Virat’s heart bled a little more, this cut going deeper than the rest. His hands clenched into fists and he shoved them into his pockets so he couldn’t reach for her.
“They’ll come for you,” Ishaan said, his gaze on her.
“They’ll come for Celina,” she corrected him. “But they won’t find her. They don’t know that I’m her. If they’d known, they would have come for me by now.”
No, they wouldn’t have. Virat wouldn’t have let them. He’d been tracking that very move every second of the years that had passed since that horrific night. The minute he’d have gotten the slightest inkling that they were on her trail, he’d have been there to block it.
He hadn’t saved her once, but he was damned if he wouldn’t do it, every single time since, in this lifetime and all the ones that come after it.
“What’s the end goal?” he asked now, drawing her gaze to him. Those wide, dark eyes rested on him, pain so old it felt like it seeped into their very bones, shining out of them.
“Ishaan’s right. The minute I push them off the edge, they’ll come for Celina. Like they did the last time. This time, Celina is going to be ready for them.”
“We set the stage, and they dance on it,” Virat murmured, his pulse doing an erratic tap dance at the thought. “We already have a sting in place.”
“There’s no harm in coming at them from different angles,” Ishaan said. “It makes it harder for them to focus on any one thing and invariably leads to them fucking up.”
“Your mother still lives with you,” Virat reminded her. “If they can track her, they can find you.”
“My mother changed her surname the minute my father divorced her. It’s a loose thread I agree, but not an obvious one. And,” Celina hesitated. “She’s aged. I’ll take the chance.”
“We can’t risk your career, your life!” Virat looked at her, his gaze begging her to understand. All of it, everything he’d done, everything she’d struggled for, what was it for, if it all imploded now?
“I believe that’s my decision to make,” she said quietly, not looking away from him.
“It’s not worth it, Celi.”
“It’s worth it to me,” she flared, her control and composure slipping. “I’m going to do this, with or without you.”
“We can try something else,” he said desperately. “Anything else.”
“Have you not already tried everything there is to try?” she demanded. “You wouldn’t have come to me if you hadn’t been failing at everything.”
Failing.
The word landed like a grenade. Virat struggled to keep his roiling emotions in check.
“Celi, please?”
“Are you with me or not, Vir? That’s all I need to know.”
Her calling him Vir was what unlocked the floodgates on his emotions. He shut his eyes and shook his head. Fuck his life.
“With you,” he said, his voice sounding scraped raw. “I am always with you.”
Crestwood
Celina ran through the halls, her shoes slipping on the tiled flooring. Fear and panic propelled her forward as she raced two floors down to the teacher’s den. The door to the den was open and she could see that most of the faculty were gathered for tea and snacks.
Her mother was standing by the window with Mohan Sir and turned, alarmed, when Celina burst into the room, out of breath and disheveled.
“Celina?” She strode over immediately, grabbing Celina by both arms. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?”
“Mama, you have to come.” Celina caught her mother’s hand and pulled. “Now!”
Her mother allowed her to tow her out of the room and into the corridor, stopping by the open doors. “What’s going on? Tell me.”
“There’s a boy in my class who is very hurt. He needs help.”