Checkmate

Chapter 7

Amber

I stare at him as he walks to his car, still clutching onto his coat. It smells like him.

Why did I let him kiss me?

Why did I kiss him back?

My legs betray me, wobbling beneath me as I stumble back. The world tilts, and for a moment, I think I might fall. My hand flies out to steady myself, and that's when it brushes against something cold. My heart skips a beat, and my gaze snaps down to the gift he left behind.

With trembling fingers, I hurriedly rip through the wrapping, desperate to escape the chaos inside my head.

A cage.

A golden cage.

Inside, a fragile little bird, its wings suspended in a forever stillness. A tiny lock rests at the front.

He's telling me he's got me caged.

I'm trapped.

Anger surges through me, burning away the confusion. I don't think. I don't care. The cage flies from my hands, crashing into the mirror, shattering the silence.

Glass falls, glinting like jagged stars, but all I hear is the soft, haunting melody that begins to play from the broken cage.

"Tumko paa hi liya... paa hi liya maine yun..."

The song fills the room, wrapping around me, suffocating me. The voices are too much. His touch is still there, lingering on my skin, his scent still clinging to the air.

I can't breathe.

I can't think.

I press both my hands against my ears, but it's useless. The sound, the memories-his kiss-still drown me.

Her first kiss.

Ironic.

Her worst enemy stole her first kiss.

And she kissed him back.

A wave of self-hate crashes over her, fierce and unforgiving. She hates him for it. She hates herself for it. But deep down, a part of her resents the fact that, for a brief, heart-stopping moment, she didn't want him to stop.

I feel my head swim as I try to push back the storm in my chest. Then, I hear it. The soft patter of footsteps running towards me. The door bangs against the wall as it opens.

"Amber!" Ishika's voice is frantic. "Are you okay?"

I take a deep breath and wipe the angry tears from my eyes. The mix of rage and hurt threatens to spill over again, but I force myself to calm. I smooth out my lipstick with shaky hands, trying to steady myself.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I mutter, my voice hoarse.

Her eyes dart over to the shattered pieces of the mirror. "What happened?"

"Nothing," I lie, shaking my head. "I fell. Something hit the mirror from my hand."

She doesn't press further. Instead, she steps closer, her hands gently undoing my hair. I want to scream, to cry, but I know better than to let it all out right now.

"Amber," she speaks softly. "You can tell me how you feel. Sometimes it's okay to not be on your own."

Her words cut through the fog of my emotions, and I blink rapidly to keep the tears at bay.

"I know you're strong, stronger than Alekha and me. But sometimes, we drain emotionally... and you should talk."

I turn to her, my arms wrapping around her as I hug her tightly. For the first time in what feels like forever, I let myself lean on someone else.

"I'm here," she whispers, holding me.

I get into bed, and Ishika stays by my side. The warmth of her presence offers me a small sliver of comfort, but sleep soon overtakes me.

Morning comes crashing in, loud and relentless.

"Amber, you bitch, come downstairs now!"

I groggily lift my head at the familiar voice. Inaya.

I rush down the stairs, barely able to wipe away the sleep from my eyes. Before I can say anything, she pulls me into a hug, ignoring my attempts to push her away.

"Don't you try giving me that 'you missed me' look." She shoves a newspaper in my hand, the front page glaring back at me. The picture of Sairaj and I in an intimate engagement photo, the moment when he pulled me closer during the announcement.

I freeze. The image stares back at me, mocking everything that's been happening between us.

"It's a long story," I murmur, my voice cracking slightly.

"I'll start with a cup of coffee," Inaya says as she hugs my mom. The affection she shares with my mother is something I don't even know how to envy. It's easy, pure. Something I wish I could feel all the time.

She greets Neeti bhabhi next, then gives Reyansh a playful kiss on the cheek. "Hey champ, missed me?" she teases, making Reyansh blush and hide behind Neeti.

I half-smile, but my mind is far away, focused on the picture.

Inaya nods towards Alekha, who is in the kitchen, then something shifts in her gaze. Her eyes move to my cousin, Rajveer Singh Rathore, and something in the air changes. It's subtle, but it's there.

He doesn't acknowledge her. Instead, she walks past him like he doesn't exist, her attention on something else entirely.

Confusion fills me as I watch them. What am I missing here?

Inaya heads to my room, expecting me to follow her, and only then do I see Rajveer's eyes lock onto her retreating figure. He's watching her, his gaze cold and calculating.

Something is wrong. Very wrong.

I follow Inaya upstairs, where she flops onto my bed.

"How could you not tell me?" she asks, her voice quiet but pointed.

I sit beside her, feeling a strange weight in the pit of my stomach.

"I didn't know until the day before yesterday."

"What?" she exclaims, her eyebrows shooting up.

"Sairaj Suryavanshi is a family rival."

And you're marrying him? She stares at me, her mouth hanging open in shock. I nod slowly.

I smile, but it's not the smile of someone who is okay. "It's a trust stamp for truce," I explain, my voice steady now as I tell her everything.

She listens intently, her face serious.

"What about Karan?"

"I'm gonna end things with him."

"Well, he didn't deserve you anyway," she replies bluntly, and I glare at her.

"What?" she presses, her expression daring me to challenge her. "He might as well be cheating on you, Amber. You've been suspecting that for months now. Nobody believes in that 'no touching until marriage' crap."

I roll my eyes. "Well, yeah, whatever."

Inaya chuckles. "So, you're getting married to a hot guy. At least that's something positive."

I wince. "I hate him."

Inaya squints her eyes at me. "You're almost blushing."

"I'm not," I insist, though a part of me wonders if it's true.

"What did you two do?"

I hesitate, then admit, "He kissed me. Forcefully."

"What?" Inaya looks genuinely surprised.

"But I kissed him back," I say quietly.

Inaya's mouth opens, but then she shrugs. "Well, then that's with consent, babe."

"Shut up, Inaya," I snap, but she's already taking the coffee from Riva, our house help. I smile faintly at her before turning back to Inaya.

"So, what's with you and Rajveer?" I ask, an almost dangerous curiosity seeping into my voice.

Inaya freezes, her face going pale for a second before she quickly masks it with indifference.

"What are you hiding, Inaya Tanwar?" I press.

She raises her hands in surrender. "I had a crush on him."

I scoot closer to her. "And?"

She hesitates before she answers. "He told me this world ain't for me."

I blink.

"Stop staring at me," she says, but I can't help it.

"Story time over," she mutters, rolling over onto my bed and pulling the blanket up around her shoulders.

And for the first time today, I let myself believe that things might, just might, be okay.

Inaya slowly removes the blanket from her face, her expression a mix of frustration and confusion, her black locks splayed across the pillow like spilled ink. Her cheeks are flushed, eyes avoiding mine as she settles into the bed.

"You won't talk about your cousin to me, okay?" she says, her voice quieter now, but still laced with an undeniable edge.

I nod, my gaze softening as I look at her. Despite her attitude, there's a vulnerability in her I can't ignore. Inaya's heart had been broken, and it stings to see her in this way. She's such a beautiful soul, and it hurts that someone like Rajveer would put her in a position where she was forced to shut down her feelings.

But deep down, I know Rajveer's words to her weren't entirely wrong. She's too innocent, too pure to be involved in the chaotic web of lies and mafia games that have entangled my life. She deserves better, even if that means staying away from Rajveer. From the shadows he's cast over her.

I exhale sharply, pulling myself out of the haze of thought. "I'm gonna call Karan," I say, looking away to avoid her gaze.

Inaya doesn't say anything at first, just watching me, her eyes reflecting a mixture of concern and something more-maybe relief? Or perhaps the unspoken understanding that I've reached my breaking point. But I don't need anyone to tell me what I already know. The truth is, there's nothing left in this relationship with Karan.

It wasn't because that devil-Sairaj-told me to do it. It was because I realized I had nothing more to hold onto. My heart wasn't in it anymore, and it was time to sever the ties before they twisted me into something I wasn't.

Inaya gives me a small nod, her hand brushing over mine in a comforting gesture. It's funny how sometimes just the smallest touch can ground you when you're spiraling.

I take a deep breath and hit the dial button on my phone. It rings five times before Karan picks up, his voice all smooth indifference.

"Hey, babe," he says. I hate that word. Babe... it sounds so hollow now.

"Hi," I reply, my voice flat, steady. "What's up?"

"Supp? I'm out. Talk later?" he asks, as though he's already got somewhere better to be.

"No. We need to talk now," I say, cutting through his casual tone.

"Uhhh... okay, what's up?" he responds, a little slower this time, but still so nonchalant.

"I don't wanna do this anymore," I say, the words escaping me like a weight I didn't even know I was carrying. It feels so final.

A pause. His silence stretches on for too long. Then, as if I've just mentioned a minor inconvenience, he says, "Okay."

It's like it doesn't even matter to him. No begging, no pleading. Just okay.

"Okay, bye," I say before hanging up, the coldness of the action making my chest tighten.

Inaya doesn't speak for a long while. She simply pulls me into a hug, her arms wrapping around me as though she's trying to hold all the pieces of me together, even though she knows I'm falling apart at the seams.

"You're gonna be alright," she murmurs against my hair, her voice warm but somehow knowing.

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to hold it all in. "I will be," I say, my voice trembling with the weight of what I'm facing.

Inaya pulls away slightly, tilting her head with a raised brow. "So, you really gonna marry this Sairaj?" Her words are light, teasing, but I can see the worry in her eyes.

"Over my dead body," I say, a quiet fire igniting within me.

Inaya watches me closely, then nods, though there's a look of disbelief still dancing in her eyes. She knows I'm not backing down. "Well, that's something, I guess."

"I'll find a way," I say, more to myself than to her. "I won't give in. Marrying him would be like signing up to play a never-ending chess game with no clear winner. Just pieces moving around, always in the game, but never truly free."

The thought weighs heavily on me, suffocating me. Sairaj's world is a maze of power, manipulation, and cold intentions. And the last thing I want is to be part of that. The cage he's trying to trap me in? I won't fall for it. I can't.

"I'll find a way," I whisper again, this time with more conviction. The chessboard, the pieces, the game-it's all in my hands. But I'm not sure how to play this game yet.

And that thought haunts me.

--

The afternoon is peaceful as I sit in the garden with Inaya and Alekha, sipping on iced tea and enjoying the rare moment of calm. The air is filled with the scent of fresh flowers, a stark contrast to the storm constantly brewing inside me.

Then, the rumble of a truck cuts through the quiet.

We all look up as a massive, gift-wrapped box is carefully unloaded from the back. It's ridiculously extravagant, tied with an oversized ribbon, as if someone expects a grand reveal. Something on wheels glints beneath it.

Viraj steps forward, taking a set of keys from the delivery driver, his expression unreadable. The driver hands him a small envelope before giving me a wary glance and quickly leaving-as if he knows something I don't.

"What is it, bhai?" I ask, already dreading the answer.

Viraj doesn't respond, just passes me the envelope. "For you." His voice is clipped, frustration evident as he stalks back into the house.

My fingers tighten around the note as Inaya and Alekha lean in, curious. I rip it open and read the words scrawled inside:

"For you, biwi. Burn this one too if you want."

Checkmate written in bold letters in his own handwriting, the black king's sketch beside it.

The blood in my veins turns molten.

I rip the ribbon off, the flaps falling open to reveal a sleek black Bentley sitting inside. The same model. The same number plate. A perfect replacement for the one I burned to the ground.

I hear Inaya suck in a breath beside me. "You burnt his car." Her voice is laced with disbelief.

I don't respond. My grip on the note tightens as I stare at the car, anger boiling over.

I turn to the driver standing by the car door. "Take it back."

He shakes his head so fast it almost looks comical. "Sorry, ma'am. I'd like to stay alive." Then, before I can argue, he bolts.

"Son of a..." I mutter under my breath, shoving the note into my pocket.

I take out my phone, unlocking it with practiced ease. My fingers hover over my messages before I type out a simple reply.

"I don't need any gifts from you."

Seconds later, my screen lights up with an incoming text from an unknown number.

"I would say not returning favors is bad manners, jaaneman."

I exhale sharply, my grip tightening on my phone.

Inaya scoffs beside me, heading to the table with Alekha, both of them shaking their heads at my response. I can feel the weight of the situation pushing down on me. I don't want this game. I didn't ask for it. But Sairaj's presence in my life is like a storm, impossible to ignore.

I turn back to the Bentley, my gaze hardening. I'm done with this. He's not going to get away with this. Not this time.

I don't reply. My fingers hover over the screen for a moment before I lock my phone, shoving it into my pocket.

Another message comes in almost instantly.

"I did return the favor of your slap with a kiss."

My breath catches.

My mind flashes back to that moment-his grip, the heat of his mouth, the way my body betrayed me. I clench my jaw, anger surging through me like wildfire.

I slam my phone onto the garden table, ignoring the way my pulse races. Inaya raises a brow but doesn't comment, instead sipping her iced tea with an amused smirk.

Alekha, on the other hand, frowns. "Amber... what exactly is going on between you two?"

"Nothing," I say too quickly, my voice sharper than I intend.

Inaya snorts. "Yeah, because nothing tastes like guilt and looks like blushing."

I glare at her. "I'm not blushing."

She leans forward, eyes glinting with mischief.

"Amber, be honest. Was it a bad kiss?"

Alekha elbows her. "Inaya!"

"What? I'm just trying to understand how much she hated it." Inaya smirks, tilting her head. "Because she looks like she hated it a little too much."

I push back my chair abruptly, standing. "I don't want to talk about this."

Inaya leans back, satisfied. Alekha sighs, shaking her head. "Just don't let him get under your skin."

Too late.

I storm inside, up the stairs to my room, slamming the door behind me. My reflection stares back from the mirror, my lips still slightly swollen, a reminder of his touch.

That asshole thinks, he can get away with anything.

I smirk as I type out the message, my fingers flying over the screen.

"Well, you're a bad kisser."

A lie. A blatant, shameless lie.

I hit send before I can second-guess myself, tossing my phone onto the bed.

A beat passes.

Then another.

My phone vibrates.

"Liar."

My pulse jumps. I refuse to pick up the phone, but my eyes betray me, flickering toward the screen.

Another message follows.

"Your lips disagreed, baby."

The word does something to me, something I would like to cage in a bottle and throw away. Heat crawls up my neck. My fingers tighten into fists.

The audacity.

I type back. "Must've been pity. Don't get used to it."

His reply comes almost immediately.

"I don't believe in pity. But I do believe in repetition. Maybe I should refresh your memory."

I grip my phone so tight my knuckles turn white.

"Try it, and I'll make sure you regret it." I fire back.

There's a long pause this time. Almost too long.

Then, finally-

"I already regret not making it last longer."

I slam my phone down, my heart a wild drum in my chest.

I hate him.

I hate him so much.

And yet, my fingers still tingle where they had clutched his coat last night. My lips still burn from his touch.

I hate him.

I hate myself more.

His reply comes almost instantly.

"I will make sure my knife twists inside your gut next time" I text back, fuming.

"Mmm, feisty. I like it. Maybe I should test my luck."

I exhale sharply, my grip on the phone tightening.

"Try it, and you'll bleed, Sairaj."

A pause. Then-

"Bleeding for you doesn't sound so bad, biwi."

I clench my jaw. "Stop calling me that."

Another pause. I see the typing bubbles flicker, disappear, and then return.

"I will. The day you stop being mine, which by the way would never come."

I let out a humorless laugh, throwing my phone on the bed.

I'm done.

Done playing this game.

Done letting him get under my skin.

Or at least, that's what I tell myself.

But as I storm out of my room, my heart betrays me-beating far too fast, far too loud, as if it knows the truth I refuse to admit.

Never yours.

I type the words, my fingers trembling slightly, and hit send.

"NEVER YOURS."

The text sits on seen for days. No response. No reaction. Just silence.

Inaya and I drink through the night, drowning in our failed expectations of love-or ever wanting love.

"To heartbreak and bad decisions," Inaya toasts, raising her glass.

I clink mine against hers. "To never needing a man."

But as the burn of alcohol settles in my throat, my phone vibrates against the table.

"Isn't that your husband?" Inaya smirks, shoving her phone in my face.

I glare at her. "I'm not married, Inaya."

She smirks, unfazed. "Potato, potaato. Same thing."

I grab her phone, my eyes narrowing at the screen. A blonde woman with piercing blue eyes and a killer figure is clinging onto Sairaj's arm, her fingers laced over his sleeve like she owns him. A sharp pang of something-something I refuse to name-twists in my stomach.



No. I don't care. I can't care.

But then I read the headline.

"Is Amber Agnihotri Out of the Picture?"

My vision blurs.

The alcohol makes the decision for me-I grab my phone and type before logic can intervene.

"You bastard. You're out parading with your hoes while telling me to end things?"

I attach the tabloid photo and press send.

"Amber, stop!" Inaya tries to snatch the phone, but it's too late. I've already invited the storm.

A call.

I fumble with my phone as his name flashes on the screen. My hands are unsteady, and when I pick up, his voice slides through the speaker like liquid fire.

"Tsk tsk, language, biwi."

His amusement only fuels my rage.

"Asshole. I'm not your biwi."

"Jealous?" he taunts.

I scoff, jealous my ass.I grip the phone so tightly my knuckles ache. "I'm not jealous. I won't be disrespected, Sairaj. I don't care who you sleep with, but I won't take disrespect in public."

A dark chuckle echoes through the line.

I grit my teeth. "Tell me if I'm out of the picture, Sairaj. I'd happily take the ring off."

Silence.

Then, smoothly, "Then take it off."

I freeze. The ring a burning reminder.

Sairaj hums, as if he already knows the answer. "You won't. Because no matter how much you fight this, you know you're mine."

Anger coils in my stomach. "You're delusional."

"Maybe." A pause. "Or maybe I just know you better than you know yourself."

My pulse thrums dangerously. "You can keep playing your mind games, but I will find a way out of this engagement, Sairaj. Over my dead body will I marry you."

His laughter is low and dark. "Careful, biwi. Don't make promises you can't keep."

The line goes dead before I can respond.

I stare at my phone, my heart pounding, my fingers curling into a fist.
Inaya watches me from across the room, raising a brow. "So... how did that go?"

I throw my phone onto the bed, exhaling sharply. "He's impossible."

She smirks, sipping her drink. "And yet, here you are, arguing with him like a wife already."

I glare at her. "Shut up, Inaya."

She just laughs. "Oh, babe. You're so screwed."

Author's note:

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