Chapter 11

The late afternoon sun poured through the windshield of the Mitsubishi Pajero as Kumar and Daniela waited outside the gates of the American School. Daniela had slid across the leather seat without thinking, her shoulder pressed comfortably against his, his thick arm resting casually along the seatback behind her. Over the past week, this easy closeness had become second nature to them. Neither of them questioned it anymore. It simply felt right.

They had fallen into a beautiful, exhausting rhythm. Every morning began early, with Daniela watching him play tennis with Rajesh from the sidelines, shouting sarcastic, teasing distractions that made Kumar laugh even when he blew a shot. Afterward, she would join him in the gym. She took sheer delight in torturing him, flaunting her spectacular curves in tight shorts or leggings and a tiny sports bra that left almost nothing to the imagination, “accidentally” brushing her chest or hips against him between sets. She delighted in knowing full well she only showed off like this for him. She often smiled internally thinking about how she never cared about these things before, but with Kumar ... it felt right.

Her hands would linger on his lower back during deadlifts. His fingers brushed the bare skin of her waist when he corrected her form. Soon she was openly sitting on his lap between sets, pretending to catch her breath while he tried (and failed) to hide how affected he was by the press of her full breasts and the warmth of her body.

The sauna had quickly become their private, charged ritual. Wrapped in nothing but thin towels and heavy steam, they sat side-by-side, thighs brushing, the sexual tension thick enough to choke on. It always ended the same way, Daniela leaning in, tracing lazy patterns on his chest, trying to steal a wet, heavy kiss that he would gently but firmly refuse at the last possible second. She knew he wanted her. She wasn’t blind; she saw and felt the hard, substantial evidence pressing against her heated body every single day.

But he would never take the step. He actively deflected every time she thought she had finally broken through his walls.

Sometimes, the frustration was so intense it made her blood boil. It drove her to a dark, needy place at night, where she required Sofia to slap, spank, or choke her extra hard in the bedroom just to burn off the residual sexual hysteria Kumar left her with. Surprisingly, the sweet, artistic Sofia had absolutely no qualms about abusing Daniela’s body exactly the way she craved it. The only real problem was that while Sofia’s fingers and mouth felt incredible, Daniela desperately wanted Kumar to be the one delivering the rough handling. Layla never joined their nocturnal trysts, but she would sit on the edge of the bed, watching them make love, masturbating furiously while all three of them moaned and groaned in the dark, entirely consumed by fantasies of their tutor.

Yet, during the day, that darkness melted into pure companionship. They would spend hours talking about everything and nothing - childhood memories, travel, food, dreams, and silly inside jokes. It felt as if they were desperately trying to make up for all the years they hadn’t known each other. They simply loved being in each other’s orbit.

While Kumar tutored the younger girls in the afternoons, Daniela stayed back with Latha and Isabella. She had quickly grown in awe of their deep, effortless friendship—the warmth they showed Sofia and Layla, and the quiet, matriarchal strength with which they held both households together. She found Latha and Rajesh every bit as wonderful as the girls had promised. Secretly, a quiet ache had formed in her chest; she yearned to be accepted into this family, to be thought of as Latha’s daughter as well.

Now, as the school gates began to unlock, Daniela leaned her head against Kumar’s shoulder with a soft, contented sigh. Kumar’s fingers absently traced slow, soothing circles on her bare arm. They didn’t speak of the heavy things weighing on them.

Kumar was still terrified of moving on. Emily had left deep, jagged scars he wasn’t ready to examine yet. And even if he could heal, how the hell was he supposed to choose? He liked something completely real, distinct, and intoxicating about each of them. Sofia’s gentle, artistic heart made him want to shield her from the world. Layla’s fierce, competitive fire challenged and excited him. And Daniela had rapidly become his closest confidante—the most beautiful, understanding friend he had ever known. He couldn’t pick one without losing the others, and the mere thought of causing any of them pain made his chest tighten with anxiety.

Daniela was falling just as hard, but fear sat heavy in her stomach. What if Kumar found out about her physical relationship with Sofia? What if he discovered her psychological baggage - the bad experiences with past men, her intense kinks, the way she craved rough submission? What if a man as steady as him couldn’t accept that she wanted him to have all three of them? Underneath it all lay a quiet, shameful worry that he might ultimately prefer Sofia or Layla because they were younger, untouched, and “pure.” She wanted all three girls to share him, but she was terrified he would reject the very concept ... and discard her in the process.

Neither voiced a single word of it. Instead, they simply anchored themselves in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence.

Sofia and Layla burst through the gates and ran straight to the car. Sofia climbed into the back and immediately threw her arms around Kumar’s neck, pressing a warm, sweet kiss to his cheek. “Hola bombón!”

Layla scrambled in right behind her, hugging him tightly from the other side before kissing his other cheek. “Missed you. I’m so glad to see you.”

They hugged Daniela too, full of laughter and chaotic energy. Kumar kept his composure light, only allowing the cheek kisses, though he could feel the girls’ affection growing bolder and more demanding by the day.

As Kumar pulled the Pajero into the flow of traffic, Layla leaned forward between the front seats, a wicked smirk on her lips. “You should have seen Miguel’s face today. He was glaring so hard when we ran out to the car. And Diego looked like someone kicked his puppy.”

Sofia glanced at Layla, a small, genuine frown crossing her delicate features. “Miguel’s not a good guy, chica. He’s ... possessive. The kind of guy you don’t want to cross. Please be careful.”

Layla waved it off, laughing it away. “Please. Kumar can handle him. Right, bombón?”

Kumar raised an eye in the rearview mirror, his voice calm, steady, but laced with an undeniable masculine authority. “I’m not looking for any fights, Layla. I’m here to tutor you two and enjoy the summer. That’s it.”

Layla just smirked, clearly unconvinced by his modesty but utterly delighted by his protective aura.

Daniela smiled quietly to herself in the passenger seat, watching the dynamic play out. Kumar’s legend at the school was apparently growing into an absolute myth—the mysterious, handsome foreigner who had the school’s legendary alumna Daniela and the two most beautiful senior girls running to his car like eager schoolgirls every afternoon. The girls reported the campus gossip with absolute glee.

After tutoring that afternoon, the four of them would hang out together on the terrace as usual. Layla had practically moved into Isabella’s house for the time being, unwilling to miss a single night close to Sofia and Daniela. Yasmine and Omar had already joke-complained to Isabella that their daughter seemed to have legally changed addresses.

The parents, of course, were thrilled. They saw a tight-knit, beautiful unity among the youth. Daniela and Kumar were proving to be phenomenal influences. In just a matter of days, the girls had transformed from wild, unfocused party girls into dedicated students determined to ace their SATs. Plus, they looked radiantly happy. Sofia didn’t mope over her father’s passing anymore. Layla wasn’t desperately acting out for male attention. They were a glowing, synchronized unit that seemed to orbit entirely around the quiet, steady presence of the man driving the Pajero.

Kumar, for his part, hadn’t stopped smiling or laughing since this trio entered his life. They made him feel alive again. But he wanted all of them—a taboo desire that neither their wealthy society nor conventional morality would ever sanction. Moreover, a dark expiration date loomed over his head: what would happen when the summer ended? It could all disappear like a beautiful, cruel dream.

Kumar glanced at Daniela beside him, then at the two excited, beautiful girls laughing in the rearview mirror, and felt that massive, complicated warmth settle deep in his chest.

He was in massive trouble.

And as he accelerated down the winding road, he realized he didn’t want to be saved.

The dining room had fallen into a focused hush, broken only by the steady scratch of pens against heavy paper and the occasional soft, exasperated sigh from one of the girls. Kumar sat at the head of the long mahogany table like a calm general overseeing a crucial campaign. His sleeves were rolled up past his forearms, exposing the lean muscle of his wrists, a red pen balanced deftly between his long fingers as he watched Sofia and Layla work through their packets.

Daniela stood just outside the arched doorway, half-hidden by the heavy linen drapes, her arms crossed snugly under her breasts as she watched the scene unfold. Kumar leaned over Sofia’s paper, pointing something out in that low, steady voice, and Sofia’s face lit up with sudden understanding. Layla, for once, was actually focused, biting her lip in concentration instead of trying to distract him.

As if sensing her presence, Kumar’s gaze drifted up from the vocabulary packets. His dark eyes locked onto Daniela standing in the shadow of the doorway. It was a brief, loaded look—a silent acknowledgment of the early morning heat they had shared in the gym and the suffocating tension of the sauna that still lingered between them. Daniela gave him a slow, heavy-lidded smile, watching his throat bob as he swallowed hard before deliberately forcing his attention back down to the girls’ schoolwork.

A proud, melting warmth filled her chest. He’s doing this for them, she thought, her heart aching in the best way. No expectations. No cheap games. He just ... cares.

She blew a kiss in his direction that he wouldn’t see. She wished that he would return the kiss that she now desperately wanted. She bit her lips wondering when she would be able to taste his lips on her hers.