VIHAAN
Vihaan sat across the table, his front seat position affording him an unobstructed view of his nemesis. She’d been an absolute painin his butt while they’d been in school together, but he’d never imagined one day that he’d sit in a position of power over her.
He could destroy her so easily, he thought, watching closely while she introduced herself to the four other senior personnel who’d been part of the vetting process. Contract or not, he could dismiss her without an explanation and there wasn’t a damn thing she’d be able to do. Sure, she could complain to the worker’s board, and try to lodge a case against his business. But he had a team of lawyers on retainer who were paid exorbitant fees, enough that they would keep her mired in hearing delays and slander charges till her money dried up and her motivation for justice was shot.
He could remove her from his life as simply as throwing away a used napkin, with no consequence to him.
Why then had he chosen to play along when she’d refused to quit? He’d never been able to resist a challenge from Vera when they’d been younger. The inherent determination with which she’d stood up to him had him intrigued.
No, no, no! Not intrigued. Just. . . curious. In the same way an eagle looks at a flopping fish before putting it out of its misery.
He leaned back in his chair, glad for the opportunity to observe her under the cover of the dim lights. With one elbow on his armrest, hand hovering in the air near his face, he twirled his pen between his fingers, spinning it over his thumb and catching it just before it toppled past his knuckles.
Over and over he did this, unable to understand why he’d given Vera the impression that he’d let her work at Ethos. His eyes swept over her, trying to focus on the words she was speaking.
He couldn’t.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. One, he was supposed to have never seen Vera again. Ever.
Two, if they’d been meant to meet, then it should have been when he had a stunning woman on his arm to flaunt. He’d have shown her how utterly andcompletelyhe had forgotten all about her. He mighteven have pretended to not remember who she was to really drive in the point that she meant nothing to him.
Vihaan knew he was a handsome man. Not that there weren’t better looking people out there—but none of his lovers had ever seemed displeased with his face or physique. He played sports, he worked out, had good hygiene and style. The looks he drew were not all because of his money.
Vera was supposed to have seen that, maybe drooled over him while he ignored her, and felt immense regret for having lost him.
Instead, he’d stood in front of her, tongue tied, unable to utter a word when she’d welcomed him to his own fucking company in that cool, impersonal tone, addressing him with all the formality one would expect from an employee.
As if she’d never moaned his name before.
As if she’d never shuddered in need under him.
As if she’d never hidden her true face and left him devastated at the discovery.
I didn’t enjoy it.Her snippy declaration in the break room still burned in his ears. The vein on the side of his forehead throbbed as he quelled the impulse to stand up and yell at her for being a liar.
His eyes narrowed, zeroing in on the stubborn tilt of her chin. The witch had known exactly how to provoke him. Fuck, it had been mere minutes in her presence and he was thinking about things he shouldn’t be. Didn’t enjoy it? How dare she? There was no way she’d faked the orgasms or the absolute surrender in her body when she’d been in his bed.
Or. . . had she?
Had his recollection of their intimacies been clouded by the feelings he’d had for her? Had he simply been projecting the same enjoyment he’d experienced?
Goddamnit! This was not what he wanted to be thinking about right now! He gnashed his teeth, glaring at her despite knowing itwas futile. She was far too engrossed in impressing everyone to note that he was skewering her with his eyes.
How easily she reminded him of his failures. He’d never been insecure, yet a few words from her made him question things he otherwise wouldn’t have. So many times he’d wanted to ask her why she’d betrayed him. So many times he’d held back. He wouldn’t lay out his grievances with her now and have it seem like he was still the same eighteen-year-old boy whose heart she’d trampled all over in her bid to make a quick buck.
Her heels clicked twice when she stepped back towards the screen, her eyes bright with excitement as she delivered her notes. “Why the hell aren’t you ugly?” he grumbled under his breath, so quietly that no one noticed. He squinted, trying to see if maybe she’d magically begun to look worse in the past couple hours since he’d confronted her. Nope.
Her skin was perfect. Her hair looked so luscious, it made him wonder how much it weighed. And her smile? Fucking flawless, even if it was fake.
She looked tired, and had lost some roundedness in her cheeks. But all that had done was make her seem like a consummate model who was better suited for the runway in Milan and Paris. She looked like she should have been drinking wine, eating fancy cheese and modelling couture. Instead, she was standing in a dark boardroom, wearing clothes that should have been burned as soon as they’d been taken off the rack, confidently discussing target demographics.
Vihaan’s eye passed by the bar graph that was up on the screen. He tried to read the numbers and make sense of what he was seeing, until she pointed towards a particular portion, drawing his attention once more to her ring-less finger.
She may not be married, but he’d seen her acting quite chummy with that other employee—the anchor whom every person within the channel seemed to be enamoured with.
He’d reviewed her file over the weekend, trying to learn as much about her as he could. Of course, not much about her personal life could be deduced through employee files. He’d been able to confirm that she was receiving health support funding as part of her contract, with the cheques being paid to a care facility for the elderly. He supposed Vera’s grandfather was still alive.
Vihaan had good memories of Mr. Ambernath Talwar who had been employed as his father’s driver since before Vihaan was born. He’d grown up addressing the elder Mr. Talwar as Nanaji to show respect for his age, a fact that had irritated Vera who’d often waspishly reminded him that he couldn’t claim her grandfather as his.