‘And?’
Abhay smiled to himself, caught somewhere between victory and ache.
‘Every second of it was worth losing my mind to.’
Chapter 16
Kashvi had heard what kind of stories were being whispered about her sister since the wedding was announced, and she hated how those very people were invited by her father. From her claimed territory at the far end of the bar, she watched as everyone mingled among themselves, waiting for the bride and groom to show up.
Her hand tightened around the glass in her hand, and when a slight crack echoed, she placed it back on the marble counter. Her nails dug into her palm as she noticed the journalist in the far-left corner, laughing and drinking like he hadn’t written a character assassination piece about Siya just twenty-four hours ago.
The article had blazed its way through social media with terms likegold-digger,racy past, andmultiple lovers.
Eyes still locked on the man standing smugly across the room, Kashvi muttered under her breath, ‘I swear if I weren’t wearing heels and stuck in a goddamn lehenga, I’d teach that man a lesson he wouldn’t forget.’
A warm breath brushed against her ear, and the deep murmur of a smoky voice followed. ‘Only if you let me help you make it look like an accident.’
She whirled around, startled. She’d chosen this spot to be left alone, and somehow Swayam had still found his way toher. He was standing close, his chest touching her back, and a strange flutter ran down her spine.
The sharp line of his jaw was freshly shaved, giving him a polished and boyish charm that always tugged at her. Tucked inside the grey blazer, his black shirt was unbuttoned just enough that his toned chest peeked out. His dark hair was slightly tousled and a smug grin was etched onto his face.
‘You’re staring,’ Swayam murmured, the corners of his mouth tilting up.
‘And you’re flattering yourself,’ she shot back, even as her cheeks warmed and she hoped that the shadows in this corner were dim enough to hide it.
‘I don’t have to. You do it for me,’ he said, his voice smooth as ever.
Kashvi rolled her eyes and turned away before her smile betrayed her. He stood close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off him. Before she could do something stupid like lean against him, she turned around, pretending to watch the stage.
‘Is he the one who wrote that article you shared in the group chat?’ he asked, gesturing toward the journalist.
‘Yes.’
‘He certainly seems chummy with your father,’ he observed, leaning against the counter behind her.
‘Uh-huh,’ she answered, not bothering to hide her frustration.
‘How are you staying so calm?’ he asked.
‘Because the alternative is to kill him and it’s too risky with so many witnesses.’
His smile returned, smug and lazy, and Swayam said, ‘Do you realise how adorable you look when you’re furious?’
‘And do you realise how insufferable you are when you flirt?’ she asked, but it lacked any real heat.
‘Then I’m doing something right.’
Kashvi bit back a smile, shook her head, and turned away. She wasn’t ready to admit how easily he could undo her with his words, but God, she felt it.
He shifted closer, looking at her and asked, ‘Why do you have cotton balls stuffed in your ear?’
She stiffened and thought of ignoring his question, but he could be very dedicated when he wanted to know something so she just shrugged.
‘That’s not an answer.’
Kashvi sighed, then mumbled. ‘The sound of camera flashing makes me nervous.’
‘Why?’
