The smile didn’t reach Jasinder’s eyes as she said in thickly accented English, “I am certain that a short while is all it will take.”
Reign recognized those words for the threat they were designed to be.
Chapter 2
An hour later, the family settled Devesh down on one of the many sofas scattered about in several adjoining rooms. His parents and aunt pulled out the baby photos of him and his twin. Then other family members gave Reign a tour of the nearly eleven thousand square foot oceanfront mansion.
After nearly every family album had been placed before Devesh and Reign in an attempt to get her to acknowledge the obvious, he finally looked over to Reign, gestured to the albums and said, “I am their father.”
Reign closed her eyes, trying to calm the fear that had been tap-dancing in her gut since the near silent drive to the place, then walking into a home—actually, mansion—that took her breath away. Evidently, the Maharaj family was wealthy, though Devesh had been so humble that she would never have guessed that was the case.
“Leena is a mirror image of my sister, and Kamran is a reflection of me,” Devesh explained with a pointed glare at Reign. “That can’t be a coincidence. And they are how old?”
She parted her lips to give a non-answer but nearly choked on the ball of pain lodged squarely in her throat.
“We’re four years, six months, two weeks …” Leena offered cheerily as she glanced at Kamran who looked up from his Disney watch and finished with, “five days and ….” Leena frowned at Kamran, nudging him as she whispered, “You’re supposed to say the hours and minutes, too.”
“It keeps changing,” Kamran said, scowling at his twin. “I have the hard part.”
Reign’s lips tightened when Devesh leaned back in his place on the sofa and continued to study her, eyes widened by the undeniable truth. She’d always encouraged the twins to keep up this way because it made them more aware of the importance of numbers. Now they’d given him the exact coordinates needed to map out the answer on his own, without her confession.
“What made you check out on me back then,” he whispered, frowning as though trying to make sense of the whys of it all. “And why would you keep my children from me? Did I hurt you in some way?”
“No.” She shook her head, alarmed that he would jump to that conclusion. “No, you didn’t.”
“I thought our night together was so beautiful,” he said in a voice that only she could hear. He moved closer to where she stood—a spot that was not too far from the front door. “When I woke that next morning there wasn’t one ache or pain in my body anywhere. Everything was right in my world.” He cupped her face in his hands. “I was determined to go home and let my family know that I would have you in my life no matter how they felt. And then you weren’t there anymore. You didn’t say a word. Left me thinking that I was wrong about us—that you didn’t love me.”
Every word was a stab of pain in her heart.
The tears streaming down Reign’s face almost touched him. Almost. She had kept his children from him all this time and never once considered how much they— or she—would mean to him.
He sucked in a deep breath to calm his anger. Instead, he felt his body go rigid with remembered pleasure of being with her, and quickly decided it would be best to keep a little distance between them for the time being.
Devesh cast his glance over to the twins. Leena was now in Anaya’s arms, and Kamran was on Mumma’s lap. The years when he could not reach Reign had been hard on him. And none of it seemed to faze her—not his pain, not the fact that he was hurt even more by her insistence on keeping this secret. This beautiful, but heart-wrenching secret.
“I demand to have equal time with my children,” he said when no answers were forthcoming from Reign. His eyes held tightly to hers. “You have had them all to yourself for four, nearly five, years. And I have had none. I demand some time to get to know them. For my family to get to as well.”
Reign placed her focus on the twins, who were taking a pointed interested in the private conversation being held between their parents on the opposite side of the room.
“You have done them and me a great injustice, Reign,” he said, his voice holding a gravity that mirrored how he felt. “And I demand that you make it right. Give me some time with them—alone.” He placed his hands on her upper arms. “Four years would work. Four years, six months, two weeks and five days to be exact, but I’ll settle for a couple of hours until we can work things out.”
She vehemently argued her point against leaving the children with people they didn’t know. This went on for nearly half an hour, and he countered each and every one of her objections before she finally gave up, stared up at him, then snatched from his hold.
“Two hours. Is that too much to ask?”
Reign went to her children, gathered them from his mother’s and sister’s arms. She held them to her for several moments, then whispered something to each of them. They embraced her and nodded their acceptance of what she had said, but did not look happy.
She gave Mumma an intense look, and when the salt-and-pepper haired woman slowly nodded to the unspoken request, only then did Reign release a resigned breath. She left the house without giving him or anyone else so much as a goodbye. And as much as he wanted to run after her, the anger holding him hostage would not let him. He continued to watch through the foyer’s windows as the rental car she slid into drove off and disappeared.
Children. He actually had children. For so long, he thought maybe he was sterile because none of the few women he’d been with had ended up pregnant. Not that he’d been trying to sire a child, but he hadn’t exactly been careful about doing what it took to prevent a pregnancy either. But that one majestic night with Reign had been the most powerful and explosive love-making he’d ever experienced. Somehow, it resulted in giving him the one thing that had alluded him for far too long. And it happened with the woman he had fallen for from the first time they’d held a conversation in Vegas.
Though he had witnessed the love that his parents had for each other, marriage had not been something Devesh had wanted early on—until he met Reign. Given his family’s rejection of her, before she had even graced their presence, he thought that the union would never be possible. By the time he was prepared to defy them, his ambition had taken a front seat. Travel to other countries and charity work for the orphanages in India helped keep him from obsessing over his family’s rejection of Reign. But when he thought about a family, he wanted it with a woman who had it together, who knew how to establish goals and reach them. A woman who was done playing games. He wanted a woman that he could learn from, that he could love, and who would love him not for the way he looked or for his body. Someone who would complement the parts of him that needed it most.
Devesh knew from day one that Reign was that woman, but his family was not hearing him. Especially when Tiya had taken it upon herself to extract a few images of Reign from a social media page. When his mother and father took a look, saw that she wasn’t his age and that she wasn’t East Indian, they were adamant about Devesh cutting off all ties with her. The argument went on for months before he’d allowed his friendship with Reign to diminish, and he had hated to give in to their wishes. Nothing filled the void that the loss of her had created—not work, not travel, not family. Nothing.
Then they reconnected almost two years later in Atlanta. It felt as if no time had separated them between Vegas and Atlanta whatsoever. This time, he was ready to take on every one of his family’s objections—and he had, vehemently, and won. He called to share the news with Reign, fully prepared to forge ahead with a relationship if she would have him. Silence on her end. Now he wondered if he should have expressed his feelings to her before they left Atlanta. Maybe then she would have accepted his calls. Maybe then she would have responded to his emails. Maybe then she wouldn’t have disappeared as if he hadn’t mattered to her as much as she had to him.
On his birthday, fate ha
d brought them together in a way that neither Reign nor his family had any choice but to accept. And his brutal words had sent her running from his parents’ home, hurting in a way he never intended.
Leena looked up at him, a single damning tear streaming down her face, soon followed by several more. She did not look away, and the searing pain in her eyes was not hard to miss.
She had a weary expression that no child should ever wear. Devesh could practically hear her thoughts.
Losing my mother is the price of having a father?
Yes, he had every right to be angry with Reign, but to separate his children from the only parent they had known was downright cruel. Even for a small amount of time.
Leena tugged on her brother’s arm, and Kamran followed her to the northeast corner of the house—the wealth corner—where an altar, a Puja, a brightly lit lamp, the scent of sweet incense, and other sacred pieces and scriptures held space.
The two of them settled on the white marble floor, sitting Indian style—lotus position—as though preparing for a private meditation all their own. Kamran placed his arm about Leena’s little shoulders in a protective gesture. Devesh had done that same thing with his own twin when they were growing up—two East Indian children transported from a place filled with culture, music, literature and familiar faces and dropped into the busy and fast-paced urban landscape of the Bronx.
His children had their backs to the adults, who all looked on, amazed at their silent solidarity. Leena and Kamran somehow recognized the Puja room, a place where Devesh gave reverence to the Creator every day, as the safest place in the Maharaj home. The twins were very much aware of the purpose of this space, and that touched him. In his culture, God the Creator is considered the true owner of the home, and the people within are simply the caretakers. Puja is a daily reminder that God is supposed to have the most important place in everyone’s life, heart, and mind. Evidently, Reign had at least exposed them to some aspects of his culture.
The air was tense, filled with the silent condemnation the twins were too young to speak. He had done them a disservice, and now his children were making their displeasure known. Devesh could only wonder what kind of prayers his children were sending up at the moment. Especially since he, a man who he wanted them to love and trust, had already hurt them. The fact that the twins felt the need for God’s assistance caused a sliver of anguish to run through him. He would make this right.
Devesh crossed the distance from the family room and into the living room, lowered to his knees and settled in the space behind his children at the Puja, who did not bother to turn around and acknowledge his presence.
“I will go and find your mother,” he whispered.
Only then did Leena look over her shoulder, slowly, as though considering those words and the person who said them. She gave a single nod then put her focus back to the Puja. Kamran, obviously the more stubborn of the two, did not acknowledge him at all. The firm set of his shoulders was saying everything that needed to be said. He did not appreciate the way his father had treated his mother, and he would not be swayed as quickly as his sister.
“I promise to bring her back,” Devesh vowed. “Kamran, will you look after your sister for me?”
Seconds passed before Kamran’s body angled to face him, but only slightly. He peered upward into Devesh’s eyes as he said, “I take care of Leena.” He nodded then as though that was the end of the subject.
So serious for someone so young. What had they been through? What did he really know about Reign?
“Thank you.”
Kamran took his sister’s hand before putting his focus on the altar again.
Devesh stood, thoughts whirling of what he would say to Reign when he laid eyes on her again. Without another thought, he snatched up his keys and marched to the door. His youngest sister’s voice rang out loud and clear. “So already we have to take care of your little half-breed bastards?”
He froze with one foot halfway over the threshold. Anger rippled through him so quickly he couldn’t send a message to his brain that he should keep marching toward his mission and ignore that taunt. He was in Tiya’s face within ten strides that ate up the carpet.
“Don’t you ever insult them that way,” he snarled, while Anaya tried to put a solid grip on his arms and hold him back.
“Well, that’s what they are,” Tiya countered, putting a few inches of space between them. She almost tripped over the long, flowing strands of dark hair that touched past her ankles.
Aunt Kavya turned an icy glare to Tiya, then looked to Devesh before placing a calming hand on his arm.
“Yes, they are of mixed parentage,” he agreed. “But you meant it as an insult beyond that, and I’m taking it as one. Keep a civil tongue when you have anything to say about my children.”
She blew him off with a shrug. He realized that if Tiya could give voice to this kind of anger, then leaving his children there would not be a good thing.
“Leena. Kamran. With me,” Devesh said, extending his hand toward them.
The children were by his side in the time it took to blink. Each flanked him and took hold of one of his hands. Both of them glared at Tiya as though they understood that she had said something improper about them and it was the reason Devesh was not pleased.
“Son, go,” his mother encouraged, leaving her position next to his father and moving into a place in front of Devesh. “I will look to their well-being. Go to her.” She placed a hand on his cheek. “They need her. And you need her. They should not hear the conversation you will have with their mother.”
“Mumma …” he began, using an East Indian endearing word for mother, before sweeping a look across the silent members of his family who donned expressions that ranged from indifference to curiosity to slightly hostile. Except Aunt Kavya, who smiled.
As though sensing the reason for his concern, Mumma added, “I will take care of them myself. I promise you.”
Devesh lowered until he was eye level with his children. “I’m going to your mother, and I’d like for you to stay with my Mumma. Alright?”
The twins took a searching glance at Mumma, whose smile wavered a bit as she tried to be reassuring. Then they scanned the faces of everyone else in the room who stared back at them. The twins tightened their grips on his hands, then released them as they moved forward and reclaimed their positions in front of the Puja.
Evidently, they had a survival instinct that was more intact than his own. And they trusted each other more than they trusted anyone else. Hopefully, that would change over time.
With one last warning look at his youngest sister and a reassuring nod from Mumma, Aunt Kavya, and Anaya, Devesh was out the door and on his way to an uncertain future.
Chapter 3
Reign’s heart was so broken she didn’t know if it could ever be mended. He hated her for what she’d done. She was certain of that one thing. And he had every right to feel that way.
She had taken the easy way out, all because she feared that Devesh would reject the children as he had rejected her—just like Jay’s father had done.
Reign never realized Devesh came from a wealthy family. All this time she believed him to be a struggling aspiring actor who welcomed her help to get his career moving in the right direction. The minute she set foot in the Maharaj home, any myth she’d bought into about him had disappeared so fast it was as if it had never been there.
Though Devesh was loaded, he had the humility and compassion of a man who had grown up on the poorer side of life and didn’t hold the world responsible for any shortcomings.
She thought she’d been so clever by setting up an estate plan that contained explicit details for the children’s care into the age of majority and a letter explaining their existence to a father who would be blindsided by the news. The letter also explained why she felt it necessary to withhold the information that he was the father of two precious children. No need for such a letter or to keep putting money in those trust funds now.<
br />
The Maharaj home exuded an unforgettable ambiance from the moment she crossed the threshold. The display of wealth was extremely unsettling, as it brought the reality they had enough money to give her a serious custody battle. That thought was the only reason she had given in to leaving the twins with him for those two hours. Denying him would have made the situation worse.
She dropped down on the bed and rummaged through the tote bag until her cell was in her hand.
First, she tried to reach her friend Renee, but she was in the middle of counseling a client. Then she tried for Debra who said, “Let me call you back later, love. The massage therapist is here.” Deb’s efforts at regaining full range of motion after a hip replacement was definitely more important than Reign’s unburdening of her soul.
Reign then dialed Janice, who informed her that she was in the lawyer’s office finalizing the details of gaining her freedom from a man who had not seen her value for nearly two decades.
She held the phone for several minutes before making a call to the one person who knew almost as much about her situation with Devesh as she did.
“Jay, I messed up so bad,” she admitted.
“Mama?” he said, and she could tell she had woken him from a daytime nap. He worked on design projects mostly at night, as there weren’t so many distractions. “Mama, what’s wrong?”
“I ran into Devesh today,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “He … he’s going to take them from me.”
“Mama, calm down,” he admonished, and she heard a rustle of what had to be bed linens in the background. “He wouldn’t do that.”
“You didn’t see him. You didn’t hear him,” she cried, gripping the edge of the bed. “He’s so angry with me, it’s not even funny.”
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