Page 97 of Carnal Games

She had a conscience and resisted him for the longest time while being attracted to him. Through each entry she wrote, I felt her dilemma, the struggle, and how Rakesh disguised manipulation as charm, going as far as to say he’d leave his wife for her. Then something happened that showed his true colors. The pages where I think she mentioned the tragedy have been torn out.

Probably done by Rakesh before he stashed the diary in Kian’s room, confident it was the securest place in the house. No wonder he forbids anyone from traipsing in there.

After discovering the vindictive man he is, there was no way I was letting him ruin Nathan’s life with his backstabbing. A man like that doesn’t even spare his sons.

Who knows what more deadly skeletons he’s hiding?

I don’t know why I got the urge to read the diary again. The last entry never fails to bring me pain at the anguish in those words. Some of them resonate with me; make me question my choices.

Am I chasing after a bad man too? Setting myself up for heartbreak? Is he worthy of me?

All these thoughts circle my brain.

On the surface, all the signs are there.

Kian is calculating, menacing, and downright cruel when he wants to be. He and his company are under investigation over missing women. He has an elite gentlemen’s club that houses some of the most heinous and terrifying men from the north.

Then there’s another side of him, hidden beneath the surface of his tough shell. The protector who spent a million rupees to save me.

The thoughtful version who climbed four flights of stairs because he knew I was too scared to use the elevator.

The sweet one who never threw out the plants I bought for his office. I had been waiting for him to leave for the day just so I could take them home with me rather than letting the cleaning staff throw them in the trash. But they never reached there.

A soulless man would never do any of this. He’d simply walk away.

So yeah, I’m going to take a leap of faith and win his heart. I’m going to chip away at all his walls one by one.

Because to me, Kian Singhania is worth all the heartbreak and the trouble.

Sunday is here, which means I made it a week with him despite a few ups and downs. Who better to celebrate with than him? Along with starting on my mission: tear down my scary reaper’s walls.

Course of action: breakfast.

I’m just praying he’s home. It’s the weekend, he has to be, right? Even multibillionaires must enjoy a lazy Sunday.

Giving my reflection a once-over in the mirror in the living room, I slip on my fluffy bunny slippers and go into the hall. As I walk over to his door, I raise my fist to knock but at the last second, I drop my hand.

Chewing on my lip, I contemplate whether or not to disturb him. What if he’s sleeping and I wake him up? What if he has a woman over? Shit. That makes me want to storm inside and yank her out of his apartment by her hair.

“Did you need something?”

With a yelp, I whirl around at the sound of his deep voice and almost wish I didn’t because… Lord have mercy, a shirtless and sweaty Kian steps out of the elevator with a towel draped around his neck.

S. H. I. R. T. L. E. S. S.

And is that a tattoo?

Oh! I think I’m going to faint. A black and intricate tribal design swirls up his left arm, starting from the middle of his forearm and curling around his bicep and stopping at his shoulder.

The shape of his naked upper body, all sleek with unleashed power and a dark smattering of hair to add to his masculinity is dangerous to my unhealthy obsession with him. Yet I can’t drag my eyes away.

They shamelessly roam lower, making my jaw come loose at the sight of his museum-worthy set of eight-pack abs that taper into a lean waist and leading to the mouthwatering V visible in all its glory, thanks to his black shorts hanging low.

Is his sinewy body for real? I can make out each slab of muscle. They’re that cut, tightening with every gulp of his breathing.

It seems he’s returning from a heavy workout.

His physique is like a lethal weapon, rendering me mesmerized.

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