Fuck. What was wrong with him? Why did this one woman hold the power to undo him in ways no one else ever could?
He sighed. This was ridiculous. He was behaving like a fool. And yet, like an absolute fool, he’d left work early to do something even more ridiculously impulsive. The consequence of that decision sat heavy in his pocket, a constant reminder that he was already in far deeper than he’d intended. He took another sip of his drink, grounding himself. Or trying hard to, at least.
Fingers snapped in front of his face. He blinked and found himself staring at three familiar, curious expressions studying him far too closely. He was out for dinner with three of his closest friends—Dheer, Vir, and Amara.
The Malhotra siblings had been his friends for many years now, and they knew him well enough to notice when his mind went somewhere it had no business being. He studied the three of them.
Vir was all charm and chaos. The middle sibling who’d somehow become one of the most recognizable faces in the country. Movie star. Tabloid favorite. Trouble magnet.
He sat back in his chair, lips curling into a wicked grin as he gave Akash an exaggerated once-over.
“Alright,” Vir said, his voice dripping with mischief. “Who were you undressing in your head just now?”
Akash exhaled, feeling amused. “Sorry. I was just… lost for a second.”
“It was more than that,” Dheer said calmly.
Akash glanced at him.
Dheer Malhotra was three years older and eternally composed. He was watching him with the same sharp focus that had once made him the lead guitarist of the band Rhapsody, back when sold-out arenas and award-winning albums had defined his life.
A few years ago, Dheer had been forced to step away from the band and take over the family’s production house. A string of bad corporate decisions taken by his grandfather, combined with his grandfather’s heart ailment had left him no choice. Since then, he had rebuilt the business, turning it into a success greater than it had ever been. Although Suveer Malhotra had recovered and continued to believe he was running the show, it was Dheer who truly held the reins.
But the past had left its mark on Dheer. These days, he was far too serious for his own good and far too perceptive.
“So, are you going to tell us who you were thinking about?” Dheer asked.
“Yeah,” Amara chimed in, lifting her glass of whiskey with a knowing smile.
Vir leaned forward, his eyes gleaming. “Honestly, you looked like you were yearning.”
Akash shot him a look. “Yearning?”
“For someone,” Dheer added dryly.
Vir straightened abruptly, his eyes widening. “Oh my God.” He pointed at Akash, delighted. “Akash Karia, tell me this isn’t happening. Is there a woman in your life you haven’t told us about?”
Akash’s grip tightened imperceptibly around his glass. Shauna’s face flashed through his mind. Defiant eyes, trembling lips, the way she’d melted into him despite claiming she wouldn’t.
He said nothing. Which, of course, told them everything.
The three of them grinned. They’d known him for far too long. They’d all been at school with him in Dehradun. Dheer had been older, Keya’s age, and honestly, they’d gotten close much later. But Vir, Amara, and he had been friends since school.
Amara was a year younger than Vir and him, but she’d been a constant in his life for as long as he could remember. She’d even followed Vir and him to study in the UK. More recently, he, Dheer, and Vir had become very close to Armaan, Nirvaan, and Rohan as well.
“Who is she?” Vir demanded, pushing his fake glasses up his nose. “I want her name. Now.” He tugged the cap lower over his forehead.
Vir’s face was splashed across TV screens, magazine covers, and billboards throughout the country. Stepping out with himwas always challenging, but they made it work mostly by choosing elite bars and restaurants where people didn’t really bother him even if he was recognized. And mostly because Vir concealed his identity behind a cap and glasses.
And then there was Amara. She looked relaxed, but Akash knew better. As Head of Talent and Content Strategy at Malhotra Productions, Amara was rarely off duty. Casting decisions, creative partnerships, long-term talent grooming—nothing significant in their production house moved forward without her imprint. She had an instinct for people that was always spot-on. She didn’t just launch talent; she shaped careers. She was a force to be reckoned with in India’s film and television industry. And yet, her grandfather never appreciated her for the powerhouse she was.
The three of them each gave him an amused look. Akash sighed. When Vir had called earlier in the evening asking him to meet them, he’d agreed immediately, knowing he’d have to tell them about his marriage to Shauna and about their grandfather.
He had to tell Keya too. But he was delaying that. Keya wouldn’t take this news easily. And like a coward, he didn’t want to tell her until the moment he absolutely had to.
Exhaling slowly, he set his glass down and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “I have to tell you all something. It’s very important that you don’t repeat a word of this to anyone else.”
Vir stilled. He shared a glance with his siblings before nodding once.
