The Blazing Heiress

44|| Diamond-Digging Husband

The chapter is unedited. You are going to encounter some typos and errors. Also, thanks for waiting for me. Here's the longest chapter of the book. Worth the twice update to make up for my absence!

"There's nothing tragic about grasping what you want...even if it's only for a moment."

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Viransh did not sleep for the past few nights.

To his dismay, the remainder of this abrupt disruption in his conventional life came in the form of poundings against his head, as if a jackhammer smashed open his skull and burrowed itself there, striking harder, stronger with each pound.

No dose of caffeine fixed the blinding headache. If anything, they mercilessly snatched away the remnants of sleep that tugged at his under-eye, dragging down his heavy eyelids like weighted curtains, promising him a realm of sweet dreams.

Adjusting the reading glasses perched on the bridge of his aristocratic nose, he glanced at the latest statistics on the screen, the words and the narrow lines swaying, flying, pirouetting and performing whatnot dance against his blurry vision. A soft sigh parted his lips, the whiff of his hot breath fogging up the screen of his sleek laptop in the nippy temperature of the room. He slammed shut the laptop, dexterous fingers turned off the giant monitor reclined on the wooden table. Hauling himself into a standing position, he allowed the chair to collide with the table, the loud thud barely registering in his brain where the cacophony of eerie voices tolled boisterously.

He hated these days. The days when things spiralled out of his control. The days when his pretty schedule crashed.

Viransh's life ran on a fixed schedule—wake up at the break of dawn, meditate, exercise, ready himself for the office, attend meetings scheduled weeks prior, plan, draft, and execute and then spend some hours with his family.

The first time, he felt his routine crack in the many years was the day when Avni ambled into his life with her heels as high as her confidence as though she owned every bit of land her feet lay upon. Her steps crackled like firecrackers destined to ignite an explosion in the life of anyone who deserved it.

Her thoughts became his pretty distraction.

With time, she had woven herself into every fabric of his life, shifting, stirring and altering his schedule, creating a large chunk of space for herself.

He liked it—the new change, the new addition to his life.

After they started dating, they had fallen into a pretty good routine. It wasn't a seismic change. It did not begin with morning texts and late-night calls, rather the changes were seamless. Everything changed in between their pretty busy lives. It was stealing, snatching a few minutes from their breaks to text, tease, taunt, flirt and share something good. A kiss(more of a survival need than a carnal want) shared here and there when they met during lunch break.

A new alteration occurred in their routine a few days ago when she proposed marriage. Their exchanges dwindled, she made an effort, but he failed to respond. The fault was his, but he didn't know how to restore equilibrium.

If it wasn't for the mental and emotional turmoil, it was the uncanny flashback of Roka's evening that repetitively crawled into his mind, like a malefic serpent coiled around his conscience, feeding him the glimpse of the haunting eyes that glanced back at him through the rear of the cracked window of the mansion. They robbed his sleep. Infused chilling questions into his mind where answers held no space of their own, for they seemed to be shrouded in mystery and anonymity.