"I have a meeting to attend. Once I'm done, I'll come and accompany you," he said, leaning down and pressing a quick, tender kiss to her forehead. His voice softened as he added, "If you need anything, just tell the nurse, my assistant's number is with her. Wait for me."
He caressed her soft lips lightly with his thumb, lingering for a moment longer than necessary, before pulling away with obvious reluctance.
Anya stared at his retreating figure, her mind blank.
'Did he just… kiss me?'
Apart from her brothers and uncle, no man had ever touched her so intimately. She clenched the blanket with her trembling fingers, her heart hammering wildly in her chest.
"How dare he kiss me without permission." she grumbled under her breath, touching the spot where his lips had brushed against her skin. Her cheeks betrayed her, blooming into a soft pink hue despite the anger simmering within her.
"Next time, I'll break his bones before he even thinks about touching me," she swore silently.
But deep down, she knew he wasn't like those who had tried to harm her.
Still, she couldn't let her guard down.
He is dangerous... dangerous for my brain and my heart, she warned herself sternly.
Curling further into the bed, her mind began to race again.
He called me Nina. So... he doesn't know my real identity yet. I have to contact Big Brother before things get worse. But for that... I need a laptop.
Exhaustion weighed heavily on her battered body. Without realising it, her eyelids fluttered shut, and she drifted into a deep, uneasy sleep.
.
.
.
By the time Anya woke up, it was six past thirty minutes.
The room was dimly lit, casting long shadows across the floor.
Agastya was already back, true to his word; he had finished his work quickly and arranged a two-day break to stay by her side.
She felt the brush of fingers wrapping gently around her hand. Instinctively, she yanked her hand away and shot him an offended look.
Yes, she admitted silently, he was handsome. His touch didn't disgust her.
But that didn't mean she would allow a stranger to hold her hand whenever he pleased!
No.
She needed to observe him longer before even considering the idea of trusting him.
'Agastya…'
The name stirred something deep within her, a flicker of a memory, but she couldn't quite catch it.
'Where have I heard it before?' She frowned in frustration.
'Ahem'
She was pulled out of her swirling thoughts.
"Are you thinking about me?" Agastya teased, flashing her a smug smile that only deepened the frown on her face.
He chuckled lightly. "You wear your thoughts on your face, you know. Don't worry, I'm not a bad guy…."
"No one in this world admits they're bad. Especially not someone who touches a woman he barely knows," Anya cut him off coldly.
Her sharp words stunned him into silence.
"What do you want from me?" Her voice turned suspicious, guarded.
Agastya smiled softly, his eyes glinting with something she couldn't read.
"I want nothing from you... not yet, at least. For now, I only want you to recover." He paused. "But yes, I do have a motive for bringing you back from Las Vegas."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop instantly.
Anya's sharp gaze locked onto his, a deathly stillness falling over her.
Agastya stiffened under her scrutiny. As the heir to the Varde empire, he'd faced countless dangerous situations, but under her icy stare, even he felt an unfamiliar chill crawling down his spine.
He gulped, gathering courage.
"I want to pursue you," he confessed in a low, serious voice.
Anya blinked, completely caught off guard. "What?"
"I want to pursue you," he repeated without hesitation, "and once I succeed, I want to marry you. Build a life, a family... with you."
His sincerity was so stark, so unwavering, that it left her speechless.
Her heart skipped a beat, but her mind screamed at her not to believe so easily.
People can fake sincerity, she mocked herself bitterly.
Stay sharp, Anya. You can't afford mistakes again.
Meeting his steady gaze, she narrowed her eyes.
"I need a laptop," she demanded curtly.
"Not until you're discharged," he replied smoothly.
"When can I leave?"
"When the doctor approves," he said simply, refusing to give in.
They stared each other down, a silent battle of wills, until exhaustion gnawed at Anya's bones.
"Rest well. I'll be in the next room. Call me if you need anything. Good night, baby," he said, tucking the blanket around her with surprising gentleness.
"Who's your baby?!" she snapped, glaring at him.
Agastya just grinned mischievously and leaned down to press a quick kiss to her cheek.
"You! Hooligan! You're taking advantage of me because I can't beat you right now, aren't you?!" she shouted furiously.
But Agastya had already escaped into his room, chuckling as he closed the door behind him.
Anya gritted her teeth, clenching her fists under the blanket.
.
.
.
Just as she was about to drift into sleep again, darkness engulfed her mind — and memories she had tried so hard to bury came crashing down.
"Bang, bang... chase after her! Don't let her escape!"
Men in black suits were chasing her through narrow alleys.
Her legs felt heavy, almost numb; the drug they had injected into her was taking effect, slowing her movements.
She cursed her carelessness.
If only I had been more vigilant!
Her hands trembled as she pulled out her phone, desperately trying to call her brother.
The screen blurred before her eyes.
Just as the call was about to connect — BANG!
A searing pain exploded in her right hip. She gasped, stumbling forward.
Before she could recover, a black car appeared out of nowhere, slamming into her with brutal force.
Her body flew through the air like a rag doll, crashing onto the cold, unforgiving road.
Blood splattered across the asphalt. Pain lanced through every nerve in her body.
Through the haze of agony, she saw the men approaching her, guns drawn.
BANG!
A bullet ripped through her chest, the impact making her body convulse.
"Let's go. She'll be dead in no time," one of them said, glancing at her battered form with disinterest.
"She looks like an angel… pity we had to kill her," another sneered.
"Never underestimate the Varma family," someone else muttered grimly.
As their figures blurred into the darkness, Anya, the proud princess of the Varma family, lay bleeding on the road, her life slipping away.
Tears mingled with the blood on her face.
"I'm sorry… brothers…" she whispered.
Then everything faded into a suffocating blackness.
Anya jerked awake, her body drenched in cold sweat.
Her heart raced violently in her chest.
Her trembling hands reached out for the glass of water beside her, but her strength failed her; the glass slipped through her fingers and shattered on the floor.