"Because you're my wife," he said instead. "And I take care of what's mine."
He left before she could respond, before he could see the hurt or hope or whatever emotion was surely on her face.
In his office, he poured a whiskey and stood at the window, looking out at the dark gardens.
He'd crossed a line tonight. Multiple lines.
And he had no idea how to go back.
The Next Day - 2:47 PM
Samarth sat in his home office, trying to focus on the reports in front of him. Arms shipment schedules. Territory disputes. Revenue projections.
The words blurred together.
His mind kept drifting back to last night. To Nimisha on the kitchen counter. To the taste of her on his tongue. To the way she'd looked at him afterward—like he was something more than a monster who'd married her out of obligation.
I take care of what's mine.
The words echoed in his head, mocking him.
His phone buzzed. Abhay.
"What?"
"Boss, we have a problem."
Samarth's hand tightened on the phone. "What kind of problem?"
"Mrs. Ranawat is missing."
The room went very still.
"What do you mean, missing?"
"She left the estate this morning around ten. The driver said she took one of the cars and dismissed him, saying she'd drive herself. That was almost five hours ago. No one's seen her since. Her phone is off."
Ice flooded Samarth's veins. "Have you checked—"
"We've checked everywhere she usually goes. The bookstore. The market. Her friend Aisha's house. Nothing. It's like she disappeared."
Rajput.
The name slammed into Samarth's mind with the force of a bullet.
If that bastard had touched her—
"Get everyone on this," he said, already standing. "I want every resource we have looking for her. Check traffic cameras, ATM footage, everything. And find out if Rajput's men have been active today."
"Already on it, boss."
Samarth ended the call and was halfway to the door when Saroj appeared.
"Samarth, have you seen Nimisha? She missed lunch, and she's not answering her phone."
"She's not here."
Saroj frowned. "What do you mean? Where would she go?"