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Picking up my intercom, I press the button to connect to my secretary. She answers the call on the first ring.
“Joey, please send Ms Alisha in now,” I instruct over the call in my crisp bossy tone.
There is a pause before Joey replies, “Sir, Miss Alisha has left.”
“She left? Did she leave any message for me?”
“No, Sir, I tried to stop her but she turned a deaf ear to my call out and left.”
“Thanks, Joey,” I say as I hang up the call.
Damn!Did she really leave?There must be some miscommunication. Maybe she is hanging around.With that in mind, I call the lobby, asking if she left the building, only to find out she indeed left about an hour ago.Did she actually walk out on me without any message or explanation?I did make it clear I have matters to discuss. My foul mood escalates. She for sure isn’t acting like a bride who is excited to see her rich husband. If any other person had walked out before I was ready for them to leave, I would root them out, but this can’t be tackled in the Goddamn professional way. It is personal.
Pulling a few strings and making calls, I have her mobile number and the address of her boutique. I didn’t want to involve Grandpa, hence the indirect route. I grab my black coat from the chair and head to my car. Looks like I am going to have a good chat with my would-be. I don’t bother informing her about my arrival and can’t help but smile as I picture her reaction when I catch her off-guard.
It takes me about an hour as I swerve through the traffic, after which I pull in front of her boutique. My lips curve into a smile when I see the hoarding ofAlisha Kapadia’s den. That will soon change toAlisha Seth.Not bad. Mrs Alisha Seth sure has a nice ring to it.
As soon as I step through the doors, I notice all eyes riveted towards me. There are a couple of women, who are now giving me a sly smile, whispering among themselves. I am not immune to the effect I have on females. Ignoring them, I browse the space. Though small, it’s a chic boutique with simple yet attractive interiors. I am impressed.
My eyes then begin to search for Alisha when a young girl steps away from the group of ladies she was talking to and walks in my direction. She is pretty but doesn’t hold my interest.
“Can we please step out for a minute?” she says in her fake honey-coated voice, pointing at the door.
My brows pull together in confusion as I give her a blank look but I find myself saying, “Sure. Lead the way.”
Once we step out, she closes the door behind her and turns to face me.
“What the hell are you doing here?” She whisper yells at me as she eyes me suspiciously.
I narrow my eyes on her. No woman has ever spoken to me in that tone. But again, no woman has ever walked out on me. Today doesn’t seem to be my day.
“I think you don’t know me. Let me introduce myself to you. I am Ranveer Seth. I am here to meet my fiancée, Alisha,” I smirk. That will surely put her in her place.
She folds her arms across her chest and glares at me. “I know who you are, you jerk.”
“And you are?” I scowl at the annoying minion in front of me. She sure is rubbing me the wrong way with her sassy comment.
“I am Rewa, Alisha’s assistant. Now answer me what brings you here when you conduct like a man incapacitated for any sort of consideration,” she says through her clenched teeth.
“There is a misunderstanding here.”
“There is no misunderstanding. So, you may leave,” she states, dismissing me. If she assumes that she can brush me off, then she has another think coming.
“We can play this game all day long, but I have matters to discuss with my bride. So, either you can tell me where she is, or better yet, I have my ways of finding out. However, let me warn you, I am not leaving this place till I don’t talk to Alisha. Also, this stubbornness of yours might cause an issue for your customers. And I don’t think you would wish for that to happen.” My face is deadpan as I say that.
She shoots daggers at me before replying, “She is in the store room, checking the stock.”
“Storeroom?” I raise my eyebrows and ask.
“Once you step in, it’s the room to the further end on the left.”
Giving her a curt nod, I am about to walk back in when her voice stops me.
“You know, I have seen over forty crime documentaries,” she states with a fake wide smile, batting her eyelashes.
“And I should know this. Why?” My foot starts tapping impatiently as I wait to get the hell away from her.
“Because if you hurt her, then I will make sure no one finds your body,” she says with a long look before she turns and walks in.
