Scorpio Superstar (Written in the Stars Book 1)

by Sundari Venkatraman

  With a sigh, she leaned her head back and shut her eyes, taking deep and calming breaths, removing all negative thoughts. She was going to look beautiful today. Urvashi had delivered her clothes on Thursday and they couldn’t have looked more elegant. Ranjini was looking forward to wearing the dress, having decided against the saris. She wondered what Maragadham and the other women were going to say about it. But no, she’d better stay out of it. It was only Chandrakanth’s opinion that mattered. She would have preferred not to get on the wrong foot with all his cousins. But then, they shouldn’t have threatened her space.

  “Hey.”

  Ranjini’s eyes came wide open when she heard her husband’s voice, a cheerful smile of welcome on her face as she lifted her arms to him. “Wanna join me? The water’s hot and simply awesome.”

  Chandrakanth removed his clothes swiftly, not really caring where he dropped them, running his scorching gaze over his wife’s body. He stepped into the tub, saying, “I’m sure your body in it has made it all the hotter.” He settled opposite her, his legs spread wide on both sides of hers, lifting her feet to place them on his chest.

  Ranjini laughed, stroking his hairy chest with the underside of her feet, adoring the sensation. “How did your shoot go?”

  “It was perfect.” He bent down to nibble on the pad of her big toe before taking it in his mouth to suck on it, making her whimper with need.

  “Chandru...” Her hands travelled restlessly over his legs, knees and thighs, her eyes on his as she bent her left leg to place her foot on his shaft, moving it gently to and fro. She grinned when she heard his groan of need, continuing to caress him. She choked when he bent forward to run a rough hand over her feminine mound, caressing the dark curls before thrusting two fingers into her wetness. “Chandru...” Ranjini moaned her want. She pulled her legs away, and went on her knees before falling into his arms. “I want you.”

  Chandrakanth obliged every whim of his wife’s, satisfying her with his lovemaking. Ranjini revelled in his attention, all the hurts wiped away as she felt wanted and cherished by her husband.

  He held her in his arms, his hands stroking the silky skin of her back as he asked, “So what do you plan to wear?”

  “Palazzo pants teamed with a snazzy full-length top. I think your three-piece suit will go best with it.”

  “Whatever you want, Ranju.” He nuzzled her ear, his tongue tracing the shape. “Did you like Urvashi’s design?”

  “You tell me what you think when I’m ready.” She looked at him through her half closed eyes, stroking his cheek with a lazy hand. “You need a shave, though I like this scruffy look.” She replaced her hand with her lips, giving him a wet kiss.

  “I know you like it rough,” he said in a teasing voice, bending further down to rub his cheek against the tip of her breast.

  “I love it when you do that.” Ranjini’s voice was hoarse as she pressed closer to him.

  “So, do you want me to leave the fuzz on? It’ll only get thicker by night.” He lifted his head to give her a wicked look, his hot gaze roving avidly over her.

  Ranjini laughed. “If you’re sure, I’d love that. But what if someone...?”

  “Forget everyone. It’s you I’m out to impress.” His voice was equally hoarse.

  Ranjini buried her face in his chest, getting emotional at his passionate words. And she was glad to know that her husband didn’t much care about what the others thought. Attitude! That’s what the superstar had in plenty and that’s what made his fans—and her— crazy about him.

  She was almost asleep when Chandrakanth got up after twenty minutes, wrapping her in a fluffy towel and carrying her into their bedroom.

  “Listen, I’ll take barely fifteen minutes to get ready. I’ll go down to meet my cousins. You’ll want more time for dressing up. Do you have someone to help you? Or I can.”

  Ranjini came wide awake at his words. “You can? We are talking about dressing up, not undressing.” She winked at him, laughter in her voice.

  He pulled her into his arms, biting a silky shoulder even as he pressed his face into the crook of her neck. “I’ll let you get away with it only because we have to be down in the ballroom before the guests begin to arrive.” His voice was a growl as he pinched her bare bottom. “Or I’d have proved it to you right now.”

  “Ouch!” Ranjini pulled off his hand from her bottom, pretending to hurt. “I can’t wait for you to prove it. Oh by the way, my bum needs to be kissed better.”

  She jumped in surprise when her husband did just that, before patting her. “Did that make it better or you wanna more?”

  Ranjini turned over her shoulder to look at the kneeling Chandrakanth and said, “I wish we weren’t hosting a party just now.”

  He got up to hug her from behind. “I know exactly what you mean.” Nibbling her jaw line, he asked, “Would you like to go with me to Ramoji Film City next week? I have a ten-day schedule, but can manage to spend time with you. What say?”

  “I say yes.” Ranjini turned her head to kiss his chest. “Do you need help getting dressed?” she asked, mischief dancing in her eyes.

  “You can sit back on that chaise lounge and watch.”

  “This is truly an honour. I’m sure half the women in Tamil Nadu would give an arm and a leg for this live show.” Ranjini grinned as she walked over and settled on the chaise.

  “Just keep your bum safe since my hand’s itching to have a go at it.” Chandrakanth growled mockingly before opening the wardrobe to pull out his suit that was hanging in there.

  Ranjini enjoyed watching him in action, admiring the way he got ready without fuss, donning the pearl grey suit, teamed with a dark grey shirt and a tie that had crosswise stripes of grey and fuschia pink, the exact shade as her dress. His hair was brushed back neatly as was his thick moustache. She got up when he thrust his feet into black leather shoes and threw her arms around his neck. “You look awesome, Chandru. I’m proud to be your wife.”

  Colour ran up Chandrakanth’s cheeks as he pressed his lips to his wife’s cheek. “You can’t be prouder than I am to have you as my wife.”

  He left with a wave, his words warming her heart as Ranjini set out to doll herself up.

  Chandrakanth knocked on the door to the suite of rooms where Maragadham and her family were put up for a few hours, to make it convenient for them to get ready. His aunt’s younger son Murali’s wife, Krithika, opened the door for him. “Hello CK, come in, come in. You look resplendent,” she greeted him, giving him an affectionate smile. The whole family was proud to be related to the superstar.

  “Hello Krithika,” said Chandrakanth, an answering smile on his face. “How have you been?”

  “Just great. We met your wife some time back.”

  Chandrakanth contained his surprise as he looked back at Krithika, his expression letting on nothing but a soft smile. Ranjini hadn’t mentioned anything to him. But then he remembered that they hadn’t really had time to talk about others. “You did? That’s nice.”

  Kanthimathi walked into the sitting room to see who had come. “Hello Chandrakanth, congratulations!” She shook his hand, wishing him. “You are a dark one, keeping your wedding hushed up from all of us,” she accused him in the same breath.

  Chandrakanth laughed softly, giving a shrug of his wide shoulders. “What to do, anni, the situation called for it.” He addressed his eldest cousin-in-law respectfully by her title since she was much older and had wed into their family even before Chandrakanth had finished school.

  “What situation?” Kanthimathi demanded to know.

  “I have a hectic shooting schedule over the next eight months and can’t take off on a holiday. That’s why I decided to get married immediately.” It had been years since Chandrakanth had bothered to explain his actions to anyone. But well, Kanthimathi was family and he couldn’t really avoid answering her direct question.

  Maragadham had also come out of the bedroom by now and had heard his words. She controlled herself with
great difficulty from voicing the words that were threatening to burst from her lips, willing Kanthimathi to say them in her stead. After all, the three of them had been discussing Chandrakanth and his rushed marriage to that Ranjini just before he had arrived at the suite.

  “But Chandrakanth, it’s only eight months. You could have got engaged to the girl and married her later. We could have organised a grand wedding over three days. We have missed out on all the fun because of your hurried wedding.” Kanthimathi scolded him, confident that she had the right.

  “We can have all the fun we want today, can’t we, anni?” CK didn’t want to explain to her why he hadn’t wanted to wait for eight months before making Ranjini his. His cousins had both had their weddings arranged and had no idea what it was like to fall in love at first glance. Ranjini had walked into his heart and taken over it from the moment he had set his eyes on her. Every moment spent away from her had been painful until he made her his.

  “Tch! If you say so.”

  “Where are Somu and Murali?”

  “They will pick the children up from school, get them ready and come directly to the reception.” Krithika answered his question.

  Maragadham sat on a sofa, stony faced, not liking the turn of events. Chandrakanth had adroitly avoided answering Kanthimathi’s question. What the matriarch didn’t realise was that the deed was already done and however much they discussed it, it wasn’t going to be undone.

  “So, where’s your wife now?” Kanthimathi asked.

  “Ranjini’s getting ready.” He looked at his watch to see that it was just five. “I think she should be done in half an hour.”

  “You know, we offered to hire the hotel’s beautician for her. But she refused.” Kanthimathi frowned, working around her words carefully so as not to annoy her cousin-in-law. Chandrakanth could be cutting if he chose, though he rarely said much.

  Chandrakanth nodded, not saying anything in reply.

  “But she’s so dark.” The words burst out of Krithika’s lips as if she couldn’t control them. Maragadham and Kanthimathi nodded together in agreement.

  “So?” A black and supercilious brow went up to touch his hairline as Chandrakanth eyed the three women in front of him.

  “I was wondering if she had trapped you into marriage somehow.” Krithika’s words came in a whisper now, quoting her mother-in-law without realising what she was doing. She stared at the superstar in morbid fascination, nervous now when she noticed the fire in his molten brown gaze.

  Chandrakanth got up from his chair and drew himself up to his full height, keeping his temper under control with an ease that came from dedicatedly disciplining himself over the years. He met his relatives but rarely. Why insult them? “Listen, it was I who insisted on wedding Ranjini. It was with great reluctance that she agreed. Dark or not, she’s the one I’ve chosen for my life partner and I expect you all to treat my wife with the respect due to her.” He stepped to the door before turning and addressing them again, “I’ll see you all down at the ballroom.”

  The three women stood there stiffly, shocked beyond words as they stared at one another. One thought was predominant in all their heads: What had Chandrakanth seen in Ranjini? Since none of them had an answer, they quietly went about getting dressed up.

  15

  It was 7.45 when Mridula stepped into Rajendra Ballroom along with director Sridhar Menon. She wore a brocade sari in ink blue, her hair set in an elaborate coiffure, with thick make up coating her face. In all, she had done her best to appear younger than her thirty-two years. Yeah, the superstar’s new bride was her competition and that woman looked like a college girl.

  Mridula walked down the room, forgetting all about her escort, her eyes pinned on the couple on the dais. Her anger burned like acid, churning her stomach as she stared first at Chandrakanth, who was looking dapper in his three-piece suit. But she couldn’t take her eyes off his bride from the moment they lit on her. Was it the same simple looking sparrow that she had met at Urvashi’s showroom? This woman looked nothing short of a royal princess, not that Mridula planned to admit it to anyone on earth.

  Ranjini was tall! Mridula remembered noticing but conveniently ignoring that small detail the other day. But it looked like height was an added advantage as she herself was just three inches above five feet. Another unexpected thing was that the bride wasn’t wrapped in a formal sari. She wore some kind of loose and flowy pants—yeah, Mridula could see that now that she was barely ten feet from where the couple was standing—that was made of pure crepe in the same colours as CK’s tie—pink and grey. She wore a long, figure hugging top that flared from the hips and fell to mid-calf, with slits running down both sides. The fuschia pink should have clashed rudely with her dark skin colour. But it had turned out to be a traitor, thought Mridula, making Ranjini’s skin glow. And, Mridula stared harder still when she noticed hand embroidery of gold and rhinestones that shimmered with Ranjini’s every movement, making the dress perfect for a bride. The barely there chiffon scarf in the exact same print as her pants, was just an accessory that fell from her left shoulder. Her hair was parted in the middle, falling to her shoulders and below, brushed backwards in large curls that were edged with gold highlights. Mridula gritted her teeth hard when she saw the woman’s face that was alight with laughter as Chandrakanth whispered something in her ear. Shouldn’t they be ashamed of behaving like this in public at their own party?

  Mridula walked a few steps further, a glutton for punishment, before noticing the diamonds dripping from Ranjini’s ears, neck and wrists, the colour draining completely from her face as jealousy ate into her innards. Green monsters broke into a war dance in her head when she saw the subtle make up on the bride’s face. Her face didn’t look all that different from the other day unless one really noticed the eye shadow of dark gold, blending well with the woman’s skin tone, the eyeliner of deepest grey, just one shade lighter than her charcoal eyes. The brightest colour on her face was from the fuschia pink pottu on her forehead and the lipstick of the same shade.

  Youth! That’s what made Chandrakanth run after the woman, thought Mridula bitterly. She conveniently forgot that they had been to bed just the once, that too, because Mridula had as good as begged him to take her in a drunken stupor.

  Mridula had been part of Kollywood since she was eighteen and that was fourteen years ago. She had been there since way before Chandrakanth had put his foot inside the film industry. She liked to believe that she had had a hand in introducing the superstar to his first director. Chandrakanth had never seen the need to set her right on that premise, letting her believe her lie.

  Mridula had had no qualms about sleeping around to get the bit parts that she had, having no acting skills to save her life. She didn’t care as long as the public continued to recognise her. And as for Chandrakanth, it wasn’t as if he wasn’t her lover for lack of trying on her part. If she had really thought about it, she had never, ever, found herself alone with him after that fateful night. She still couldn’t understand how he could resist her charms. Many of the other actors and directors were unable to. Like Sridhar Menon—they had been lovers, on and off, since two years. Neither of them bothered about being faithful to the other. And of course he was married with three kids. For all she knew, his wife was also aware of his multiple love affairs.

  But it was the man who got away, especially after he had been caught for a few hours, who had left a mark on Mridula. She had to have him or die in the process, she thought dramatically. She stopped suddenly to turn around, her eyes searching for Sridhar, frowning deeply when she saw him making his way down the hall at his leisure, stopping to chat with people he knew, people Mridula hadn’t noticed as her eyes had been trained on the newlyweds.

  They finally went up on the stage to congratulate Chandrakanth and Ranjini. “CK,” Mridula yodelled, “You look awesome. Aren’t you going to introduce me to your wife?” She held his hand in both of hers, pretending not to notice Sridhar’s hand hanging in the a
ir as he had raised it to shake the superstar’s hand. She stood close to Chandrakanth, her body brushing against his, hoping to remind him of their brief closeness.

  “Sridhar sir, this is my wife Ranjini. And Ranjini, meet Sridhar Menon. You know that he’s a famous film director.” Chandrakanth had not only pulled his hand from out of Mridula’s clasp, but had placed it on his wife’s shoulder, drawing her closer to himself.

  “Namaskaram!” Sridhar brought both his hands together in a respectful greeting. “Looking at you madam, I can understand why the superstar didn’t want to wait too long before wedding you. Wish you both a very happy married life.” The fifty-year-old smiled benignly at the couple.

  “Namaskaram Sridhar uncle!” Ranjini returned his greeting. “Thank you for your blessings sir. I have watched every film of yours and loved them all,” she grinned.

  “I am sure, especially since most of them have your husband starring in them.”

  Ranjini laughed, the bell like sound turning heads all around. “That’s so true. Chandru is the best!” She pressed the back of her head on her husband’s chest as she addressed the director.