smile. She glanced around at everyone staring at her and then started with her act.

"Oh, my knees!" She bent and pressed one of her knees.

"I could not contain my excitement seeing you, son." I sighed, shaking my head.

Jonathan brought the wheelchair instantly, and I pushed her gently onto it. And then she spanked me. She hit me with her stick on my ass. Mortified but pretending to be proud and arrogant, I pushed the wheelchair into my cabin while she waved at everyone. Worse, they waved at her back gleefully.

******

"What the fuck was that out there?" I confronted her the moment we stepped inside my cabin. I didn't yell at her, but I couldn't hide my irritation either.

"And how did you even get in?"

"You forgot this." She showed me the access card I forgot at home and then got out of the wheelchair. She was carrying a bag that had been tucked safely in the wheelchair's storage area. She brought it to my desk and pulled something out of it.

I was far too annoyed to focus on that.

"I was tolerating everything. I didn't have any issue, but you went overboard this time. Do you have any clue what you've done? Do you have..." The words died in my mouth when the aroma of delicious food reached my nostrils. She had just pulled out a lunchbox from inside the bag. The box wasn't even open yet, and the room was already filled with such a good aroma that my mouth watered.

"You can speak later. First, have your lunch. It won't taste very good if it gets cold."

"You got me lunch?" I asked, surprised, worried, and wondering what it was this time.

Ketchup pulao? Noodle cake? Or something even more terrible.

But the aroma narrated a very different tale compared to my imagination.

"Yes, surprising, isn't it? Even I'm surprised that I got you lunch. But I didn't have a choice. I cooked extra, and I didn't want it to go to waste."

She still couldn't lie to me. Hands in my pockets, I took leisurely steps toward her.

"You should have done charity," I said casually.

"I did. But still some was left, so then I thought of you ... at the very, very end."

She wasn't meeting my eyes. My lips curved. She really thought I or anyone would believe that. It didn't matter if she thought of me at the very end. What mattered was that she thought of me. That I was occupying her head more than she wanted me to know.

She turned to me now, curiosity bubbling in her eyes.

"Why can't you tell me why we got married?"

I took off her glasses and set them aside on the table.

"You think you can take the truth?"

"Right. I can marry you, but I can't take the truth. I can be your wife, but you can't fulfill the desires of a wife. How convenient and hypocritical of you." I ignored what she said. If I had paid attention to it, I would have lost control. And Kiaan Chauhan does not lose his control.

"I've already texted Enzo. He'll get you back home safely."

She pulled off the wig and crooked teeth, clearly irritated, whether at me or at the discomfort of what she wore, I couldn't tell. Then she crossed her arms.

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me the truth."

I sighed. I wasn't ready for that talk now. I knew she was impatient, but I couldn't be reckless when it came to her.

"I need two more days."

"Will you tell me everything after that?"

"No. But I won't keep you in the dark either."

Two more days...that was the time I needed to find something about Marco Polo. Then I could start telling her everything. Bit by bit. I knew she was too fragile, too sensitive to take it all at once.

"What's that supposed to mean now?" Her annoyance grew sharper.

"A week from now, we'll have our reception. I'll start to unravel myself then..."

******

Simran

******

It appeared he struggled to even say that. And I itched to reply that he didn't have to if he was uncomfortable. I was calling him a hypocrite, but I was acting like one myself, for keeping his comfort above mine when all I needed was the truth.

"Fine, I will agree... but...."

"But?" He raised his brows.

"I want you to hire a private investigator for me, and you will have to pay. No, wait, I will find an investigator, and you will pay." I had been researching private investigators who could help me find my mother's killer. The good ones were way too costly, and I couldn't afford them. But I also didn't shy away from asking for help from my husband, no matter what our equation was. I could either keep my pride above all else, or I could choose my need to get justice for my mother. So I decided to keep my pride in my pocket instead and asked for his help.

"Why do you need an investigator?"

"Well, dear husband, I will start unravelling myself on the day of our reception," I repeated what he had said. If he could delay, then why couldn't I? I wouldn't tell him anything until he started talking. I thought he would pester me for an answer and that, in the end, I would have to tell him. But something strange happened.

He smiled.

A gorgeous, beautiful smile appeared on his face.

My heart skipped a beat, and then it skipped multiple beats altogether.

Why would he smile like that?

He started covering whatever distance we had between us until there was no space left. He caged me between himself and the desk of his cabin. His hands pressed against the desk on either side of me, making the space feel really compact. He bent down, closer to my face.

"You don't have to unravel yourself. I know everything," he murmured.

"Huh? Liar." He really didn't know much, but he loved bragging. I knew he didn't know much.

"I know so much that I can tell you used Namit's help to get this hideous tee printed and everything arranged. I know so much that I can tell you your guilt made you cook for me. I know you so much that I can tell you I am not the last person on your mind; rather, I am the only one on your mind these days. And that fact scares you."

I evaded his gaze. There was too much fire in his eyes, and it felt like it would consume me. He was right when he said he knew everything; he actually did.

"You don't know me at all," I mumbled. He tucked two fingers under my chin and made me look at him.

"I am the only one who does."

My eyes started clouding with tears, not because I was in pain, but because I was feeling things I had forbidden myself to feel. He stared at me so gently that I was on the verge of sobbing. How could he make me so vulnerable with just one look?

"Stop taking so much pride in yourself; it makes you look arrogant." My voice came out softer than I intended. I wanted flames in my words, but they came out soothing instead.

"Give me a chance, firefly."

"Married me without my will and now asking for a chance?"

"You hid yourself in my arms during the pheras, and now you're pretending you don't want me?"

"I... I didn't have a choice during the pheras. Besides, you forced me to marry you."

"If I were always that powerful, then how come you are ruling me now, huh?"

We were actually having a conversation that made sense, even if only somewhat. I had never imagined a day like this would come, but it had. I felt dizzy. His closeness was affecting me too much. I couldn't take the intensity, and a tear slipped out of my eye. He didn't let it fall further; his thumb pressed lightly at the corner of my eye.

"I don't know you. I thought I did, but I was wrong. I don't know anything. I don't know whether it's your plan to wreck me emotionally and hurt me physically, or not. I don't know why you let me hurt you. I don't know anything about you, and that sucks. Not knowing sucks."

His thumb caressed my cheekbone. My body was on fire now.

"Still better than knowing too much too soon. It kills."

My head had begun to throb. For the first time, it was me who chose not to ask him anything anymore, because I just wanted some peace, some calm.

"I want to go back home," I mumbled.

"Okay." He stepped back just like that. A wave of cold air hit me, and my heartbeat began to steady. I knew if I stayed there any longer, I would die.

"Take those coconuts or whatever shit you distributed back with you," he said. We were back to being our normal selves, chaotic, hating each other's guts.

Hated? I wasn't sure about that anymore. Now, I didn't think either of us really hated the other.

"No. I don't want your employees unarmed when working with you. I want them to hit you. At least someone's shot would work."

He rolled his eyes, and then Enzo appeared barely a minute later. I put on the wig and the rest of my disguise again before settling back into the wheelchair. Enzo pushed me to the door, and I turned around.

"Bye, grandson..." I waved at him.

"BYE. GRANNY." He replied in a clipped tone.

But the humor and banter between us carried something else, too. Not sure what. Or maybe I knew, I just didn't want to acknowledge it.

I was on my way back home when I received a text from Niti. A sequence of laughing emojis. Of course, Di or Jiju must have told her about the tee.

Nitya → I really wanna see you in that tee.
Simran → Where are you? At your workplace?
Nitya → Yes, why?
Simran → I'm close. Let's grab lunch at the café nearby in ten minutes.
Nitya → Excited!! See ya.

I had Enzo stop at the café near Niti's office. While I waited for her, I replayed my conversation with Kiaan in the office again and again. Something had shifted between us. And while I was waiting for him to unravel himself, I was scared, scared of what I would see, or whether I would still be sane after that.

******

Hi Lovelies,

I hope you all are doing well. 🤗

I really want to start their romance era, which is going to be way too wild, wilder than the other aces, but I have some important chapters to upload before that .🥹

And no, this small, vulnerable sequence is not going to bring them closer. But it kind of paved the way for Simran's thoughts to read between the lines. Hope she does. 🤞

The next chapter finally tells us what happened between Kiaan and Simran that made her hate him. 🥹

Do share your views about the chapter. It would mean a lot. ❤️

Thanks,

Shrishtee