Page 35 of The Redemption
Despite securing the knot, he doesn’t let go, nor do I stop trying to free myself. In the struggle, the sash of my bathrobe loosens, and the robe slips open at my neckline, baring mycleavage far more than it should. Instinctively, I want to fix it and pull it back into place, but I can’t. Not when my hands are tied. And the more I struggle, the worse it gets. So I stop, lift my chin, and meet his gaze, refusing to show even a hint of discomfort. If he expects embarrassment, he won’t get that from me.
Raghav doesn’t look away. His eyes stay locked on mine, reading my every expression and struggle. His fingers linger near my wrists for a moment longer than necessary. If only my hands were free now, I would have punched that arrogance off his face.
But just as that thought crosses my mind, his gaze drifts lower… from my face to the open curve of my neckline, to my exposed cleavage. The awareness of his eyesthereis so immediate that my breath stutters,betraying me instantly.
I don’t want him looking there. I don’t want him looking at me like that. But Raghav does just that. He stares at me openly, not even attempting to hide his hunger or soften his admiration. It’s as if he has already decided that nothing about this moment is off-limits for him.
And what bothers me even more is not just the way he looks at me, but how his body responds to it. His chest rises and falls a fraction heavier now. There is a tension in him that wasn’t there a second ago, clearly visible in the subtle change of his breathing. My anger flares up all over again, despite the goosebumps from his admiration.
“What the hell is this?” I yell at him. “How can you tie me up? Free me at once, RK.”
His gaze returns to my face as he finally releases his hold from my wrists. Just when I think he’s going to leave, his fingers lift to my chin, gripping it firmly enough to tilt my face up and force my eyes back to his.
“That’s a punishment,” he says at last. “For hiding what’s mine… and for speaking to me disrespectfully.”
I immediately jerk my face away from his hold, breaking the contact, refusing to give him even that small control. But he catches my jaw again, forcing me to look at him once more.
“Thank your stars,Princess, that I’m not tying your mouth shut. And watch your tone next time.”
I glare at him as he continues, “Your brother, Samarjeet, might be a coward, butI’mnot. If someone steals from me, I make them pay in ways far worse than this. So the next time they think about touching what’s mine, they’re reminded of the consequences. You have already crossed enough lines. Trespassing on my property, breaking my rules, and now hiding what belongs to me. One more, and you’ll meet the man your father must have warned you never to cross. Trust me, you don’t want to meet him, ever.”
Despite my resolve to stay unaffected by his threats, I swallow hard as he delivers that statement. Yes, I’ve heard enough about his Dark Prince persona to know one thing. He doesn’t kill his prey. He plays with it until it submits to his hunger. And that alone is reason enough to keep my mouth shut.
As soon as Raghav reads the fear on my face, no matter how hard I try to hide it, he lets go of me. Without another word, he turns around and walks out of my room. Only then do I release the breath I’ve been holding.
For a few seconds, I remain exactly where I am. The room around me is a mess. Drawers are left open, and things are scattered everywhere. My hands are still tied behind my back, and the robe around me has loosened further, the fabric having shifted more at some point, revealing half of my breast. Thank God Raghav left before this happened. It would have been a whole different level of embarrassing.
I want to scream at him, at this situation, but I don’t. It will only alert the guards outside. Now, standing here with my hands bound in a room that no longer feels like mine, I can almost understand what my mom meant when she warned me about the Dark Prince.
And yet, I don’t regret it. I didn’t come here blindly. I came with a purpose that matters more than discomfort, more than intimidation, more than a man who thinks he can control how far I go and when I stop. And until that purpose is fulfilled, I’m not walking away.
For now, all I have to focus on is getting my hands untied. And that, looks far more complicated than everything else.
CHAPTER 9
RAGHAV
Day 4 @ RK Estate
Usually, my mornings begin before the sun has fully risen over the valley. I ride Zephyr across the vineyard, inspecting the land, speaking with the workers, and checking production. It’s a routine I follow without fail. But today, none of that has happened.
Since last night, I have struggled to fasten the pendant to my chain, and have failed every single time. No matter how many times I try, the hook refuses to close properly. It slips, misaligns and refuses to hold. Even now, I’m standing in the garden at the far end of the open lawn, away from the main area, still trying to attach the pendant.
The breakfast buffet is already set inside the restaurant, while the outdoor tables remain mostly empty at this hour. The quiet here, with no unnecessary movement or interruptions, suits me as I focus on fixing the pendant back into place.
My jaw tightens as I bring the chain forward again, lowering my chin to get a better look. I press the tiny hook with more force than necessary and try to secure it in place. For a beat, it feels like it might hold, but then it slips away again.
I exhale slowly, feeling slightly irritated. I have never liked things that refuse to obey when they should. And this is not someordinary piece of metal that I can set aside and forget. This is special.
Just as I’m about to try again, my iPad rings.
I glance down at the table beside me, where the screen lights up with Meher’s name. A video call. For a moment, I consider ignoring the call, but the thought disappears just as quickly as it comes. There are some things I simply do not ignore, and my family is one of them. I cannot dismiss them, no matter how much distance I still try to keep between us.
Closing my fingers around the pendant, I pick up the iPad and place it against the flower vase in front of me, adjusting it just enough for the frame to hold steady. Then I accept the call.
The screen flickers for a second before Meher and Ayaan appear together, both leaning into the frame, both smiling.
Meher is the first to speak. “Good morning, Raghav,” she greets me warmly with her soft and bubbly voice. “I thought you wouldn’t answer my call.”
