My Ruination

Chapter 10.

~Maahira~

Life is different when I am attending my college classes. I am not my problems or the current dilemma in my life, I am just another student trying to get through the course of my syllabus and surviving amongst this beautiful chaos I fought my father tooth and nail for. The women belonging to the upper-class families weren't allowed to study anymore than a bachelor's degree, mostly in literature or music. He had proposed to have me get married to a moderately wealthy family in London but I had put my foot down. I had to make something worthy of myself, something built entirely on my efforts and something that could never be taken away from me.

I am in the library currently, thick books opened all around me and I was nose-deep into the thickest of the bunch. It's much later in the evening so many of the students have retired for their dorms or some frat party they want to join but personally, I am not too big on frat parties. My friends and I go to this club every month and get drunk off our asses. Besides, I want to soak up as much of the lonesome silence of the library at this hour.

I had been taking notes in my notebook, holding my pen in a death grip when a smooth, velvety voice interrupted my strained thoughts.
"Miss Damani." Sebastian Grant, one of my professors, stood behind me, smiling down at me and holding a crusty book in his hands. Compared to all my professors, Mr Grant was the youngest, somewhere in his late twenties. And the fact that everyone at the London Business School dressed impeccably made him look polished in his white shirt and gray waistcoat.

"If I am not interrupting your intense session, can I indulge you in some literature?" He questioned politely and upon closer inspection, I realized the book in his hand was The Art of War by Sun Tzu. "Unless ofcourse, they do not interest you in the slightest. No judgements, ofcourse."

I leaned back and said, "'Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake.' Please, Mr Grant. I can recite that book in my sleep." I pointed at the seat right opposite to me as Mr Grant smirked in a boyish manner and rounded the table to occupy the seat facing me. He placed the book on the table and leaned back in his chair. He was handsome by a bookish definition- blue eyes, clean-shaven, lean and compact muscles and chestnut brown hair.

I noticed the girls sitting just a few chairs over gushing and whispering to each other as they throwing amorous glances at him. I guess he could be a preferable eye-candy if my thoughts weren't plagued by whiskey eyes and ink-black hair. "I observed you holding the pen like you were trying to squeeze it's life out and couldn't resist myself. What is so complex in these books, Ms Damani?" His eyes begun scanning the books opened before me.

"It's not what in the books that had me captured, it's what not there. Some answers would just be simpler if they were printed in these books."

"I am afraid you have to clarify on that and no, I am not going to leave it at that." He said in the authoritative tone and I guessed it wouldn't hurt to talk to someone who was more informed and experienced. I sighed and pushed my notebook a little away from myself.

"My degree is going to end in about a month and the companies have already started arriving for placements. A few of my classmates have already been hired and all of them have been guys. I was sure it's just a coincidence but then I looked into these companies, and every single high-paying positions have a man's name on them. The women are offered a junior positions with average salaries and barely any scope for promotions." I paused to rub my eyes together, "To put it plainly, I don't want to work hard if I am going to end up working under some douchebag when my skills and knowledge are above him. Not putting a value to your worth is equivalent to letting them walk all over you."

He slowly nodded his hand in understanding and looked back at me, "Do you know what I thought when I corrected your papers for the first time? Any company you work for, will be seeing unprecedented growth in their numbers. I recognize your talent with them and I assure you do not deserve to work under a 'douchebag' "

We laughed at that and my cheeks flushed red. No one has ever recognized my talent with numbers before, something that I have always considered my superpower. Mr Grant pulled out a thick white envelope from within his waistcoat and slided it over to me. I watched him curiously as I picked up the thick envelope.

"This is an offer that just might impress you. It is not widely acclaimed company but I can promise you can exercise complete independence and flexibility in this job. Look into it, sometime." He winked playfully and begun flipping my pen in his hand, which I hadn't noticed him taking.

"I am glad that I brought you in the mood for charity but I don't want to be the recipient of it. I have worked way too hard to let sympathy decide my future." I tried to push the envelope back but he wouldn't accept it back.

"Please turn over the envelope." I scrunched my brows in confusion as i turned over the envelope. "Maahira Damani" was boldly and brightly written across the expanse of the paper. This letter was meant to find me anyway, irrespective of my complaints.

"As a teacher, I would never throw out opportunities just because I feel sympathetic or partial. Great chances always find people like you." He respectfully covered my palm in his and continued, "You should really think about what you would want and weigh your options."

"I agree. You should really think about what you would want on your hands." A deeper, masculine baritone cut through the otherwise, tranquil silence of the library as I snapped my hand away from Mr Grant and look behind myself to find Zaeden glaring down at me. Based on his reaction, he had noticed Mr Grant's hand touching mine.

I have really felt scared of anything before. But the look on Zaeden's face was downright frightening. He was never ever subtle about his murdereous thoughts, infact, they were the only thing about him not shrouded in darkness or any hint of doubt.

"Inaccurate decisions can leave you with blood on your hands and guilt on your conscience." I gulped as his implication landed exactly where it was aimed for. He was threatening Mr Grant's life and his blood would be on my hands. He walked over to me and pulled out the chair right next to my left side and sat down, so close that his suit jacket brushed against my elbows.

Up close, Zaeden looked dangerous. His dark stubble sharpened his jagged edges and the strength of his muscles ripples right down to the tattoos on his veiny palms. His scent was incredibly expensive and the glint of the black diamonds of his watch delectable. He was so horribly beautiful, it made me want to poke my eyes out for enjoying this even for a miniscule second.

"But that's not what you were referring to. Tell me, what were you talking about?" He somehow made his tone sound soothing and curious when he couldn't give two fucks about it. Mr Grant had straightened his back and gone was the flirtatious laid-back attitude. He didn't look intimidated but he could read the room and the company. The girls had finally stopped giggling and were now scrambling to leave the library as soon as possible. One of the girls shot me an apologetic look and walked out.

"Ms Damani was concerned about her career options and I was advising her to what would be wiseful of her to choose." Mr Grant replied politely as his gaze flitted between me and Zaeden, trying to make out our connection.

Zaeden's hand found mine under the table and he squeezed my four fingers tightly, undoubtedly trying to make the wedding ring on my ring finger poke me but that wasn't going to happen. Because I wasn't wearing my ring. Not in the ring finger atleast. The vermilion on my hairline was hidden by my hair and the mangalsutra wasn't visible from the turtleneck of my top.

This is why Mr Grant had such a difficult time figuring out. This is why Zaeden's jaw tightened and his finger scanned my ring finger.

"Maahira is a sorceress with numbers. She can make any fund grow like magic. I have seen her tying spreadsheets together like mystical knots in my class." Mr Grant continued and I prayed to God that if the time comes, I can force Zaeden to stop.

"Yes, please, continue. Tell me how good my wife is with numbers."