Chapter 13: The Other Woman

Chapter 13: The Other Woman

The air in the safehouse had shifted.

There was no explosion, no screaming match. Just a slow tightening — like something waiting to snap.

Matteo was colder these days. Not cruel. Just… closed. He still touched her like she was precious, still kissed her like a man starved. But something sat in his eyes, shadowed and untouchable.

Aaravi noticed it most when he came back late at night. She’d be waiting, wearing his shirt, pretending to sketch while her heart clenched with questions.

But she didn’t ask.

Until the call came.

It was Nico’s voice on the line.

“Don’t panic,” he said, which instantly made her panic. “But Helena’s in Mumbai.”

Aaravi went still. “…Why would I panic?”

Nico sighed. “Because Helena Cross doesn’t make unannounced visits unless she smells war.”

Aaravi hung up and sat perfectly still.

Helena.

That name had appeared only in fragments so far. Matteo never spoke it directly, but it lingered. Nico had mentioned her once, casually, like someone from a previous life. Former intelligence, current ghost. Beautiful. Deadly. And once, undeniably, his.

The woman Matteo had let close. Before her.

And now, she was here.

---

Matteo returned that evening as if nothing was wrong. His jaw was tight, his shirt undone at the collar, and his expression unreadable.

Aaravi watched him from across the room.

“How was the meeting?” she asked carefully.

He glanced at her. “Standard. We're closing in.”

“You saw her, didn’t you?”

Silence.

“Helena.”

He froze. The shift was subtle, but she felt it like a thunderclap. He turned slowly.

“Yes,” he said. “She flew in this morning.”

“And?”

“And it was business.”

Aaravi stood, crossing her arms over her chest. “Is it ever just business with someone you used to sleep with?”

Matteo’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t do this.”

“Do what? Ask why the woman you used to love — who could gut a man with a pencil — is suddenly back in our lives?”

He walked toward her, slowly, voice low. “You don’t get to accuse me of betrayal when I’ve bled for you.”

“I’m not accusing you. I’m asking where I stand.”

Matteo stopped a breath away. “You stand here. With me. In this moment. She means nothing.”

“But she meant something,” Aaravi whispered, softer now. “And I need to know what part of your heart she still holds.”

He cupped her cheek, his hand warm and steady. “She held the man I used to be. The one who felt nothing. You hold the man who finally feels everything.”

Aaravi’s throat tightened. “Then don’t keep her near us.”

“I need her for this mission. She’s the only one who knows how Ravan operates.”

Aaravi’s face twisted. “So I’m just supposed to sleep beside you while your beautiful assassin ex plans our salvation?”

His grip on her tightened. “You’re not just anything. You’re the only thing.”

But it still didn’t erase the sharp, unfamiliar ache blooming in her chest.

---

Two nights later, Aaravi met Helena.

She walked into the safehouse unannounced, as usual. Black boots, dark jeans, red lips — like a storm bottled in skin. She had eyes like blades and a smirk that sliced.

“You must be the girl,” she said, looking Aaravi up and down.

“And you must be the shadow,” Aaravi replied coolly.

Helena tilted her head. “He’s softer now. I see why.”

“Careful,” Aaravi said with a sweet smile. “Soft doesn’t mean weak.”

Helena laughed, sharp and genuine. “I like you.”

Aaravi didn’t smile. “But I don’t trust you.”

“Smart girl,” Helena said, turning on her heel.

Matteo arrived just as Helena vanished into the briefing room.

“You could’ve warned me,” Aaravi muttered.

He looked her over, reading the storm in her eyes. “Did she touch you?”

“No.”

“Then you’re still mine.”

His voice was final. Brutal. Possessive. It should have terrified her.

It made her burn.

Later, in their room, she shoved him back against the wall, kissing him hard. Their bodies collided in a frenzy of hunger and hurt. She yanked at his belt, and he growled her name like a prayer and a warning.

He didn’t ask this time.

He took her — rough and raw, against the wall, their breaths loud in the silence. She scratched down his back. He thrust harder. Deeper. Like he needed to erase every shadow Helena ever cast.

And when he came inside her, trembling, forehead pressed to hers, he whispered, “Only you.”

And for now, she believed it.

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