Silent Whisper -Chapter 30

She felt a strange sense of relief after freeing Maan from all obligations. Now, she could finally focus—both on her work and her personal life. The weight of legal battles was off her shoulders, giving her room to channel her energy into real work. And if ever Maan chose to accept her again, at least he wouldn’t have to bear the burden of her legal struggles.

She had always loved her work, but now, if her relationship needed more of her time, she was willing to give it—wholeheartedly—to Maan and the family. She wanted to be that family girl, not the sharp, calculating businesswoman he saw in her. She wanted Maan to see her simply as a woman madly in love with him—vulnerable, sincere, and his.

*********

It had been a week. Geet has not given up on work, but she feels relaxed. The empire heir issue has been paused; there is no reason for onlookers to claim whether her marriage is fake or real, and Maan does not have to submit the document unwillingly. And she can focus on work without any internal political distractions.

She wanted to mingle with family, putting in some effort and making her effort natural. And for that, she has to offload a bit from her professional side.

She cannot even imagine starting with Maan.

Maan was not the one she would even dare to go to at this moment. He sees things from a different perspective, and definitely, what she has done is not going down well with him. The way he sensed something and immediately bought the major shares of Handa is enough to give her the sense of it.

Today, Geet has decided not to go to her on-site office but is working in her study, which she has set up in one section of the huge room she has been provided with.

It was 11 am, Dadima was in her room, watching a television show.

“Can I come in, Dadima?” Savitri Devi heard Geet’s voice and turned to find she was already inside the room. She has sent her off so many times, but this girl doesn’t give up. Somehow, this time she could not. How can she be continuously rude to someone who is there to take all your rudeness every time?

“You won’t give up, so I give up. Come in, but do not expect me to be of much use in your mission.

Geet smiled and entered the room, too, to her seat.

“How are you, Dadima?”

I’m doing well and enjoying my days, with nothing bothering me, so there’s not much for you to gain any brownie points here.”

“I’m not looking to earn brownie points from anyone just for the sake of it; I simply want to feel included.”

“What do you achieve by being included when there is a high chance that Maan will finally, loud and clear, tell you off?”

Geet gave a small laugh. “Not one day, but every time I will meet him, he will say it loud and clear. But I will keep trying forever.”

“And one fine day, if he throws a divorce paper on your face, what will happen to your try”

“He has to sign it first, Dadima.”

“Fine, he will sign it, then?”

“I will continue trying to convince him until he truly connects with a girl who has marriage intentions and genuinely falls for her. However, this situation is not solely about Maan. Regardless of what happens between Maan and me, I will always consider his family to be mine. This is Maan’s family—people he grew up with, who are an integral part of him. I want to be a part of that family and make it my own. Doing so will keep me connected to him, regardless of the decisions he makes.”

Savitri Devi kept looking at her “One chance, please, dadima. Promise, I will stand by my family, be it whatever”

“Okay. But do not expect me to help you with Maan in any case.”

“No, absolutely not.”

Geet similarly went to Sandhya. Sandhay was a simple yet very rooted and firm lady. But her intentions were clear. She was not coming to them for Maan, but wanted to be included in the family.

Sandhya, just like Savitri Devi, did not give her an open-armed welcome to the family, but somewhere, reading the sincerity in her effort, gave her a chance.

******

Maan was deeply engrossed in his mission, and nothing could distract him from it—not even Geet and her antics. At least, that’s what he liked to believe. He had worked his way into Chadha’s inner circle and was already in the process of consuming them from within. It had to be slow—no warnings, no noise—just a quiet poisoning. Soon, they would be weak enough for him to strike openly, and then they would know exactly who had done it and why. The ground beneath their feet would be swept away.

Though he kept himself focused on his mission—his rise and his enemy’s downfall—was he truly able to keep this intruder out of his mind?

Maan didn’t like that she occupied his thoughts in any way. Why should he care that Mom, Dadima, and Dad were no longer repulsed by her presence? He refused to accept the strange calm his heart felt as he watched her ease into a bond with his family. No, his mind shouted. This girl is not good for my family. He wants to believe she was just a piece in his house, and he needs to ignore the noise.

Maan went inside his exclusive, grand, and wonderfully designed washroom. He looked around to not think of her but absorb what he had achieved after separating from her. Each spot of this house, even this intimate place, had colour, amenities, and architecture, and was designed for supreme luxury.

He stripped himself one by one, imagining he was offloading her thoughts from his head. Completely undressed, he stood in front of a beautifully engraved, huge mirror on the wall.

He looked at his beautifully sculpted body. Everything was so stunning and perfect, yet there was an ache within him. It was the ache for someone’s warmth, a warmth that his wonderfully chiselled, cold stone-like structure seemed to crave. This longing wasn’t for just anyone; it specifically ached for one person, the very one he liked to believe he had no connection with. Every inch of his skin and every part of his body yearned to feel her hands upon them.

Maan, following a well-practiced routine of the last three and a half years, took a deep breath and stepped into the jacuzzi, letting his body sink into the water. He allowed the warmth to wash over him, hoping it would drain away every lingering desire from his body and soul.

After an hour, he emerged—once again the mechanical, solid, practical, and composed version of himself. Someone untouched by emotion, someone nothing could move.

He had gained expertise in this over time, though it was getting a little harder now that she had stationed herself in his house. No matter how much he tried to avoid her, their paths were bound to cross. And this time, her completely submissive demeanour was playing dangerous games with his heart. So he needed to build even more endurance—so that the world would continue to see him as the same stone-hearted man he had been before she reappeared in his life.

He was still confused by his own heart. She had practically never been there for him—so how had he fallen for her so deeply, to the point that he had never been able to move on?

It was always he who had given, because he respected the institution of marriage. Everything had been according to her wishes. For the first four months of their marriage, she hadn’t even acknowledged his presence in the house. Later, when he began supporting her in public, she slowly started to feel impressed. And though he never openly accepted his feelings for her, her growing closeness had finally weakened his resolve, and he was ready to invest himself completely in the relationship.

But just when he began believing her claim that she loved him, she shattered his expectations without a second thought. She made his place in her life painfully clear. She broke his heart, crushed his hopes—and yet, he had never been able to get over her.

Why?

After leaving her, he had turned himself into a rock—unyielding and immovable. He became a mechanical man, letting only his mind govern his decisions. His heart was reserved solely for matters concerning his family. Yet deep down, he knew this was merely a façade he presented to the world. In his most private moments, he practiced endurance in silence. Not even his mother was allowed to know the truth of his condition.

**********
Another fortnight passed, and Geet was beginning to lose patience with the distance she had maintained. Maan continued to avoid acknowledging her presence, even though their paths crossed—at breakfast, lunch, dinner, or sometimes right outside their parents’ room when their timings clashed. He would look at her and then deliberately ignore her, immersing himself in matters that clearly mattered more to him.

And yet, she felt it strongly—she was not nothing to him, no matter how convincingly he pretended otherwise.

Geet knew she couldn’t wait any longer. She had to plunge into the matter, reach him, brace herself for any reaction, and give her best to win him over once again.

It was 5 am in the morning, and Maan had already been heavily engrossed in his workout in his exclusive gym, unaware of the fact that someone was leisurely enjoying the view.

He turned to place all the weights and equipment back in their places and found Geet standing there. A teasing smile adorned her face.

And before he could complete his shocked “You???”, she was right in front of him

“Hmm…” she hummed, placing her one hand on his sweaty chest and the other resting on his strong bicep. Maan closed his eyes, taking in the mixture of anger and sensation

“This is my extremely private zone. Nobody is allowed here.”

She pushed herself even closer to him, leisurely rubbing her hands on his front. She stated calmly, “But your extremely private wife is allowed.”

Maan held her arms and moved her body a distance between them. “Extremely primate wife? Have you lost it totally?”

Geet again came closer and circled her hands around his nape. She had some idea of how her closeness must be affecting him, because her own heart was beating fast. But, with Maan’s straight face, she has no idea the havoc that he was going through.

Angry with his own raging heart and her hanging on him, he got her hands off him, held her arm and pushed her against the wall, her hands on his grip, behind her back

“In my private zone? hmmm… You should not even be allowed in this house. Blackmailed my innocent family and forced your way in here.”

“I love this form of yours, – dominating! I am all ready to submit to your dominance.” She teased him.

“That is because I do not prefer you placing your hands anywhere on me.”

“Nice. I understood what your preferred position is,” she teased him further

“Do you have any shame?”

“No, I don’t. because none of us has moved on from that institution, and I don’t mind talking my heart to my legally wedded husband.”

Frustrated with her talks, which made no sense to him, he turned his face away, releasing her, his hands on his hips.

“If you are done with your nonsense, will you leave?” He said, not even giving her a look

Geet moved closer, again. Placing her palm again on his cheeks, softly turned him to look at her

“Maan, these were all fun to lighten your mood. I really do love you. I know I did mistake, a big mistake. I was not a good wife but I want to be. I promise I will be. You love me, I know that.”

“I don’t. I have nothing to do with you and feelings for you.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself—or on me. This distance from you is hurting me every moment,” she said softly, closing the space between them. Resting her head against his chest, she whispered, “I am dying to belong here.”

“Sorry,” he replied coldly. “There’s no space left.”

“I’ll make my own,” she said, looping her arms around his neck and rising on her tiptoes, her face inches from his. Their eyes locked. Her gaze drifted to his lips, and Maan noticed the faint tremble of her soft pink mouth.

Before he could stop himself, he pulled her close—one hand gripping her waist, the other holding her head firmly. His eyes burned red with anger as they bore into hers. Then, abruptly, he pushed her away.

Geet staggered but managed to steady herself.

“This isn’t you, Maan,” she said, shaken. “Don’t become someone you’re not just to push me away.”

“You know very little about me,” he snapped. “So don’t pretend otherwise. Leave now. I have work to do—responsibilities I can’t abandon the way you did, throwing your Dad and the company under the bus.”

He hadn’t forgiven her for stepping down, no matter how much he claimed she didn’t matter.

“Maan, I’m not running from my responsibilities,” she said firmly. “I’m still involved in the projects. I only gave up my position because, right now, my personal life needs priority.”

“What you choose to prioritize is none of my concern,” he replied without looking at her. “Understand this clearly—you mean nothing to me. If you believe otherwise, you’re only wasting your time. Don’t say later that I didn’t warn you.”

With that, he turned and walked away, cutting off any chance for further words.