Making all the wrong choices they ever had,
to end up being Royally Trapped.
• • •
❛ Why are you acting this way? ❜
❛ I feel infuriated.❜
❛ And why is that so? ❜
❛ Because I can't figure out if I should scream at you or have you screaming for me.❜
•...
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there is something so wrong with he alignment of this chapter. please let me know if it still persists even after posting!!!
also, i had really thought to post this chapter next week, i didn't expect for you all to ask for an update after the last chapter- IT WAS NOT A CLIFFHANGER 😂😭 or atleast i thought so... but now we are here!
tumlogo ne jo logo se vote karwaya hai! 🙊🙊
also, genuinely, i have an exam the coming friday, so i'll be posting the next chapter on the weekend. i hope you enjoy this one as much as i enjoyed writing it.
vote and DHER SAARE comments! (abh 90 chahiye hi 😂😂)
also, try sharing the book if you can, i am kinda stuck with its promotions!!
now finally , HAPPY READING.
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"Bro, chill. I have heard she is taken."
The man has the audacity to still speak even when Kabir has his palm wrapped around the intruder's wrist. I still haven't spun around to face my husband, who without a doubt is searing in anger.
"Pray and tell who." My husband's cocky voice causes a wave of emotions to whirl in the pit of my abdomen. He sounds so confident and smug.
"Dheer Irani, no? The event manager's son."
My eyes close disappointedly at his conviction. How is everyone assuming me and Dheer to be in a relationship when we haven't even spent a minute together alone in this event? We have only exchanged a few words since we arrived. Trust people to label friendships between a guy and a girl in the worst way possible.
Rumours are notorious. They keep flying around, blazing like a fire. The flames reach so high that they have the strength to burn everything and anything.
"Oh. Is that it?" The man only nods and smirks at Kabir. He is acting as if he has won the lottery, assuming he has defeated my husband.
"Yes. Very true. Everyone's gossiping about them."
"And you were flirting with a woman who is supposedly dating? What does that make you? A loser? Or wait, better, a scoundrel?" The way Kabir prolongs and spells the last word out has the stranger fuming in bitterness.
