“If she was lying,” he said, pouring scotch into three glasses. “I would know.”
“She’s considered one of the finest actors in this country,” Amay countered drily. “If she was lying, I’m betting you’d never know.”
Virat stared at the amber liquid in the glass he held. He would know. Virat would know, dammit. The day he didn’t know her was the day he was dead and buried six feet under the ground.
He knew her. No matter what anyone thought, he knew her. And Virat knew without a shadow of doubt, that Cara had not been lying about dating the man who’d been voted the Sexiest Man Alive in 2024.
He tossed the drink back, the scotch burning a fiery trail down his throat.
“She’s not lying,” he repeated tonelessly. “Happy. Calm. Peaceful.” He bit the words out. “That’s how he makes her feel. She’s not lying.”
Peace over chaos. Kabir over Virat.
He was happy for her, he told himself. He was. All he’d ever wanted was for her to be happy. And she was. Extremely, as she said. Fuck his life but he was happy for her.
Crestwood
“I don’t care for your attitude.”
Her mother was tight lipped with fury.
“And I don’t care for yours!” All of Celina’s righteous rage bubbled over, making her throw caution to the winds.
“Celina!” Her mother took a deep breath, squeezing her eyes closed. “You are a child. There is a lot you don’t know.”
“I know Pa says he is never coming to India again.”
Her mother’s eyes flashed open, shock reflecting in them.
“What?” Celina asked, her eyes shining with tears. “You thought I couldn’t hear the shouting?” Her mouth twisted in a bitter smile. “It was a very Merry Christmas, Ma.”
“None of that has anything to do with this boy. You are not going to talk to him anymore.”
Celina turned away from her mother, not bothering to answer. She walked towards the door without a backward glance.
“Celina!!”
Her mother’s shout reverberated in the corridor as she slammed the door behind her and stormed off.
She left the school building and wandered toward the swimming pool, her footsteps slow and aimless, the silence of the Sunday afternoon wrapping around her like a second skin. With no rigid schedules to chase or bell schedules to obey, the campus felt like a ghost town—stripped of its usual noise, its polished perfection revealing cracks beneath the surface.
The path curved through a patch of overgrown trees, their roots jutting out like gnarled fingers clawing through the manicured earth. She stumbled over one, catching herself just in time, but the jolt travelled up her spine. A twisted root, unexpected and stubborn. Out of place. Just like her.
She paused, brushing a smear of dirt off her jeans, then looked around as if expecting someone to see her fall. No one did. No one ever did.
She didn’t belong here. Not in this pristine, ivy-draped school where everyone seemed to glide through life with curated smiles and ancient last names. Her mother called this place a “new beginning.” But it felt more like a gilded prison, every rule another chain, every expectation a weight she couldn’t breathe under.
And then there washim.
The boy who had cracked open something inside her with just one look. Storms lived behind his eyes—wild and dangerous and strangely familiar. He saw her. Really saw her. But even that came with consequences she didn’t know how to navigate.Wanting him felt like diving headfirst into dark water without knowing how deep it went.
She reached the edge of the pool and sank down on a sun-warmed bench, staring at the rippling surface. God, why was everything so hard?
“Hi. Celina right?”
Celina looked up from her perch on the bench. With the sun behind him, it was hard to make out the boy’s face. She squinted up, one hand coming to shadow her eyes so she could see better.
“Yes?”