Royal Vs Rebel (Royal #2: Book 1)

56

-• a closure or a beginning •-

Yuvraaj Singh Chauhan

I fold the last of my shirts in the suitcase. Normally, I don't pack my own suitcase, Zoya does it for me. I never had the time, nor any interest in what I was wearing. And I trusted Zoya's taste, she knew perfectly which outfit goes with which event or function I'm supposed to attend. But she isn't coming with me to New York this time. And I cannot call her every second there to ask what I need to wear when. Especially not in front of Sara. She already thinks of me as a manchild. I'm not. I'm just constantly busy. But she'd never try to understand that. According to her, I'm a man who thinks of women's existence only necessary to make his life convenient and easy, which is not true. And I don't know when she's going to realise that, hopefully before we part ways for good.

Are you sure about that? You tricked her into sharing a suite with you.

I slow down folding the pants and clear my throat, blocking the randomly popping thoughts. Maybe it's because I don't have people to talk to that I talk to myself so often in the head.

My phone starts ringing on the desk. I breathe out in relief. Confrontation with people unnerves me. Confrontation with myself makes me anxious. Reaching the blaring device, I slide the answer button and press the screen to my ear, sandwiching it between my ear and shoulder as I continue folding the pants.

"Yes,"

"I've convinced the board to undertake the palace under our contract for the chain of hotels and resorts. They want fifty percent of it to be under the management's control, leaving only the main palace for domestic use. And they're only agreeing if the investor works on twenty percent return profit. You really want to do this? It's a deal benefiting only us."

I hum.

"Alright, I'll set up a meeting with Arush.. Will you be in New York then?"

"Possibly," I answer him.

"Why are you doing this, Yuvraaj? You don't regret things."

"I don't. She became an exception." I answer, an unamused smile on my face. "Like always," I whisper under my breath.

"Sorry? I missed what you said last," he informs.

"Nothing," I mumble. "I've an architect in my mind. She'll be perfect for this job."

"Leah?"

"Yeah, but I'll need to convince her first."

"Her fees are exceptionally high. And she's notorious among the engineers for her complex work. They crib about how often she meddles into their work once the project is in progress."

"I know. But she's best for this. She knows Sara inside out. And she had been to that palace more than I did. She is familiar with that place."

"I'm too."

"You're not an architect." I snort.

"Alright, if you say so. See you after you return from New York. Bye,"

"Bye," Hanging up, I toss the phone beside the open suitcase. Grabbing the discarded pair of pants, I sit down on the empty side of the bed, staring mindlessly at the floor.

There was a time I used to consider that woman a waste of my time. When I considered talking to her as a chore. When I didn't want to look at her lest she distracts me from other important tasks. And now here I am, wishing her attention towards me the moment it goes astray, stranded between my want to cut off the last ties with her and the need to keep her attached to me by any means.