𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐌𝐲 𝐈𝐬𝐡𝐪

Chapter 33

The black Lamborghini Aventador SVJ roared as it sliced through the empty highway, a streak of glossy black under the morning sun. Saachi gripped the wheel, her red-tipped fingers tapping against the leather as she smirked, her designer sunglasses shielding her sharp gaze. 

She didn’t need directions; she had memorized the address at a glance. The moment she spotted the grand estate, she pressed the accelerator, making the tires screech slightly as she pulled up in front of the entrance.

The old caretaker, startled, turned just in time to see her stepping out in slow motion, the slit of her dress parting just enough to tease but never reveal. 

Inside, Adhyant had just kissed Saachi’s photograph, placing it back on the side table. Dressed in a black fitted T-shirt and grey sweatpants, his rough, bearded look only added to his rugged handsomeness.

He exhaled, rubbing his forehead. He came out of his room and looked at a maid who was dusting.

“Sir, should I bring your coffee to study?” The caretaker asked. 

Adhyant nodded, rolling up the sleeves of his T-shirt. “Yes, and make sure—” 

“ADHYANT SINGH SHERAWAT!” 

The loud, commanding voice cut through the air like a whip. He froze mid-step, his entire body going rigid. That voice. That attitude. 

Slowly, he turned his head toward the entrance, where the heavy wooden doors had been pushed open. 

And there she was. 

Saachi strode in like she owned the place, her dress clinging to her like a second skin, her luscious hair bouncing with every step. She casually removed her sunglasses and tossed them on the nearest table, her piercing eyes locking onto his. 

The caretaker nearly gasped at her audacity, while Adhyant’s grip on the railing tightened, his knuckles going white. 

Saachi smirked, taking slow, deliberate steps toward the main hall, her heels clicking against the floor. 

He looked up at him and he was looking handsome than before in his grown beard look. She shook off her dirty thoughts and came back to her bold personality again.

“Well, well,” she drawled, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Look at you, living like a retired king in exile while I was supposed to what? Cry my heart out? Sign those pretty little papers and disappear from your life?” 

Adhyant’s eyes darkened, his jaw clenching. He came downstairs and spoke as gently as he can “Saachi—” 

She tsked, shaking her head. “Tsk, tsk. You didn’t even have the guts to come and face me yourself. Send your Bade Papa instead, huh?” 

His lips parted, but before he could speak, she threw the divorce papers onto the coffee table in front of him. 

“There. I brought them,” she said, her gaze burning into his. 

He stared at them, then back at her. His expression was unreadable, but his fingers twitched by his sides. 

She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice to a whisper only he could hear. 

“Sign them, Adhyant.” 

A muscle ticked in his jaw. 

She leaned back, tilting her head, her eyes glinting with challenge. “Or… are you scared?” 

The air between them was thick with tension, an invisible storm swirling in the space they occupied. Adhyant exhaled slowly, his eyes never leaving hers.