Chapter 22

The silence between them had weight. Not awkward. Not tense. Just undeniably present, like something unspoken sat between them, waiting to be acknowledged.

Aria rolled the key fob between her fingers before holding it out to Kabir.

His brow lifted slightly. "What's this?"

"You wanted to see what I've got," she said, watching him carefully. "Now, I want to see what you have."

For a moment, Kabir didn't move. Then, with quiet precision, he took the keys from her, his fingers brushing against hers—just a whisper of contact, but somehow heavier than it should have been.

Neither of them said a word as they switched places.

The engine rumbled low and deep as Kabir started the car, adjusting the seat and mirrors with practiced ease. The moment he pulled onto the road, Aria felt the shift.

Where she had driven with thrill, with abandon, Kabir drove with control.

He didn't rush. He didn't push. But his grip was firm, his turns perfectly measured.

He commanded the road the way he commanded everything else in his life—with quiet, effortless power.

And yet…

Something about him felt distant. Almost too quiet.

She glanced at him. "You okay?"

His fingers flexed around the wheel. "I'm fine."

But he wasn't. She could feel it.

Something was different. The air between them had shifted after that kiss, and for once, Kabir wasn't teasing, wasn't trying to win.

He was just existing.

Aria hesitated. "Do you want to—" She trailed off, then exhaled. "Do you want to stay for a bit? Talk?"

Kabir's hands stayed on the wheel, his expression unreadable.

Then, after a long pause, he glanced at her. "Are you sure?"

Aria swallowed.

For the first time, he was giving her a choice.

No games. No challenges. Just a quiet question—one that she knew carried more weight than it should.

She nodded. "Yes."

Fifteen minutes later, they sat outside her villa by the pool, the warm night air wrapping around them. The pool shimmered under the golden lanterns, the quiet hum of the resort settling around them like a cocoon.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

Aria pulled her knees to her chest, staring out at the still water.

Then, softly, she asked, "Did you always want this?"

Kabir turned his head slightly. "This?"

"This life. The power. The empire."

A pause. Then, Kabir exhaled, tilting his head back slightly, eyes scanning the stars.

"No," he admitted. "I never wanted power. I just wanted to be free."

Something in her chest tightened.

He wasn't saying it with anger. Not even with bitterness.

Just… acceptance.

Aria rested her chin on her knees. "From your father?"

A muscle ticked in Kabir's jaw. He didn't look at her.

"My father wasn't just controlling," he said, voice measured. "He was—ruthless. Cold. Every move, every decision, every relationship was a transaction to him."

Aria didn't breathe.

"He liked control because he liked watching people bend to it," Kabir continued. "And if you didn't bend, he broke you."

Her throat felt tight.

She had known, in some way, that Kabir had built himself up from nothing. But she hadn't realized… this.

His voice dropped lower. "When my mother died, he didn't even let me grieve. He expected me to step up. To take her place as his perfect heir."

Aria's stomach twisted.

For the first time, she understood.

Kabir didn't seek control because he enjoyed it. He sought it because he had spent his whole life under someone else's.

Because if he was in control, no one could ever control him again.

She swallowed. "So you built your own world instead."

Kabir's lips curled slightly, but there was no humor in it. "I built a world where I never had to depend on anyone again."

She exhaled, shaking her head slightly. "And now?"

His eyes flickered to hers.

"What?"

She met his gaze. "Do you still believe that? That you don't need anyone?"

A pause.

A muscle in his jaw ticked again, his fingers tapping idly against his glass. But he didn't answer.

Aria didn't push.

Because she knew the answer.

Instead, she turned back to the water.

For a long time, she thought she was the only one who had to fight to be seen.

But Kabir? He had fought too. Just in a different way.

She let out a small, sharp exhale. "It's funny."

Kabir raised a brow. "What is?"

"We're so different," she said, shaking her head. "But… we're also kind of the same."

His expression didn't change, but something in his eyes softened.

Aria leaned her head back against the couch, stretching out her legs. "I spent my whole life proving I belonged. That I deserved a seat at the table. But no matter what I did, my father always saw me as…" She exhaled. "A means to an end. A business deal waiting to happen."

Kabir frowned slightly. "You weren't supposed to work?"

She let out a hollow laugh. "I was allowed to work." She rolled her eyes. "Can you imagine? Allowed. Like it was some kind of privilege."

Something dark flashed across Kabir's face, but he didn't interrupt.

"My father's whole plan for me was to marry well. Make the right connections. Strengthen business ties. I wasn't a daughter—I was an asset."

She swallowed.

"So I fought. I fought tooth and nail to prove that I was more than that. That I deserved to be here—not because of a last name, not because of a marriage proposal, but because I made myself into something they couldn't ignore."

A beat of silence.

Then—quietly, with something undeniably real in his voice, Kabir said, "And now?"

Aria met his gaze.

"Now," she murmured, "I don't care if they ignore me. I just want to be free."

The words settled between them.

And for the first time in her life, she felt like someone actually understood.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

Then—Kabir smirked. "We're both tragic, aren't we?"

Aria snorted. "God, that's depressing."

A chuckle rumbled through his chest. "Not what I was going for, but alright."

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, no more deep talk. Tell me something ridiculous about you."

He huffed. "Ridiculous?"

"Yeah, like something I wouldn't expect."

Kabir exhaled, shaking his head. Then, finally— "I've seen every season of MasterChef."

Aria's jaw dropped.

"No."

He gave a small, amused shrug. "I like watching people struggle to cook under pressure."

She burst out laughing. "That is so on brand for you."

He smirked. "Your turn."

Aria grinned, leaning in slightly. "I once got banned from a casino in Goa."

Kabir's brow shot up. "You gamble?"

She winked. "Only when I know I'm going to win."

His laughter was low, warm, real.

For the first time that night, everything felt easy.

Until her phone buzzed.

She frowned, glancing at the screen.

Aarav.

Kabir saw.

And just like that, the warmth in his eyes flickered out.

He stood. "I should go."

Aria looked up. "Kabir—"

But he was already stepping back, voice steady. "Goodnight, Aria."

And before she could stop him,

he was gone.