Chapter 14: The Territorial War
[System Notification: Room Occupancy Error — Intruder Alert!]
Julian didn't just "stay." He colonized.
Within twenty minutes, he had moved his leather trunks into the guest room, redirected the farmhouse Wi-Fi to his laptop, and was currently demanding the staff bring him "a decent espresso that doesn't taste like burnt beans."
Ananya was locked in the bathroom, having a silent crisis, which left me and Ishaan standing in the hallway, staring at the closed door of the only other bedroom.
"He's staying," I whispered, horrified. "Ishaan, he's in the room where I was supposed to hide from you!"
Ishaan was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. He looked surprisingly calm, though the muscle in his jaw was twitching. "The mothers are delighted. They think he's a 'surprise blessing' sent to finalize Ananya's happiness. If we kick him out, the whole 'Perfect Ananya' lie collapses, and our 'Fake Engagement' gets audited."
"So... what? I'm back in the Signature Suite?"
Ishaan looked at me, a slow, predatory smirk spreading across his face. It was the look of a man who had just been handed exactly what he wanted by his worst enemy.
"Technically," he said, pushing off the wall and walking toward me until I was backed against the doorframe, "as my 'fiancée,' it would look very suspicious if you slept in the bathtub again. Julian is looking for cracks, Meera. One slip-up, and he calls your boss back to tell him the truth."
[System Notification: Forced Proximity — Level: EXTREME]
The Bed Partition 2.0
The night was even more tense than the first. The presence of Julian downstairs—like a cold, calculating shadow—made the suite feel like a bunker.
Ishaan was already in bed, propped up against the headboard with a medical journal, looking unfairly attractive in a simple black undershirt. I crawled in on my side, maintaining a strict six-inch "Demilitarized Zone" between us.
"You're shaking," Ishaan said, not looking up from his book.
"It's the air conditioning," I lied.
"The AC is off, Meera." He sighed, closing the journal and turning to face me. The lamp on his bedside cast a golden glow over the sharp lines of his face. "Are you scared of me? Or are you scared of what Julian said?"
"He's right about one thing," I whispered, staring at the ceiling. "I'm an architect who can't even hold a job. I'm living a lie with my childhood friend because I'm too afraid to face my mom. Julian is a jerk, but he's a successful jerk. What am I?"
Ishaan moved. Before I could react, he had crossed the pillow barrier. He propped himself up on one elbow, hovering over me. The proximity was overwhelming—I could smell the mint from his toothpaste and the faint scent of the soap he used.
"You are the girl who designed a library for a primary school using only recycled wood when you were twenty," he said, his voice a low, fervent hum. "You are the person who stays up until 4:00 AM making sure a staircase is safe for a family you've never met. Julian builds glass boxes for people with no souls. You build homes, Meera."
He reached out, his hand sliding under my neck, his thumb grazing my jawline. My breath hitched.
"And as for the 'fiancé' thing..." He leaned down, his forehead resting against mine. "If you think I'm doing this just to save your job, you're a much worse architect than I thought. You're terrible at reading foundations."
"Ishaan..."
"I've been building this foundation for ten years, Meera. I'm just waiting for you to move in."
The Morning Ambush
CRASH!
The sound of a plate breaking downstairs shattered the moment.
"GIVE IT BACK!" Ananya's voice shrieked from the kitchen.
We both scrambled out of bed. I threw on a robe, and Ishaan grabbed his shirt, and we ran downstairs to find a scene of pure chaos.
Julian was standing in the middle of the kitchen, holding Ananya's private sketchbook—the one filled with her café designs—aloft, out of her reach.
"So this is the 'Tech Hub'?" Julian sneered, flipping through the pages. "Pastries? Floral arrangements? Ananya, this is pathetic. Your mother is going to be so disappointed when I show her that her investment is going toward a bakery."
The mothers were standing by the door, frozen. Mrs. Khanna's face was pale. "Ananya? What is he talking about? What bakery?"
Julian turned to the mothers, a triumphant grin on his face. "Your daughter has been lying to you. There is no London sabbatical. There is no tech project. And as for Meera and Ishaan..."
He pointed a finger at us as we came down the stairs.
"They aren't engaged. I checked the local registries this morning. There's no record. It's all a performance to keep you from seeing that your children are failures."
[System Notification: Truth Bomb Detonated — Damage: 100%]
The silence that followed was deafening. My mother looked at me, her eyes filling with tears. Mrs. Khanna looked at the sketchbook in Julian's hand.
Ishaan stepped forward, his face like stone. But before he could speak, I felt a surge of adrenaline. No more lies. No more "Altitude Therapy."
"He's right," I said, my voice echoing through the kitchen.
Ishaan looked at me, shocked. "Meera?"
"We aren't engaged," I said, looking my mother straight in the eye. "And Ananya isn't a CEO. But Julian is wrong about one thing."
I walked over, snatched the sketchbook from Julian's hand, and handed it to Mrs. Khanna.
"She's not a failure. She's an artist. And if you can't see that, then you're the one who failed her."
Julian rolled his eyes. "Very dramatic. But now that the truth is out, I think it's time we all—"
"I think it's time you shut up," Ishaan interrupted, his voice dangerously quiet. He walked up to Julian, his chest inches from the Englishman's. "Because while the 'engagement' might have started as a lie... my feelings for her didn't. And as for you? You have exactly sixty seconds to get out of this house before I call the police for the theft of that sketchbook."
"You wouldn't," Julian scoffed.
Ishaan pulled out his phone. "Try me. I have the viral video of you breaking in. It has 50k views now. Want to see how the 'locals' treat a thief?"
[Author's Corner]
THE TRUTH IS OUT! 😱 Julian spilled everything! But wait... did Ishaan just admit his feelings were real in front of the MOMS?!
Current Status:
Ananya: Exposed but finally free.
The Mothers: Heartbroken and confused.
Meera: Unemployed and officially "Single" again?
Ishaan: Ready for a real confession?