Page 31 of Lawfully Yours
She scrolled through her contacts, found his number, and hit the video call button.
Within two rings, the screen lit up with his face.
Sunglasses on. Driving.
Casual as ever.Infuriatingly gorgeous.
The first two buttons of his black shirt were undone, giving a teasing glimpse of his smooth, tanned skin. Kushal mostly rolled up his shirt sleeves while driving, she knew, which exposed his forearms—strong, lean, with veins running down the length, flexing subtly as he maneuvered the steering wheel with ease.
His long and deft fingers gripped the wheel lazily. A thick, luxurious watch wrapped against his wrist, its expensive sheen catching the light. His designer sunglasses only added to the carefree arrogance that dripped off him.
He looked like a hero out of a movie…dangerous, confident, the kind of man women didn’t just look at,but stared at.
And he knew it.
Because the moment their eyes met through the screen, his lips curled into the faintest smirk, as if he could already sense her frustration from miles away.
As if he enjoyed it.
The sight of him, looking so effortlessly relaxed while she was on the verge of losing her mind, only fuelled her anger.
Before he could even speak, she launched straight into an attack.
“How dare you send me flowers?” she snapped. “Don’t try these manipulative tricks on me, Kushal. It’s not going to work. Whatever game you’re playing, save it for someone else. If you think you can irritate me with this childishness, you’re sorely mistaken. And let me make one thing clear. These flowers are going straight to the dustbin the second I end this call!”
He didn’t react.
Didn’t blink.
Didn’t even acknowledge her rage the way she wanted him to.
Instead, he smiled.
“I didn’t send you any flowers.”
He didn’t? F*ck!
“What? You didn’t?” she asked, momentarily thrown off.
He glanced at the road briefly, his grip firm on the steering wheel as he took a smooth turn, before meeting her gaze through the screen.
“I didn’t know you were expecting me to send some to you, Mrs. Nair.”
Her stomach tightened, but her anger pushed back harder.
“Don’t twist my words, Kushal,” she seethed, gripping the phone tighter.
His smirk remained as he adjusted his sunglasses.
“I don’t waste my time and energy buying gifts and flowers for people who don’t value them.”
The way he said it, so carelessly, so detached, sent a fresh wave of irritation rushing through her.
She opened her mouth to retaliate, but before she could, he sighed as if he were indulging a particularly annoying child.
“I’m driving,” he added lazily. “See you at the office in a while.”
And just like that, he disconnected.
