Twisted Devotion

Chapter 13

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Her POV:

That kiss on his collar had been a snap decision, a reckless move to push him back, to show him I wasn’t one to be toyed with. But now, as I stood before the glass doors of Vidhatri Group, a deep unease gnawed at me. The memory of his scent, his warmth, clung to me, twisting around my mind like a shadow I couldn’t shake.

Stepping out of the car, I squared my shoulders and walked toward the entrance, each click of my heels echoing like a warning. Aarti met me, her arms loaded with files and reports, her usual efficient self.

"Good morning, ma'am," she said, her tone steady. "Here are the quarterly reports, and the investors are expecting us for a call in an hour."

“Cancel all my meetings today.” My voice was sharp, barely a whisper. I didn’t care to explain; I just wanted to be alone.

Aarti hesitated, a flicker of worry in her eyes, but nodded. "Understood, ma'am."

I left her there, cutting through the familiar hallways with my head held high, ignoring every curious glance and whispered word. My mind kept drifting back to him, to the mark I’d left on his shirt, as if I’d branded him in a moment of weakness.

Two hours passed as I worked, numb to everything around me, forcing myself to focus on mundane tasks just to drown out the thoughts crawling under my skin. It didn’t help. Eventually, I gave up, letting my gaze drift to the portrait on my desk. My mother’s eyes stared back at me, unwavering, as if daring me to break.

Ms. Savita Sharma—my mother, my shield, my guide. She’d raised me alone, given me everything, and now, in her absence, I was left with her legacy and the scars it had carved into me. I reached up, touching my own collarbone, feeling the weight of her expectations pressing down like chains.

As the day wore on, evening blurred into night, and I found myself driving to his family’s estate. I hadn’t intended to go, but Rooh’s message lingered on my phone, her innocence unwittingly drawing me into his world.

[Come to the Agnivanshi estate di]

I stepped inside, and there he was—waiting, watching, those gray eyes locked on me like a predator sizing up his prey. A faint smudge of lipstick stained his collar, my mark on full display. He hadn’t bothered to hide it, not even in front of his family.

Rohan approached me, grinning. "Come, Didi, we were just waiting for you."

I barely registered his words, my focus pinned on the man lounging on the couch, his gaze dark and unwavering. Every look, every breath between us was loaded with a tension that neither of us could deny. He looked at me with a challenge in his eyes, a silent dare.

My phone buzzed in my hand. It was a message from him.

*[Mr. Agnivanshi]*  

"You left quite a mark today. Literally."

My heart skipped, and my fingers hovered over the screen. I wanted to throw something snarky back, to brush it off like it was nothing, but every reply I thought of sounded weak. I locked my phone, setting it aside, hoping he’d let it drop.

Seconds later, another message.

"Regret it yet, little dove?"

I glared at the screen, a rush of defiance flooding through me. My fingers flew over the keys.

“Never. But I’m sure you’ll give me plenty of reasons to regret it. It was just a reaction to your behavior."

This time, his reply was immediate, cold and dangerous.

"Oh, I intend to."