VAANI - His Deadliest Desire

CHAPTER 25

Next Update -  Wednesday ❤️

The office buzzed with energy. Designers gathered with excitement, waiting to be briefed on the prestigious airport project.

Vaani walked in with a measured breath, her left wrist carefully cradled and wrapped beneath her sleeve. She wore confidence like armor.

Vikran stood near the glass board, flipping through design sheets. His presence still commanded the room effortlessly, crisp in a black shirt, sleeves rolled up, hair casually tousled. But the moment his eyes landed on her, he froze.

His gaze dropped instantly to her wrist.

"Ms. Sharma," he said softly, approaching, "what happened to your hand?"

Her smile was automatic. Rehearsed. "Oh... um, I tripped. Bit of a silly accident, nothing serious."

Vikram stared at her—not at the wrist now—but her face. Her lips were cracked, skin a little pale, eyes tired despite the makeup. There was something... off.

"You should've applied for leave," he said, tone serious now.

She shook her head too quickly. "No need, sir. I'm totally fine. I can manage everything."

But inside—God, her heart was racing.

What if he removes me from the team?
What if he thinks I'm not capable anymore?

"Ms. Sharma." His voice snapped her out of her spiral. "This project is demanding. Long hours. Precision work. If your hand—"

"I promise I can do it," she said, cutting in, too fast.

He studied her again. That same quiet intelligence in his eyes—the one that always looked beyond what people showed.

But still, he backed off.

"Alright," he said after a pause, "but if it even swells, or hurts, I'm putting you on leave."

She nodded, tension easing a little. "Thank you, sir."

Vikram gave her a long look before turning to the designs again. But the unease didn't leave him.

He told himself she was just a normal intern. Hardworking, sharp. Not the kind of girl who had enemies.

"Maybe I'm overthinking," he muttered under his breath.

Not everyone has enemies like me. Not everyone has someone waiting to shoot them dead the moment they step outside.

But still...

He turned slightly, watching her from the corner of his eye as she silently joined the other designers.

There was something she wasn't saying.

And Vikram was not a man who ignored his gut.

.
.

Vaani shuffled the large sheets of blueprint, biting back a wince as her wrist trembled. Her fingers slipped slightly, and before the paper could flutter off the table—

"Careful."

Vikram's hand pressed the sheet down firmly beside hers. Their fingers touched slightly. His eyes flicked to her wrist—she was trying too hard to hide it.

"You really should take more breaks," he muttered, eyes back on the drawing.

She clenched her jaw. "I'm absolutely fine. Sir"

Vikram just nodded and left. But the next time she turned around, she noticed her workstation now had an ergonomic cushion lying quietly beside her monitor.

She never saw who placed them. May be one of her work friends?

.
.

The client's luxury suite was buzzing with staff and assistants, but Vaani felt her skin crawl the moment Mr. Goyal, the company's top client leaned a little too close.

Vikram had just stepped aside to take a call when it happened—an audacious hand grazing against her backside.

Vaani froze, then turned, her eyes blazing. Mr. Goyal stood there with a smug smirk, as if daring her to object.

"How dare you touch me?" she hissed, voice sharp enough to cut glass.

"Oh come on..." he drawled, his tongue clicking against his teeth. "You know through my hands... should I show ag—"

The resounding slap echoed across the suite before he could finish. Heads turned, gasps filled the air. Mr. Goyal staggered, his cheek blazing red.

"You old hag," Vaani spat, her fury spilling unchecked. "You think women stay silent because of your money and power? Touch me again, and I'll make sure you're the one begging to keep your dignity. You'll be lucky if I don't have you thrown into the damn river."

"YOU BITCH!" he roared, his mask of sophistication shattering. "You dare lay a hand on me? I own chains of hotels! I can ruin you! I can ruin your—"

"What the hell is going on here?" Vikram's voice sliced through the chaos as he strode back in, phone forgotten in his hand.

"Mr. Singhania!" Mr. Goyal straightened, clutching his cheek with righteous indignation. "Your employee—this girl—she tried to seduce me. When I refused her cheap tricks, she slapped me! Girls these days, shameless gold-diggers. I'm a married man, I have two children, and this whore dares—"

"Enough, Goyal." Vikram's tone was lethal calm, but the dangerous flicker in his eyes silenced even the murmuring crowd.

Mr. Goyal jabbed a finger toward Vaani. "Fire her, or you lose my hotels. Choose."

Before Vikram could respond, Vaani's voice cracked like a whip.

"Fuck you," she snapped, chest heaving as her rage spilled out. "Fuck your hotels, and fuck your filthy money."

The suite went silent. Then, without another word, she stormed out.

"Ms. Sharma...Ms. Sharma... Vaani—" Vikram called, chasing after her. His long strides caught up as she stood by the elevator, her hands trembling but her chin high.

"Mr. Singhania," she said tightly, eyes flashing, "if you want to fire me, go ahead. But if you think I'm going to apologize to that man, forget it."

Vikram exhaled, his gaze softening for the first time that evening. "Did I ask you to apologize?"

Her anger wavered. "No... but—"

"Then why are you assuming?" His lips quirked the faintest hint of a smile.

"But the project—" she stammered.

"It's not the only opportunity, Ms. Sharma. I already have dozens on the table." His tone was calm, steady, but the glint in his eyes lingered on her longer than necessary.

For the first time since the confrontation, Vaani's lips twitched into a smile—small, but real.

Vikram looked at her then, really looked, and something shifted. The fearless girl who had just slapped one of the wealthiest men in the city stood before him, unshaken, unapologetic.

And damn it, it pulled him in like gravity.