Page 53 of Obsession

“No, we are headed to the hospital,” Armaan replied. “Do you want to join us?”

Mihir shook his head. His brothers’ faces fell. He sat in the car and drove away, his mind back on her—Anna. She was hurt today because of him. And right now, despite hearing that Ivan had used her in his attack on him long ago, he couldn’t summon enough anger at her. His anger was all directed at Ivan. No one got to hurt Anna while he was alive.

After seeing her in that damn hospital bed, he could finally admit to himself that Anna was embedded in his skin. She made him feel too damn much. And each time he was in her proximity, he felt a little more than before. She felt a little morehisagain, and he felt a little more whole again.

And this was where the real problem lay. Anna washis. She’d always been onlyhis.

Yes, she’d hurt him in the past. And yes, he definitely didn’t want to be a victim to her sassy, sexy lure again. He needed to get away from her to get his head straight. He had to get out of Dubai, because if he stayed, he’d be tempted to visit her, to check on how she was doing.

Ananya Mehra had long been a temptation to him. Years ago, he’d gotten addicted to her, and now, years later, he was getting fixated on her again, so much so that it was bordering on obsession now. Her scent, her voice, her skin, her touch—she was constantly on his mind.

This obsession had to stop. He would make it stop.

14

One week later

Ananya read the newspapers again. Every headline was praising Mihir’s latest accomplishment. He’d signed a major deal with the UK government, under which they’d be working with his company on various sustainable energy projects across the country. This was yet another feather in his cap.

She shut the papers and pushed them aside. She lay down on her bed, annoyed with him. It was late in the evening, and she felt out of sorts. It had been a week since she’d been attacked, and apart from the one time she had seen him at the hospital, Mihir had remained gloriously absent. No calls, no texts, and no in-person visits. Plus, no information whatsoever about him from any of her siblings or his. Apparently, everyone had decided to keep mum about him. Only today, after reading the papers, had she learned that he was in London.

Considering the fact that she had been hurt thanks to Mihir’s feud with his cousin, the least he could have done was care enough to come see her. But no. He continued to remain cold and distant as ever. She sighed heavily. Clearly, he didn’t feel anything for her. Well, apart from raw, physical desire that is. After their last few intimate encounters, he could no longer deny that he was attracted to her. But this attraction between them was doomed. Mihir and she didn’t get along, so it was good that he was choosing to be distant from her.

But then why was she still waiting for a text from him? Why did her foolish heart still hope that he showed some sign that he cared about her? Why, in the face of death, had her mind only thought ofhim? Why was she consumed by regret at not having sorted everything out with him? She swallowed. All these thoughts were now pointless.

She touched the side of her chest. Apart from slight soreness and a small scar, she was doing alright. Well, physically, at least. Mentally, she was struggling. The attack had left her traumatized. Sudden movements and loud sounds made her anxious, and it was hard for her to fall asleep at night. She found it difficult to comprehend that she’d been targeted and stabbed in broad daylight, in the middle of a bustling street.

She’d learned self-defense—Rajiv had insisted upon it after the yacht incident with the Oshnovs. She’d continued her kickboxing lessons till date. But nothing had helped, and there lay the crux of her issue. What was the point of endlessly training to fight when she couldn’t defend herself when it mattered the most? This despair, this helplessness she felt at her own inability to look after herself was eating her alive. It slithered into her mind like a poisonous serpent, fueling her fear and anxiety.

Rajiv had told her that her attacker had been caught and dealt with, but it hadn’t eased her fears. Not that she’d told him or anyone else about her trauma. She hadn’t told anyone how she woke up in the middle of the night, panicking, her heart racing. They’d fuss over her endlessly, and her mother wouldn’t let her out of her sight.

Already, post her discharge from the hospital, her parents and Rajiv had forbidden her from going to work for a whole damn week. While initially she welcomed the break to heal, now she needed to get back to work. Perhaps a normal routine would ease her distress.

Besides, she still had loads of things to finalize for Noir’s anniversary edition. The more she thought about it, the more she believed that getting back into the thick of things at work would help her heal faster.

A knock on her door made her sit up. Her brother entered, bearing a wide smile and a large bowl of popcorn in his hand. He offered it to her.

She eyed the bowl. “Cheese and caramel mixed?”

He grinned. “Just as we like it.”

She grabbed the bowl from him and popped a few kernels into her mouth.

“It’s five pm on a Tuesday. Why are you home so early?” she asked between bites.

“I want to spend time with you.”

Grinning, she scooted, allowing him to flop on the bed beside her. He grabbed some popcorn and popped it into his mouth.

“Mmm, heaven!” he said.

She laughed, turning on the TV. She played a random episode of the sitcom FRIENDS. Watching movies and TV shows had been their thing for the longest time.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, laughing at the antics of the characters on TV.

“So, how’s the new house coming along?” she asked.

“It’s going good…” Rajiv grabbed some more popcorn from the bowl. “Mom and Sheena have finalized the designs for all the rooms. You still have to sit with them for yours, by the way.”

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