Royal Vs Rebel (Royal #2: Book 1)

31

-• word play •-

Yuvraaj Singh Chauhan

What's so exciting about your ex coming to meet you?

Any other day, nothing, perhaps even a nightmare.

But tonight?

Oh no, tonight is special. Tonight is about me winning and her losing. This night stands as a witness to her coming to me, at the same place she had once left me bleeding, stating she never wishes to cross paths with me again. Who would have thought the ruined architecture would actually have something so beautiful to offer? There's this mad zeal flowing inside me, I hadn't felt so alive in years, as if I'm thriving through the chaos she's surrounded by.

"Come on," I nod over my shoulder, splaying my arm open in the direction of my office. She steps out of the elevator, cautious golden eyes surveying the empty, dark floor, and then coming to rest on me.

"Were you working this late or were you waiting for me?" She asks as I lead her to my office.

I push the door open in her stead. "Waiting for you."

She stops at the threshold, eyes locking with mine and we both pause. She looks stunned that I answered in a straightforward manner. I find it amusing that something so insignificant can catch her off-guard. It's eleven in the night. Why would I be at the office so late for any other reason? I can work from home. I'm the boss.

"I can't tell whether you're a psycho or just obsessed," she murmurs.

"When it comes to you?" I lean in, she jolts back. Licking the corner of my lips, I release a wicked chuckle, "both."

"Why? Because you can't see me happy?" She gazes up at me softly. "Just so you are aware, I'm not. I wasn't ever. So unless you want me to sell you my soul, I've nothing else to offer."

"Any part of you, Sara, I'm willing to buy." I reply. Her gaze flickers away, she fidgets in her place. Long, slender fingers that once fisted my hair now wringing nervously. "Come inside, we shall speak comfortably about what part of you you're willing to sell to me," she follows me inside the office. I close the door. Lock it. The usual subtle click now loud in the silent room. It echos. Her eyes dart to my hand on the knob. I let go and motion the same towards the lounge area.

She sinks into the velvet sofa, holding her purse on her lap, the action guarded, like she's surmounting herself and her belongings in a closed space she can easily get out of if something goes wrong.

Settling into the plush sofa chair adjacent to her, I cross my legs and lean back, my right arm bracing the arm rest. I roll the wedding band around my finger. She steals a glimpse of it, then looks away.

"Why are you still wearing it?"

I splay my fingers apart, looking at the gold band nestled securely around my ring finger. Fisting my hand, I drop it, it hangs off the end of the armrest. "I took it off after our divorce went through."

"Then why wear it now?" She meets my eyes.

"Ladies regarded my empty fingers as an invitation to flirt with me."

She rolls her eyes. "And saying no was definitely harder than deceiving someone into believing you're married."

I purse my lips together. "Why deceive? I was making it clear I'm off limits. How is that deceiving?"

"Off limits?" She frowns. "You're single."

"Still off limits."

"So you never plan to move on?"