"You could've just asked me about it," she muttered, not liking the fact that he had gone behind her back to find out a truth she had wanted to keep hidden.
"I had a feeling you didn't want anyone to know and I was right, wasn't I?" he said. "You knew who I was but you didn't say anything to me either."
He frowned at her but it was not a reproving one. It was a concerned frown. "She told me that you left abruptly before they moved back in the mansion because you didn't want to impose on them anymore. But Jasmine, they let you stay with them for so long; you owe them a visit at the very least." He put up his hands. "I mean, it's up to you. But my sister hasn't forgotten you and she has no idea where you are. She does not know who Crystal Reynolds is. Zoya isn't active on any social media accounts and neither is she a book nerd."
Jasmine smiled wryly. "Zoy never liked reading," she murmured. "And she never seemed interested in social media either." Then she sighed. "How is she?"
"Zoya is...Zoya. Like a ball of energy. She's getting married next month."
Jasmine let out a gasp. "You mean, she isn't married yet? I thought she and Riz could not wait."
Armaan shook his head. "She's not marrying Rizwaan. Abbu wouldn't accept him as a son-in-law. It's some other guy. He's an engineer."
"Oh my God. But they really loved each other. Is she okay?"
He shrugged and smiled enigmatically. "She will be. Don't worry, I have plans for her."
"You're not going to help her elope, are you?"
His mouth twitched and his eyes sparkled with excitement. "A never before seen spectacle at the Qureshi residence. Ammi's going to be so pissed and Abbu might want to kill me but I'm their soft spot. I'll get away with it."
Jasmine could not believe the nerve of him. It would be a scandalous thing to do. She supposed Armaan really was spoiled by his family if he thought they would let him get away with something so serious.
Armaan chuckled. "Hamza will definitely kill me though. He's more protective of Zoya than my father."
Jasmine forced herself to smile. She also forced herself not to ask him directly about Hamza. She could not even think his name without trembling with suppressed emotion so she tried a different tactic.
"Um...so, they're all living at the mansion now? Your family must be so happy to be reunited once more."
He scoffed. "Oh, yeah. Some of us are. I was thrilled actually even though it didn't affect me much cuz I don't live there but...my brother still hates me," he shared, scratching his chin and the action reminded her so much of Hamza that she clenched her fists and swallowed.
"I'm sure he doesn't hate you."
"Oh, trust me, Jasmine, he does. Every time I'm there, he looks at me as if he's hoping I might spontaneously combust from his fiery vision." Armaan stood up suddenly. "Hell, it's not my fault I'm the son of the British lady," he said carelessly and walked to the door. He looked at her over his shoulder. "Let's go. I really want you to try those oysters. The library isn't going anywhere."
She shook her head to decline. "I'm okay here." She needed to be alone with her thoughts right now.
"Jasmine?"
She closed her eyes. There was that tone again. If she refused to accompany him now, he might pull the childish, 'I'll tell Alex that you know' card again. Suddenly, she did not care. She wanted Alex to get the message once and for all. Anything to avoid a man like Armaan getting the upper hand in her life. She was not going to make the same mistake twice.
Jasmine stood up slowly, replaced the book and decided to play a little game. She turned and bestowed a charming smile on him. "I'm curious about the theme for the master suite. Aren't you going to show it to me first?"
The question hung heavily in the silence.
Armaan looked at her for a long time. She grew self-conscious under his stare and wished she could read his mind. He was supposed to have jumped at the opportunity to show her his bedroom. He should have grinned like the devil himself and invited her to follow him like a lamb to the slaughter. But all he did was look at her in that inscrutable way of his.
Then he moistened his lips as if he was thinking hard and said, "You know, when I was a boy, my mother used to give me an energy bar whenever I demanded hot chocolate. I got mad at her for that but she made me eat it, anyway." He stopped and smiled at her a little.
Jasmine had no idea where he was going with this so she simply waited for him to come to the point.
"She let me have the hot chocolate when I least expected it at the very end of the day and to me it tasted all the more sweet because she saved the best for the last," he continued and slowly, she started to realize what kind of point he was trying to make with the unlikely analogy.
His smile grew wider when he saw that she was getting it.
"So you're telling me that you know what is best for me and when I'm supposed to get it?" she questioned in a superior tone.
Honestly, the nerve of this guy. His smile had turned purely wicked by then. "No, honey." He opened the door and stepped out in the hall. "I'm telling you, in my own loquacious style, what the theme
