[ This Book is under editing]
Niharika Verma is a stunning semi-classical dancer who wants nothing more than to travel the world, but the shackles of her dreadful past keep her grounded. On the other end, Asia's well-known businessman and CEO of Ra...
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Maanveer's POV
The moment she stepped out of the washroom, my eyes immediately went to hers. But she didn't meet my gaze.
She was looking downward, deliberately avoiding eye contact.
A sigh left my lips, but I said nothing. My gaze shifted downward, and that's when I saw it.
Her hands-scratched brutally, red, almost raw.
But, I didn't ask. I knew she wouldn't answer. We didn't share that kind of bond-not yet. She didn't trust me enough to tell me something that personal, and I... I didn't know how to make her trust me.
So, without a word, I took her arm and led her outside.
We left the party in silence, neither of us bothering to acknowledge anyone. The drive home was just as quiet, filled only with the low hum of the engine. I wanted to ask her-what was behind her anxiety, what had scared her so much-but the words never left my mouth.
Because I knew she wouldn't tell me.
And I wasn't sure I was ready to hear it. . . . . Sometime later, after finishing up in my study, I returned to the bedroom.
Only to find the bed empty.
Again.
A frown tugged at my brows as I turned toward the balcony. And there she was.
Lying down, curled up on the coucg, as if this was the most normal thing in the world.
I walked over, leaning against the railing. "Why are you sleeping here again?"
She didn't even flinch at my voice, as if she had been expecting it. "I feel good here," she replied simply, her gaze fixed on the stars above.
I sighed and sat down beside her. "You can feel good inside too, you know. There's a bed there for a reason."
She let out a small breath-almost a chuckle, but there was no humor in it. "You think a bed ensures peace?"
I turned to look at her. She was still gazing up at the night sky, her expression unreadable.
"I used to think so," she continued after a beat. "When I was younger, I thought if I had a soft bed, a roof over my head, and people around me, I'd be safe. That I'd sleep peacefully at night."
A pause.
"But that's not how life works, does it?" She let out a bitter chuckle. "Because sometimes... even with all those things, sleep never comes."
Something in her tone made me realize, she was right. There was pain, buried beneath layers of nonchalance, but I could hear it.
Hearing her deep words, I sighed, rubbing my temple. There was something about the way she spoke-as if she had buried a lifetime of pain beneath those few sentences.
