APRICITY [Completed] - Chapter 2: Chapter 2

3 months later
She had no idea I bought this company. There's no other explanation as to why she would be standing before me for an interview with her eyes wide and lips ajar. She's gaping at me, and under any other circumstances, I'd say she almost looked cute.
She glances down at the file in her hand and then back at the door, clearly contemplating running away. I bought HEX SYSTEMS a few days ago. I buy falling tech companies, which I feel still have potential and merge them with SINGHANIA TECHNOLOGIES.
After buying a company, I spent at least the first three months there, hiring and removing staff as required. The fact alone that Surbhi managed to get through all the tests and interviews prior to me is appreciable.
The post is for my Personal Assistant. Three finalists had been shortlisted. I was supposed to interview all three to find which one suits me the most. That was when I had no idea my wife was one of the shortlisted candidates.
Yes, my wife. I did not sign the divorce papers. In the past three months, she has sent me numerous one-sided signed ones. They keep coming in my mail, reminding me of how I let her walk away from me that day. Reminding me of what I saw in her eyes.
I do not doubt that if I had so much so as opened my mouth, then she wouldn't have hesitated to land another blow, this time on my head.
No, the reason why I haven't sent the papers back is not because I'm in love with her or falling for her. It's because the itch to ruin the Khurana's still irks me. It devastates me that they have something to call a family while I don't.
They ruined my life. They took away my innocence when I was 8. I, too, had a normal family once. I had a mother who loved me and a father who loved her. After Mom was gone, Dad drowned himself in alcohol, effectively forgetting that he had a son too.
The only time he was reminded of my existence was when he needed a punching bag. Those nights still haunt me. He mostly stayed out all the time, but those rare moments when he came to our house were not family moments. They were my nightmares.
He would torture me in the worst ways possible. Sometimes, he would tie my hands to the bedpost and whip me with his belt. Other times, he would tie a belt around my neck and make me crawl bare knees on cemented floor until they were bloody.
He found satisfaction in locking me up in small spaces because he knew I was scared of them. Once, he locked me in the store at night. He usually released me by morning. That time, though, the morning came and went, but he didn't come. I uselessly cried and clawed at the door. The next night, the housekeeper found me unconscious.
Dad used to say that these are the things he wanted to do to the Khuranas' for stealing his wife from him. For stealing his happiness and his last piece of humanity from him.
But again, we don't always get what we want.
I was with him when the doctor told him that his liver was failing due to excessive drinking. I was with him when his lungs ceased to function due to reckless smoking.
I was also with him when he released his last breath. He did not regret his death. He died with a smile on his face and mom's photo in his hands.
That was the day I decided that I'd never fall in love. I was 15 then. I'm 25 now. I was miserable and helpless then. But not anymore. Slowly and steadily, over the years, I've raised my father's empire. I made a seat for myself at the top.
Not only that, I made sure to drill holes in KHURANA INTEL so they wouldn't have enough money to buy their way out of the wedding arrangement.
I had everything under control. I knew how much Anmol Khurana loved his granddaughter. The man who shot Mom. I was sure I would be able to break Surbhi to get back at him. What I did not count on was for the little girl in the yellow frock to grow a spine.
I have a scar from the time she hit me with the candle holder, and I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't somewhat impressed. But it also means that I can no longer kick her around. And if I can't do that, then she's as good as useless. Yet, she's the last piece of puzzle joining me to the Khurana's.
She has some medical evidence against me, not that the police will bother themselves. When a man gains money, he becomes powerful. But when he learns how to use it, he becomes lethal. Her 'evidence' won't harm me. Yet, I let her believe that we were playing by her rules.
"I can't believe I'm doing this," heaving a sigh, she takes a seat in front of me.
I can't believe it either. She must be in dire need of money if she's still here and hasn't run away with her tail between her legs.
"Fate has its own twisted ways," I state, prolonging this for her.
"Am I getting an outright no? If so, then tell me. Don't waste my time," she scowls.
The sternness in her voice catches me off guard. Now that I notice and really see her, I observe that she looks more fragile than I'd last seen her.
Yet, somehow, she looks a lot better.
Her eyes aren't red and swollen. Her lip isn't bleeding. And there aren't any burn marks on her skin. The bruises on her neck, jaw, and wrists are gone. She's also resting her back against the back of the chair. She couldn't ever do it at my house.
My jaw clenches. It's not like I don't know that punishing her for something her grandfather did is immoral. I do. I know better than anyone. My own father did the same to me.
Nevertheless, this is the only choice I have.
"Actually, Mrs. Singhania, you're hired," I drawl, deliberately using my last name to address her.
Her jaw locks, but she doesn't argue.
She needs this job, I realize with not much shock. She was careful not to make tracking herself easy for me. But I always knew that she hadn't gone back to her family. And now, she needs money to survive.
"Why - Why haven't you signed the papers yet?"
I don't grace her with an answer. I don't need to. She knows about my revenge plans very well.
"8:30 AM. I want a sandwich and coffee at my desk and 9. Remember, for every minute you come late, I'll make you work half an hour extra." I say, keeping in mind her tardy habits.
She was not late. Rather, she was 5 minutes early. She came wearing a blue shirt and a black skirt. The outfit suited her. Watching her stride past the glass wall of my office gave me a hard on, which was absurd, considering my hatred towards her.
At 9 AM sharp, a knock resounds on my door.
"May I come in, sir?" Her sweet voice drifted through the wooden door.
"Yes."
Surbhi comes in carrying a tray. The delicious aroma of the sandwich diffuses in the air, and my stomach grumbles. She sets the tray on my table.
"How much sugar in coffee, sir?" She knows I drink black coffee. She's messing with me, and I feel the urge to mess right back.
"How much do you take, Mrs. Singhania?" I ask, leaning back on the chair and crossing one leg over the other.
She frowns.
"I don't drink coffee. I like tea."
I bite my tongue. I was supposed to know this, considering she's my wife.
"Then bring me tea. Make it the way you like." I pause. Why did I say this? I don't even like tea. Surbhi also looks confused for a second, but then she nods and leaves.
As soon as she's gone, I unwrap the foil and take a bite of the sandwich. I am so hungry right now, and she'll have to start making two if this is how good she cooks.
She was not always good at cooking.
The thought pings at my subconsciousness. Back at my house, I forbade my chefs from cooking for her. She had to cook for herself, and since she had no idea how to, she burnt her hand a lot of times in the process.
Countless times, she ate half burnt meals while I enjoyed lavish food. And other times, she went to bed hungry.
I instantly lose my appetite, yet I force myself to finish the food. The tea that she brings for me is thankfully strong and more effective than coffee.