What happens when a commoner girl saves billionaire 's mother life and he suspects her?
"𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝙳𝚊𝚖𝚗 𝚒𝚝!"
"𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐." I pleaded.
When Meera selflessly saves the life of Akshay Obe...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Theme: Velvet Black-Smooth Yet Dark.
───※ ·❆· ※─── However, to my surprise, his demeanor shifted. He abruptly halted, seemingly calculating his next move. He swiftly ordered his driver to join him, and in a moment, his car arrived with surprising speed. I knew the direction this was heading.
"I have my car; I can..." I began to say, Before I could finish my sentence,
"Not now," he murmured. His response came swiftly, cutting through the air like a velvet blade. His tone, lower and tinged with a touch of frustration, sent a shiver down my spine.
As I instinctively took a step back, creating a small space between us, his touch found its way to my elbow, drawing me closer with a tenderness that belied the frustration in his voice. The warmth of his hand against my skin ignited a rush of emotions, a contradiction that left me breathless.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"And stop testing my patience," he continued, his voice softer yet filled with a plea. "And stop being so hard on me."
In that moment, time seemed to slow, and the world faded into insignificance, leaving only the two of us locked in an intimate embrace.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
His piercing gaze held mine captive, his eyes like windows into his soul, revealing a myriad of emotions and complexities.
It was an unspoken conversation that spoke volumes. And as he leaned in, I could feel his breath, warm and tender, lightly brushing against my face, evoking sensations.
I couldn't summon the courage to meet his gaze, my eyes finding solace in the safety of looking down. The situation weighed heavily on me, amplified by the presence of his formidable security team, even though their attention seemed elsewhere. But the intensity, the storm raging within him, and his touch offered a stark contrast to the heaviness of his voice.
It was as if he cradled me, fragile in his grasp, as though I were the most precious person he had ever touched.
A wave of unnamed emotions surged within me, catching me off guard.
How could I dare entertain the notion of being precious to him? It felt impossible, and yet the gentle touch of his hand and the intensity in his gaze spoke a different truth.
It was as if he had seen the pain flash through my eyes, the memory of the incident at the club resurfacing with an overwhelming force.
In that vulnerable moment, tears welled down my cheeks.
He took a step back, a mix of concern and anger etched across his face. The frustration in his voice crackled with intensity as he uttered, "That bastard... How dare he?"
He turned around, breaking the tension.
"Did he hurt you?"
But before I could grapple with these conflicting emotions, a sudden change swept over him. His features softened, and his eyes filled with tenderness.
I met his gaze. Shaking my head in response. He understood the unspoken words and the pain that had etched itself in my heart.
And in that understanding, he gently guided me towards the awaiting car. and opened the door for me.
Inside the car, a noticeable change came over him. Just moments ago, he had been gentle and tender, but now his hand tightened around the steering wheel, revealing his growing anger. I caught a glimpse of his profile; his features contorted with frustration.
"When I asked you, why didn't you say he hurt you?" He Questioned.
His gaze shifted from me to my wrists, and there was a sharp edge in his voice.
His words hit me like a sudden jolt, and I felt a surge of unease. I had chosen not to acknowledge the pain inflicted upon me, perhaps out of fear or a misguided attempt to protect him from the ugliness of it all. But now, facing his direct inquiry,
Confusion and frustration washed over me as I watched him open the car's trunk and retrieve something. His actions were swift and purposeful. With a determined expression, he returned to the car and settled back inside.
"Give me your hand," he said without looking at me, his tone commanding yet gentle.
I hesitated, no longer willing to succumb to his authoritative demeanor. How dare he think he could control me with his words alone?
It was within those confined spaces that our emotions soared, colliding and intertwining in ways I could never fully understand.
It was as if he had an innate ability to unravel the depths of my soul and see beyond the carefully crafted face I presented to the world.
"Please," he uttered softly, his voice filled with an intensity that made my heart race.
Time seemed to slow as the gravity of the moment settled upon us, overwhelming my senses.
And then, in a tender gesture, he delicately touched my wrist, his fingers tracing the contours of my skin. I couldn't tear my eyes away from him, captivated by the intensity of his gaze. When he wasn't looking directly at me, it felt easier to see the intricate details of his face and study the emotions etched upon it.
As I watched him, it became clear that he was still consumed by anger over what had happened.
He reached for a hankie, with an embroidery that bore his initials.
"Ao"
From within, he retrieved a small bundle, wrapped securely in the cloth. I soon realized it was an ice pack.
With gentle precision, he placed the chilled pack on my injured wrist. The coldness seeped through the fabric, soothing the throbbing ache. It was as if his touch held the power to heal-not just the physical pain but the emotional turmoil that raged within me.
As the coldness of the ice enveloped my wrist, the pain began to recede.
His fingers lingered for a moment as I gently pulled my hand away, their touch leaving a faint imprint on my skin. I could sense the reluctance in his actions, as if he didn't want to let go just yet. It was a bittersweet moment, filled with unspoken words.
"I am fine now," I whispered, my voice barely audible in the intimate space of the car.
I sat in silence, unsure of his emotions, but I couldn't help but sense a tinge of disappointment emanating from him. However, to my relief, he nodded, as if coming to terms with something.
Without further ado, he started the car, and we were on the journey to my home.
