Page 73 of The Promise of a Traitor

Aakash cleared his throat and they looked at me. “I’ve gone over the café’s financials,” he said, ignoring Advik’s dark look. “You’ve built a very successful brand over the years. What do you think of starting more of them?” he asked.

“Really Thakkar?” Kanak asked acidly. “You want to talk business now?”

He ignored her, watching Aastha carefully. She frowned. “You mean franchising it? It will dilute the brand.”

“Or expanding. I’d be happy to invest in it,” he said, smiling.

Her heart stumbled even as she rushed to deny it. “You don’t mean that! I don’t want charity.”

“It’s only charity if it’s a bad business decision. I don’t make bad business decisions.”

“Oh take his money,” Kanak said with an affectionate glower at her husband. “He has more than he knows what to do with in several lifetimes.”

“And Aastha is going to make me even more,” Aakash said, smiling and holding out a hand to her. Aastha took it dazedly.

“Don’t worry about your father’s debt,” he said kindly. “The debt can be taken care of through the many cafes we start together. And,” he placed a gentle hand on the top of her hand, “Don’t worry about your father either. You have many fathers on this side of the family who are more than ready to stand in for him.”

Kanak sniffled. Aakash glanced at her, smiling slightly, “Are you crying, you termagant?”

“You’re just making me all hot and bothered by being so nice and sexy all at the same time,” she grumbled, grabbing him. “Now let’s go spend some quality time while these two do the same.”

She winked at Aastha as she led Aakash out of the room. And with that, she was left alone with Advik. An Advik who finally knew everything.

Chapter Forty-Five

Advik

The silence that fell after the Thakkars left was noisy. He could hear every accusation, every taunt, every insult he’d thrown at her resound in the quiet of the room. And he could feel the raw burn of shame, regret and guilt.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice hoarse from all the crying. “I should have-“

“No,” he said, cutting her off. “There’s nothing you should have or could have done. You’ve done everything you could or more. Good or bad, you had the best intentions. God, Aastha,” he exhaled hard, “I’m sorry.”

“Intentions,” she scoffed. “What good are intentions if the consequences of your choices are brutal? And I did do wrong, so much wrong. I did leave you without a word and fly back to India to marry another man.” She took a sip of her water.

Advik shook his head, pouring himself some water and going to sit beside her on the couch. “You did do that,” he agreed.

“You’re not exactly a saint either. You agreed to marry me so you could punish me for it,” she pointed out.

“I did. You weren’t planning to tell me that you called off your wedding for me.”

She snorted a laugh. “The ego on you,” she smirked, the familiar snark warming his heart. “I called off my wedding for me.”

He laughed, the sound bursting out of him. He was still chuckling when she added, “Because I was in love with you.”

“Was?” His heart expanded, the love he had for her threatening to burst through every pore of his.

“As always, you ask the wrong questions, Malhotra.”

“And you have the right ones lined up to ask?”

“I have the best ones. Starting with, were you going to jilt me at the engagement or at the mandap?” She rested her head against the backrest of the couch.

“I hadn’t quite figured out the details of my plan,” he muttered. “You were always the details person out of the two of us.”

“You want me to figure out the details for how you could ruin me?”

“Ruin you. Ruin me. It’s all the same, isn’t it?” he asked softly. “There isn’t one without the other.”