Fixation (Fatal Attraction #3)

Chapter 4

4

T here was something wrong with Armaan, Vedant was certain of it. Last morning, Tyrion had called his brothers through his cell phone. Vedant had spoken to them and they had been so excited to hear his voice. But Armaan hadn’t sounded himself; it seemed like he was unwell. However, both his brothers had assured him that all was well.

Still, he wasn’t convinced. The clear indication of something being off was that on the morning after Vedant’s attack, only Mihir had flown down from Dubai to check on him, and while then he hadn’t been conscious a whole lot, he did remember that Armaan was missing. And Armaan would never do that. He’d have moved heaven and earth to reach Vedant, and the fact that he hadn’t meant that something was wrong. Also, Tyrion had informed him that Mihir had immediately returned to Dubai after settling Vedant at home. Mihir returning mere hours after landing in London again indicated that something wasn’t right.

Worry settled in the pit of his stomach. He released a heavy breath. Probably it was nothing. He was probably over analysing the situation because he was unwell.

He looked out the large window of his room. It was early in the morning. After finishing his breakfast, he’d requested the intern, Stefan, to move his bed closer to the window so he could take in some fresh air and enjoy the fabulous view that his London home had. Stefan was very young, very eager to please, full of life, and very chatty. Through him, he had learned how his four-member medical care team took shifts to be with Vedant so that he was never alone. Mihir had brought an entire medical team here to keep him safe. His brother was, quite simply, unbelievable.

He inhaled and exhaled, breathing in the cool morning air. The view from this house always stirred him. While Vedant loved their Moscow home and their beach front Dubai house, this home was truly special. The vast forests, the rolling green meadows, the stunning blue lake—all of it was spectacular. He loved to walk these grounds and looked forward to doing that again, hopefully soon.

Right now, pumped with painkillers and antibiotics, he felt… Well, he was alright. But when their effect lessened, the pain was an absolute bitch to deal with. He was paying the price of his own stupidity, and it angered him so much.

Tyrion entered, greeting him warmly in Russian.

Vedant gave him a nod. “How’s everything?”

“All good, Sir,” Tyrion replied. “I just came to check on you.”

“I’m fine, well as fine as I can be,” Vedant replied. Something came to his mind. “Do you know where my ring is? Did Mihir give it to you?”

“No, but I’ll find out,” Tyrion said. “Also, Sir, a Ms. Svensson has been calling your phone regularly.”

Vedant frowned. Anita must be calling because of that oil deal they were working on together. “Please, can you get my phone? I must have hundreds of missed emails and messages. And my glasses as well. I need those too.”

If he wasn’t allowed to discuss work or anything related to his attack, at least he could use his phone to get back into the thick of things. And he needed his specs to read. His far vision was perfect, and hence, he’d gotten a progressive lens so he could see in the distance and read at the same time without the constant irritation of taking off and wearing his specs continuously.

With a quick nod, Tyrion left the room. Vedant refocused outside the window on the precious view. A view, at one time, he’d never even imagined he’d ever see. Memories raced through his mind—of years spent at the orphanage in Rishikesh, and of fighting to survive among the huge hoard of children. Life had been difficult. However, amidst all that violence, poverty, and chaos, Vedant had found a family—not related by blood, but connected by heart.

His only regret was all that had transpired with Karina. His chest hurt to even think of her. He and his brothers had all failed her. Thanks to their innocence and immaturity, they had lost her… their sister… Karina, the fourth one in their quartet. But a few months ago, they had found the man responsible for her disappearance—Dorab, their one-time orphanage mate.

Karina… He missed her so much. Fourteen years had passed. Fourteen long years, in which the brothers had thought that she had left them and run away to find happiness with Dorab. She’d even left them a vague letter, requesting them to never look for her and that she wasn’t returning. They had tried for weeks to locate her, but it had all been a futile exercise. In the end, it had also been the reason that the three of them had readily left India and moved to Russia. But now, they finally had some answers through that bastard Dorab. They’d managed to lure him to London and held him captive.

However, even under the threat of death, Dorab had only told them that Karina had run away from him. All those years back, the fucker had overheard their plans to move to Russia and enticed Karina to go to Delhi with him, where he’d tried to sell her to some local goon he’d started working for. Once she’d understood the situation, Karina had apparently injured the two of them with a knife and run away. Dorab refused to name that man, whom he still worked for. Thus, in order to find her, they had let him go, but they were discreetly keeping an eye on his movements, hoping that he would lead them to her.

At least they had hope now, and this hope meant everything. They would find her. Their circle would be complete again. He would ensure it. Starting today, he’d focus his energy on finding her, once he got his phone, that is.

Tyrion entered the room, handing him his glasses and the newspaper. Vedant placed them on his nose and began to read the paper. But a few minutes later, even that felt tiring. Dropping his glasses to the side, he shut his eyes.

When he opened them again, the clock on the wall showed that four hours had passed. Fuck. He was always sleeping. He hated feeling so helpless like this. He noticed that, once again, the bed was back in position in the centre of the room.

He looked to the side, and Dr. Singh was sitting in a chair reading a book. As if sensing he was awake, she looked at him and stood up. Immediately, the air around him tensed by a few degrees.

“How are you feeling?” She came closer to him and pressed the bell by his bedside.

He helped himself to some water. “Okay, I suppose.”

Which was true. He always woke up feeling fine, but about an hour later, he was tired again. And the pain was always lingering in the background. It sucked.

He looked around, suddenly remembering something. “Doctor, Tyrion’s forgotten to bring me my cell phone. Can you ask him to get it for me?”

Her eyes latched on him. “Unfortunately, I cannot do that.”

He frowned.

“I mean, it’s best for you to stay away from screens for now. You need to rest and sleep.”

“I need my phone. I have a business to run. I need to be connected to the world, da ?” he explained gently, hoping to win her to his side.

“The world can wait for you to heal, Mr. Oshnov,” she replied stiffly. “There is a TV here on the wall. You can watch a little if you wish, but my advice would be to even avoid that and sleep as much as you can.”

As usual, her tone bothered him no end.

“You don’t allow my team to discuss anything with me, you prohibit me from using my phone, and you decide how much TV I ought to watch. Are you a doctor or a fucking dictator?”

Her lips flattened. “I only want what’s best for you.”

“Then let me decide what’s best for me. Being in touch with my work and my team calms me. I need my phone and my laptop.”

“Unfortunately, I cannot authorise any of that.” She lifted her nose in the air. “I am responsible for you, and hence, this is how it’s going to be. Your brother agrees with me, so if you have a problem following my instructions, take it up with him.”

This doctor had somehow convinced Mihir to listen to everything she said, and hence, his team had been instructed to do the same. He needed to take this up with his brother soon.

He stared at her. Her dislike for him was obvious. It was evident in everything she did around him—the way her lips compressed, the way her brows creased, and the way her temper flared like she was one second away from stabbing him.

She was infuriating and maddening, and behaved so bloody supercilious all the time. He ought to let her be, but he just couldn’t seem to shut his mouth around her.

“Do you know how annoying and difficult you are?” he grumbled.

She sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Just stop,” he said.

She shrugged. “Stop what?”

“All this sighing and exhaling that you do when you’re near me. I’m not a fucking child.”

Her eyes narrowed on him. “Then don’t fucking act like one.” She shut her eyes for a brief second and then lifted her jaw. “Apologies. I shouldn’t have reacted like that. I don’t know what came over me.”

“You don’t sound apologetic in the least,” he scoffed.

She stared at him. “Mr. Oshnov, what is the problem here? You have been at odds with me since the moment you opened your eyes, when all I have done is help you.”

“Sure, and you’ve hated every minute of it.”

“To tell you the truth,” she began, “I am upset. I was brought here by force. I am living here under threat.”

“And aren’t you being paid a hell lot of money for it?” His voice was stiff as he spoke.

“Money? Is that all you think about?” Her mouth tightened. “Yes, you’re paying me a hell lot of money, but I value my freedom more. Besides, I’m here, aren’t I? And I am willing to help you. You’re angry all the time, and it makes me wonder if you’re only taking it out on me when the real problem is that you’re just angry with yourself.”

He clenched his teeth. “Stop talking.”

“No.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Let’s just get it all out in the open. I haven’t heard you misbehaving with anyone else from my team. So, the way I see it, you’re blaming yourself over your attack, and now you’re lashing out and making me the target. Why? Because I saved you? Did you want me to let you die?"

His jaw dropped. Her harsh words struck a nerve. But seeing her chest heaving angrily and those annoying sighs rolling off her lips was ticking him off even more.

“Stop psychoanalysing me, and be nice for a change,” he said.

“Can’t you be nice?” she shot back.

“Why are you so difficult all the time?” he said. “If this is your natural setting, then I pity the man who wants to be with you.”

Shit. What was wrong with him? Why was he reacting like this to her?

Her eyes turned to sharp slits. “And I feel very happy for the many women who may have dumped you for a far more reasonable man.”

“For your information, there have been none who dumped me. It’s always the other way round.”

She clucked her tongue. “You’re so full of yourself.”

“Like recognises like,” he shot back.

“Aargh!” She threw her hands up in the air. “What have I ever done to deserve this? You’re like a patient sent from the pits of hell only to torment me.”

“And you’re like a doctor who needs a disgusting disease named after them.”

Her lips twitched at that inane remark. Fuck. What was he thinking?

A doctor who needs a disgusting disease named after them.

Who the hell spoke like that? His own lips curved, and then she was laughing and so was he. All the tension between them dissolved. God, it felt so good to simply let go like that. For the first time in days, he felt the pressure that had constantly been on his chest ease a little.

A moment later, she smiled and shook her head. She captured his wrist in her hand. A jolt of something went through him, something familiar. Fuck. Why did this happen every single time her skin touched his? She focused on his pulse, while he took his time studying her.

With her expression soft and at ease, and her skin glowing, she looked pretty, despite the monstrous glasses. The urge to pluck the glasses off her face and to see her features fully, slammed into him. The sound of a knock pulled him out of doing something absolutely illogical.

Stefan entered the room and smiled at them.

Vedant addressed him. “How come you’re still here? Isn’t your shift done?”

“It is, but Dr. Singh needs my help.”

“I need to check your dressings,” she told him, sounding calm. “If that’s okay with you.”

Her voice—sometimes, when she spoke, he felt like he’d heard her voice before… prior to even meeting her.

She spoke a few words to Stefan while donning a pair of rubber gloves.

Stefan helped him out of his shirt and began to unwrap the gauze around his chest. When he was done, Dr. Singh came forward. Once again, her strong scent punched him in the gut. Why did her scent affect him so? She moved to touch his chest, and he caught her wrist.

Her eyes widened, and a gasp escaped her mouth as something fizzed between them. He ignored it.

“Will it hurt?” he asked, afraid to learn the answer to that. He was already incapacitated and in pain. More pain only meant his recovery would be slower.

He lowered his hand and looked away, mortified for being weak. She tilted her head to the side. “It won’t hurt. I promise.”

He gave her a watery smile. Her lips curved, and then her gaze lowered to his mouth, to his jaw and further down his body, settling on his abs. Confused, he looked down at his body, at his abs, and realisation dawned. He was shirtless, his abs and Adonis Vee on display for her. And his usually rigid doctor was staring at his lower body.

Her eyes rushed back to his face. He blinked. Was he imagining it, or was there now a tinge of pink on her cheeks? And if it seriously was, then what the fuck? And why was he suddenly feeling too damn hot?

Equal parts of curiosity and amusement sped through him. And from the way she refused to look him in the eye, he was convinced that she had definitely been checking him out. How interesting.

She went back to work on his chest. He looked down his left pec. An angry red scar ran across his upper chest to his shoulder. He watched as she deftly cleaned and disinfected the wound. Beneath that scar was a long purplish bruise, signifying his broken rib.

“The wound is looking better,” she said aloud, still not looking at his face. “If it continues this way, then we can get rid of the bandages within a week, provided you don’t put pressure on it. Even the bruise around your rib is subsiding. Does it pain when you breathe?”

He inhaled and exhaled. “There is discomfort. But I can mostly manage through it.”

“Good.”

She stepped back, removing the gloves, while Stefan rewrapped the bandage and helped him wear his shirt again. Even that much movement tired him out and made his arm hurt. He gritted his teeth.

“Mr. Oshnov?—”

“—call me Vedant.”

“Mr. Oshnov,” she repeated defiantly, “You need to let me know whenever you are in pain, especially when it’s unbearable.”

“Why? I’m already sleeping so much,” he groused. “You’ll just give me more painkillers, and then I won’t even wake up as much as I am right now.”

She gave some instructions to Stefan, who handed her two syringes. She quickly went to work doing exactly what he had said.

Vedant yawned and pointed at his leg. “When will this cast come off?”

“I need your leg to be immobilised for at least a week more. You were lucky that no bone was broken there, but the injury was severe, and the surgery to correct it, very delicate. If all goes well, we can remove it in a week.”

The door opened and the other two ladies on his medical care team hurried inside. They looked from her to the trolley filled with gauze and cotton pads and glared at her.

“Hey, not fair,” the nurse whispered, but he could hear her clearly. “You should have waited for us, Reina.”

Reina? So Dr. Singh’s name was Reina. Nice. He liked it.

“Stefan,” Dr. Singh, Reina, looked to the side, “Please wait here, while I have a word with these two ladies.”

She linked a hand in each of their arms and dragged them out. While he couldn’t hear Reina’s voice, he could hear the other two clearly.

“You were to wait for us to change his dressing,” Su Min, the nurse, complained.

“I want to see his…” Dr. Jones said.

Their voices were silenced as Reina shut the door behind her. He looked at Stefan, who pretended he hadn’t heard any of that, as he diligently looked into the clipboard.

The women in his medical team had been talking about him, clearly. No wonder Reina had been staring at his abs. He chuckled, but even that changed into a yawn. He grimaced. He was so weak these days.

Before his attack, he was heavily into his workouts and fight training. And he’d been with enough women to know that every single one of them appreciated his body. But so far, none of their opinions had mattered. Being with them had simply been a means to have a good time. But for some peculiar reason, he found himself wondering what Reina had been thinking when she’d been ogling his abs.

He smiled. He felt so many mixed emotions around his doctor, ranging from anger to irritation to annoyance. And now, suddenly, intrigue was added to the mix. He was intrigued to know what she thought of him. But why did he care about her opinion? Before he could figure out the answer to that, his eyes shut, and he drifted off to sleep.