Chapter 2: Iraansh Rathore

Here comes the second chapter 🫶🏻

Author's POV

The skyline of Manhattan never slept, but neither did Iraansh Rathore. Years ago he made a mistake that he can't change, that made him lose everything his family, his dreams and the love of his life..

His father is a very strong and famous politician, and his mother is a doctor. His parents are his life, but now everything is changed they hate him for whatever he did 8 years ago. It's not their fault though he never let them know the actual reason of his doing

Now he stood looking outside from a giant building he calls his office, which he made from a scratch, without any help from anyone.

Floor-to-ceiling windows wrapped around his office like the arms of a city that had adopted him, challenged him, made him bleed, and then crowned him. Rathore Industries lit up the 57th floor of the Midtown high-rise in bold, minimal elegance—everything was sharp lines, black marble, and silence.

The kind of silence you hear when memories speak louder than words.

Iraansh stood at the window, untouched scotch in hand, staring at the blurred reflection of himself against the neon glow of the city. Eight years. It didn't feel that long until it did. Until her face flickered into his thoughts like it always did when things got quiet

Iraansh's  POV

Kaainat

Even now, after eight years, her name hits like a wound that never closed properly. I walked away from her without warning, without an explanation that made any sense. Just a letter I couldn't even bring myself to sign properly.

I thought I was protecting her. Back then, my life was chaos—violence, power games, people watching from the shadows. Loving me would've ruined her. At least that's the lie I fed myself to sleep.

"Bro," came the voice that always managed to cut through the fog in my head. "You gonna actually drink that or just keep vibing with your emotional damage?"

I turned to find Arjun—my best friend, pain-in-the-ass therapist, and resident life commentator—kicked back on the couch like he paid the rent here.

"Didn't hear you come in."

"You were having one of your 'brooding billionaire' moments again. The window, the drink, the tortured expression—classic Rathore."

I smirked. "You done?"

"Not even close."

Before I could fire back, the door cracked open. Cecilia stepped in—sharp as ever, hair tight in that no-nonsense bun, tablet in hand like a weapon. She didn't wait for permission to speak.

"Change of plans. Barcelona's been moved up. Jet leaves at 9:00 AM tomorrow. It's a full-week trip—I've forwarded your updated itinerary."

I frowned. "That was supposed to be next week."

"Well, now it's tomorrow. Legal will brief you at 7:00, and your suit fitting's been moved up. I didn't pack the gray. You look like a funeral in that one."

"Thank you for your concern."

"I live to serve," she deadpanned, then turned to leave.

But before the door closed, she paused. "You okay?"

It threw me off. She never asked that. Not in that tone. Not like that.

I gave her a nod. That was all I could manage.

After she left, I sat back in the chair, the silence folding around me again—until Arjun broke it with a low whistle.

. "Barcelona, huh? I'm assuming you're taking the private jet and not economy like us peasants?"

"I'll send you a postcard."

Arjun grinned. "Make it one of those weird ones with a guy in a flamenco dress."

"You think it's stupid?" I asked, turning to him. "That I still think about her? After all this time?"

Arjun didn't even hesitate. "No. I think it means you're not completely made of steel."

"I walked away from the only person I've ever—" I stopped myself. The words were too raw to finish.

Arjun sat up. "Then maybe it's time you ask yourself the one question you've been dodging for years."

"What question?"

"What if she never needed saving? What if she just needed you?"

That one landed hard.

Silence settled again, but this time it wasn't cold. It held something... unresolved.

The kind of silence just before something begins.

Barcelona was tomorrow. New meetings. New faces. New masks.

Again my eyes went to the travel folder Cecilia left behind, the neatly printed dates and times blurring as my thoughts scattered.

Then, before I could think better of it, I said, "Come with me."

Arjun looked up. "What?"

"To Barcelona. Come with me."

He blinked, then leaned forward. "You serious right now?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I don't know why, but... I feel like this trip isn't just business. Like something's going to shift. I just... I don't want to face it alone."

Arjun studied me for a second, eyes sharper than he usually let on. "You alright, man?"

"No," I said honestly. "But I will be. Maybe. I don't know. Just—come."

He broke into a slow grin. "Wow. I always dreamed of this day. The cold, emotionally unavailable CEO finally asking me to come with him on a European soul-searching journey. It's like a Netflix original."

I rolled my eyes. "You're lucky I don't fire you from our friendship."

"Nah, you love me." He stood, stretched, and downed the rest of his drink. "Alright, boss. Let's go find out what Barcelona has to say."

As he clapped a hand on my shoulder, I caught my reflection in the glass behind him.

Same suit. Same jawline. Same eyes.

But something was different now. A shift, like the first crack before a dam breaks.

And maybe, just maybe, I was finally ready to stop running from the past.

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Note-

Hola beautiful people 😘 I know I know it's a short chapter, but as I say I write whatever I have on my mind 😅 don't worry slowly I will try to think more for now manage ha😘🫶🏻😅