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Someromantic candles for ambiance.
“What’sall this?”
Heshrugged. “Ihave an hour beforeIhave to leave for my flight.Ithought we could have that romantic night in.”
Myheart warmed asJayopened the bottle and poured two glasses.Drinkinga bottle of my favorite wine was our tradition on date nights.Despitethe abrupt departure, the effort was incredibly charming.
Yup,JayAmbanihad always been the right choice, andIwas the luckiest girl on the planet.
ChapterSix
* * *
Axel
Imentally scoldedPiyafor using her kid’s birthday as the code to enter her home; 0703.Theinformation was easy to uncover, and it’d be the first thing any smart criminal would try.Peoplegenerally used birthdays as codes and passwords.
Itsked, annoyed.Didshe not realize the easy pin made her unsuspecting prey?Sillywoman.WhatifIhad been a lunatic breaking into her home?
Istepped inside, only to freeze in place when the wooden floorboards creaked under my weight.Icarefully removed my shoes and socks, treading barefoot on the boards instead.Thehallway into the house was poorly lit, but it didn’t dissuade me from taking a tour and searching for clues to her life.Despitethe recent move, there were no signs of it or unopened boxes in any of the rooms.Thingswere orderly enough in the kitchen, dishes put away, and counters wiped down.Multipleoversized couches with throw blankets made the living room appear homey.Itreflected a rich family’s home, but nothing was over the top.Piya’spersonality shined through here and there with a sequined throw pillow and a grand piano with an uncovered lid.Iran my fingers lightly over every surface, taking in the life she had painted with the minor details.
Suddenly, something caught my attention out of the corner of my eye.Craningmy neck,Itook in the living room side tables.Therewere a few picture frames placed neatly on each one.Oneappeared to be ofPiya’sdaughter, and the next was ofPiyawith her daughter.Itwas the last few photos that had my fingers curling and my blood boiling.
Piyaon her wedding day withAmbani.
Afamily portrait of the three of them.
Aphoto ofAmbaniwith their daughter.
Theshock of seeing them together—pretending to be a happy family—stilled me in place, saving the frames from meeting their maker.Isharply advised myself not to throw the frames against the wall.IfIfollowed the basic instinct of shattering the frames, it would wakePiyaup.ThenI’dhave to deal with her screaming and would most likely have to tie her down to stop her from calling security.It’dbe a whole thing becausePiyawas dramatic and wouldn’t take me breaking into her house lightly.
No, it wouldn’t serve me well to risk wakingPiyaup, not while the grand prize was within my grasp.Instead,Iremoved the photos from the frame and carelessly toreAmbaniout of every picture before replacing them again.She’dpay the price for displaying his images.Fornow, she’d be freaked out after discovering the state of these photos.It’dhave to suffice as punishment.
Myinstructions had been explicit; remove all traces ofAmbani.Ihad a feelingPiyawouldn’t be susceptible to the suggestion and tasked my head of security detail,Levi, with stirring up trouble forAmbaniat his home office inChicago.Assholehad to return on an impromptu flight.Itwould’ve been a cleaner break hadPiyatold him it was over before he left.
Piyawill eventually learnI’llalways be one step ahead of herANDhave a backup to make things go my way.
ItrashedAmbani’sphotos after ripping them to shreds, then picked up the picture ofPiyaand her daughter.Itwas a shame her daughter could no longer maintain a relationship withAmbani.SincePiyawas mine, her daughter would belong under my care by proxy.Allowingher the fanciful notions of a relationship with her ex-father would only be cruel toward the child.Betterif she forgot him as soon as possible.
Iturned a corner from the main area to investigate the bedrooms.Oneof the rooms had been converted into a home office.Thenext one likely belonged toPiya’sdaughter, though it lacked the personalityI’dpresume a young girl to possess.Thethird room was my destination.
Myfootsteps remained deft asIenteredPiya’sbedroom.Itwas mildly cold, though the heated floors warmed the temperature.Softlights streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows since she had left the curtains open.Itilluminated the room—though not by much—just enough to highlight the figure sprawled underneath the covers.
Agood view of her was problematic under the dim lighting, soIlowered and sat at the edge ofPiya’sbed.Itwas still too dark, andIhad to lean close to make out her features.
Chocolate-colored hair fanned the pillow while long lashes reached for her high cheekbones.Creamyolive skin made her racially ambiguous.Itwas the feature that had initially piqued my interest, andItried figuring out her ethnicity.EvenafterI’dsolved the mystery (she wasIndian),Icouldn’t stop watching her.
Herskin was still smooth enough to wonder if she was made from porcelain, and her pink lips only added to the illusion of a life-sized doll.Abroken doll,Isurmised after taking in the large empty bottle ofChiantialong with the equally drained wine glass on her nightstand.
“Theparent will play when the kid is away,”Imuttered, gently brushing away the tangled hair off her forehead.Shedidn’t stir, an aftereffect of the alcohol.
Iwas surprisedPiyahad polished off the bottle.Permy sources, the princess avoided drinking heavily.Ourencounter must have shaken her.Shewasn’t accepting of her fate just yet, but she would be soon.
Piyaclutched the blanket onto her chest, perhaps hoping to somehow regain control of her life in her sleep.Tomy annoyance, the pose hid most of her skin, andIcould only gorge on the visible surfaces.Iwould have pulled the blanket off.Nevertheless, haste was unnecessary.Thewine had done a number on her, andPiyawas out cold for the rest of the night.
Myplans of watching her for hours came to a halt when my gaze landed on another unwelcome perpetrator.Apretentious shopping bag with wrapping tissue sticking out of it sat proudly onPiya’sdresser beside her beauty products.Shehad bought an expensive-looking gift, but for whom?Itdidn’t look like something a child would appreciate, which could only mean one thing.Iparted the shopping bag and found an unopened bottle of cologne,DiorSauvage.
Istilled, my irritation rising by the second.Thiswas unprecedented, even if she had purchased the item before our text exchange.Therewere no upcoming holidays, no birthdays, or an anniversary to celebrate.Thiswas not an obligatory gift.Shewas thinking about him.
