by M. V. Kasi
Shiv was about to go to his bedroom when Sitaram looked hesitant. “What is it, Sitaram?”
The old man frowned. “It’s Naina. She hasn’t come for breakfast.”
Shiv smiled. “She must be sleeping in late. Arrange everything by the pool and leave. I’ll call you if we need anything. Give the staff the instructions too.”
Sitaram nodded and left to do as he was instructed.
Meantime, Shiv’s anticipation grew. He was looking forward to a long, passionate reunion which would prolong for hours. Even though he had promised Naina they would celebrate big when he got back, he hoped he could convince her and distract her to postpone that by a few days.
Grinning, he pushed the bedroom door open. The first thing he noticed was that the room was kept dark. Even the thick curtains were drawn closed.
I hope she isn’t too tired.
Even if she was tired, all he wanted was to pull her into his arms so they could finally fall asleep wrapped around each other after a week of being apart.
He switched on the lights near the walk-in closet and shed his jacket and shirt. He had intended to shower first before going to Naina, but he felt impatient to see her.
He walked back to the bedroom, fully expecting her to be sleeping peacefully on their bed, but was surprised to see her sitting on a chair next to the closed curtains.
She wasn’t sleeping because her body wasn’t slouched. And something about her stillness instantly put him on alert, and he strode to her. “Naina? What happened?”
When she was silent, he pushed the curtain away, streaming in sunlight. She didn’t even flinch when the bright light fell on her face. But he did.
Her eyes were swollen, and she looked utterly devastated.
“Naina, what happened?” he asked again. “Is your mother all right?”
He couldn’t imagine what might have put that look of utter devastation on her face. Vasu didn’t say anything about Naina’s mother. He mentioned that Naina looked happy when she returned home. If something happened with her mother, he doubted Naina would remain home rather than rushing to her mother’s side.
“I want a divorce.”
He was stunned. He had expected the worst, but still, he was stunned. She might not love him or feel as strongly as he felt about her, but he expected her to have softened towards him. Fuck, maybe he did expect her to fall in love with him like he had fallen for her nearly a year ago.
“Why?” he demanded.
“Because I want to be free from you. I hate you. I have always hated you. I can’t pretend anymore. I want a divorce.”
Dark anger and possessiveness raged through him. There was also an underlying shit-ton of hurt he felt at her words. “Stop lying,” he growled. He held her arms and dragged her up from the chair until she was standing and facing him. “You don’t hate me. And the last three months weren’t pretending. You wanted me as much as I wanted you. You responded. Fuck, you broke apart in my arms and clung to me.”
She flinched at the anger in his words. “No. It was all a pretence. I slept with you only because you will allow me to finish my studies and let me meet my mother. Now that my exams are done, I no longer want to stay in this marriage. I want a divorce.”
He knew she was lying. He could sense it. And yet, he was allowing her words to sink into his heart like claws.
“Too fucking bad,” he growled. “Then continue to pretend you enjoy my fucking because I won’t divorce you and I won’t ever let you go.”
She sucked in her breath. “Why?” she demanded, her voice harsh and ugly. “You don’t care for me or even want me. If it’s my father’s political power, then you should know that he and my stepmother are going to be jailed soon.”
“I don’t give a fuck of what happens to your father or your stepmother. It was never about your father’s political power. The sick fuck barely has any power.”
She looked stunned.
“And what the bloody hell do you mean by I don’t care for you or want you?” he demanded. “At what bloody point in the last three months did I ever make you feel that way!”
Her eyes lowered, but he could see the tremble of her lips. “Actions speak louder than words,” she whispered.
“What the fuck does that mean,” he demanded. Every bloody moment, he thought of her and wanted to be with her. When did he ever make her feel unwanted or unloved?
“Just let me go, Shiv,” she whispered.
Everything inside him rebelled. “No. I’m never letting you go.” Regardless of the madman who wanted to destroy him through her, he was never letting her go.
“I won’t be with you,” she said. She looked up at him with determination. “If you don’t let me go, I’ll escape.”
He clenched his jaw. “You just sealed your fate, sweetheart. Unless I’m next to you, you are no longer allowed to step out of the penthouse.”
There was no anger in her eyes, just the look of utter devastation.
He hated seeing her in pain. “Tell me what is really bothering you, Naina. I know all this talk of you pretending the last three months is bullshit. Tell me the real reason.”
“It is the real reason,” she whispered. “I slept with you to make my life easier. I hate you, and I hate your touch.”
Dark rage erupted inside him once again. He tightened his grip on her arms before crashing his mouth on top of hers. He knew his kiss was too rough, far from the tender yet passionate one he wanted to give her after missing her for over a week.
She moaned, the sound of it going straight to his groin, arousing a primal instinct to dominate and claim her until she gave in to him. He felt her body soften and felt the hardened peaks of her nipples against his bare chest. But what froze him and stopped him short was the wetness from her tears. The salty taste of her tears against their mouths made him pull away.
He stepped back from her. He watched her as she cried silently. Feeling angry and helpless, he strode out of the bedroom, slamming the door shut.
CHAPTER 4 7
“Would you like something else, Naina?”
“No. I’m good.”
“But you have hardly eaten anything for five days. If you would like—”
“I’m not hungry, Geetabhai.” Naina looked at Geetabhai’s concerned frown. “I promise,I’ll have something tomorrow for breakfast.”
“That’s what you said yesterday and the day before yesterday too. You look tired. Are you sure you are feeling okay?
“Yes, I’m fine.”
The older woman’s concerned frown remained. “It’s not my place to intervene in other’s lives. But as someone who respects and cares for both you and Shiv, I want to say that whatever happened, please talk to each other and make up. The love between you two is real. Not many are fortunate to find it.”
Naina didn’t reply. She nodded even though she had no intention of talking to Shiv.
Geetabhai cleared up the dishes and left.
It’s been two days since Shiv returned home. After she had told him of wanting a divorce, he moved into the guest bedroom. She didn’t see him much. But she did sense his presence when he came home well past midnight. She pretended to be asleep, but she felt his presence when he stood next to the bed and watched her for a long time.
She wondered what she would do if he got into the bed and demanded marital rights. A part of her sick mind even wanted him to, so she wouldn’t have a choice and give in to him.
She missed him more than she had missed him while he was away on a trip.
Now, even though he was physically closer, they couldn’t have been further apart mentally.
She wanted to hate him for the betrayal, but she couldn’t get herself to do it. Like a pathetic woman, she still loved him and had thoughts of forgiving him, so she could go back to his arms again. Just so she could stop the burning and stabbing pain deep inside her.
But she stopped herself.
She talked herself into continuing the numb, colorless life until he compl
etely lost interest in her and threw her out without her having to escape him.
Feeling tired to her bones, she walked towards her bag. The small folder which she was reluctant even to touch was now going to be her savior again. She was going to resume her future plans.
With trembling hands, she pulled out the folder, intending to check the passports to book airline tickets. But her hands met with an empty folder.
The passports were gone.
***
With anger and fear raging inside her, she walked out of the bedroom after nearly five days.
“Where is Shiv?” she demanded when she saw Sitaram. She knew that Sitaram must have been given instructions to contact him in case she was leaving the penthouse.
“Shiv is in the guest bedroom.”
She was taken aback. She expected Shiv to be outside somewhere taking out his frustration and desire on some other woman.
“Thanks, Sitaram.”
She marched towards the guest bedrooms. She saw the light under one and pushed the door open without knocking or asking for permission.
“Where are my mother’s and my passports?” she demanded.
He was seated on the bed watching something on a laptop. With his usual sleep attire of being shirtless and wearing just sleep shorts, he looked devastatingly handsome. She tried to push away the sparks of attraction she felt, especially when his eyes swept over her. She was in her regular nightclothes.
“I know you took them! Give them back!” she demanded.
He didn’t react to her angry demand. “I’ve kept them safe.”
“Safe from whom? And for how long? When can I be free from you and this marriage!”
His jaw clenched. “Never,” he replied. “You will never be rid of me or our marriage.”
She was frustrated and angry. “Why? Is it ego because I asked you first for a divorce, rather than wait like a pathetic wife until you got bored of me and threw me out?”
His eyes blazed in anger. “Ego or not, you are not going anywhere.”
She wanted to attack him. She wanted to pound on his chest and demand that he stop torturing her and let her go.
He watched her, reading her mind, and daring her to approach him to attack him.
But she didn’t attack him. She didn’t want to touch him. Instead, she turned and stormed out of the guest bedroom.
She didn’t stop when she returned to the master bedroom. She was determined to find the passports. She marched into the walk-in closet and threw open the closet doors on the side where his clothes were kept. Racks and racks were filled with his suits and shirts. But underneath, there were shelves filled with his shorts and other clothes. She dragged them all out, hunting for the passports.
It took a lot of time to empty the shelves in the closet one by one. She saw thick photo albums. When she opened them, she realized they were family albums containing pictures of family time, birthday parties and vacations. She knew his parents and sister had died in an accident nearly ten years ago. Sitaram had told her that when she had asked him.
She closed the albums and continued to hunt. She found an envelope, slightly bigger than the one that contained the passports. She pulled it out, hoping to find the passports.
But she was shocked by the contents.
There were several pictures and a couple of knick-knacks. But they weren’t family pictures. They were of her.
She looked at the images and saw that they were taken while she was at her college campus or visiting her mother. Based on her mother’s and her clothes, some of them were dated at least a year and a half ago. Her eyes fell on the knick-knacks. One was the rubber band he had stolen from her when he had broken into her bedroom in her father’s house. The other item was the cheap silver chain with a blue pendant—the one she thought she had lost.
She frowned. She recalled wearing the chain the last time when she had wanted to visit the club to meet him. But she had eventually ended up not going.
Her mind spun with confusing thoughts. Why did he have her followed and pictures taken? And why did he keep such cheap mementos of hers?
A voice inside her screamed that he cared for her. What they had between them right from the first moment they met was something honest and real. And over the last three months, it turned into something deeper and everlasting.
However, another voice, the cautious one, the one that had been scarred and hurt by what happened to her mother, insisted on judging their relationship by what she saw on her phone.
With trembling hands, she reached for her phone. She opened the message sent from the private number. Biting her lips and controlling herself, she clicked on the video.
Her heart thudded sickly once again when she saw the visual of her naked stepmother bent over a table while Shiv plunged into her from behind.
She wanted to close it immediately, but something made her watch the video again until she finished every sick second in that five-minute video. She kept her eyes trained on Shiv. Unlike her stepmother, he was still mostly dressed, only his pants were pulled down slightly.
Slowly, she noticed that Shiv’s hands clutching Monica’s hips appeared much paler than Monica’s fair skin. There were even strange tattoos on his fingers that she knew Shiv didn’t have.
Her heart began to drum inside her chest when she came to a conclusion.
The man in the video wasn’t Shiv. It was photoshopped to look like him.
***
With her heart thudding in nervousness, she went back to the guest bedroom and knocked on the door.
His deep voice answered. “Come in.”
When she opened the door and stepped in, there was a momentary surprise, and then his face became blank again.
Her heart ached for the pain she had caused him. She wanted to jump on him and kiss him all over before begging for his forgiveness. But before that, there was still a small, insecure part of her that insisted on hearing the truth from his mouth.
“Did you cheat on me after we got married?” she asked.
His eyes flared. “No,” he bit out.
“D-did you ever have sex with my stepmother before our marriage?”
A look of disgust passed on his face. “No.”
She hesitated, feeling nervous about what would happen next. “I… I… thought you were cheating on me with Monica during your London trip.”
Her heart thudded hard with the silence that followed. She could almost feel his anger slowly growing and thickening, filling up the entire room with heavy tension.
He placed the laptop next to him on the nightstand before getting out of the bed.
Her heart thudded with nervousness as she continued to explain. “I-I know I shouldn’t have believed Monica because she hates me.”
His eyes flared. “Oh. So this time you chose to believe I didn’t fuck another woman, only because the information came from someone you don’t trust. But in the future, if someone else made a similar accusation, you’d believe them rather than confront me or trust me.
“I… I… I should have spoken to you about it.”
His mouth lifted in a half-sneer. “I know why you didn’t. You’ve always thought of me as a faithless, depraved animal.”
She opened her mouth to dispute that, but he didn’t let her speak.
“And regardless of what you thought of me or how you felt for me, you’ve always enjoyed me fucking you.”
She knew he was hurt by her actions and was lashing out. “I know I should have spoken to you. I’m sorry that I didn’t, and I hurt you.”
His sneer grew. “Hurt me? To hurt me you should mean something to me. You were right all along. I don’t have to pretend anymore. I married you to gain your father’s political power.” His eyes swept over her. “And I fucked you because you were a challenge and I enjoyed the thrill of a chase.”
He hit on the insecurities she held for so long about their relationship. But after seeing her rubber band and cheap silver chain he saved and also the way he was
with her during their marriage, it made her acknowledge that he loved her the way she loved him.
She knew she had to soothe his hurt, but the look on his face didn’t make it easy for her.
“Come here,” he commanded.
“What?”
“Take off your clothes, lie on the bed and spread your legs. I want to suck those perfect tits while I bury myself inside you. Apart from fucking each other’s brains out, we have nothing else going on in our marriage.”
His words were deliberately crude. Despite knowing they had something important to discuss, the look in his eyes, a mixture of anger and lust, had her body reacting. Her breasts peaked, and her core throbbed as though preparing her for what his eyes conveyed he wanted to do to her right then.
She shook her head and focused on the topic at hand. The fact that he was trying to get a rise out of her made her more determined.
“No,” she said. “There’s more to our relationship than sex. Right from the first moment we met, I have always felt the pull between us. I fought it for so long because of how I grew up. I—”
He cut her off. “I am a criminal,” he said. “I married you to gain your father’s political power. I was supposed to marry Aditi Somraj, but Anirudh wanted her. I didn’t mind because I wanted you for your hot little body. And now that you are my trophy wife, stop wasting my fucking time and make yourself useful. Do what I married you for. Spread your legs while keeping your pretty mouth shut. Or keep your mouth busy in ways I taught you to.”
She felt her anger spike at his crude words. She gritted her teeth, not letting his words affect her. “I won’t let you piss me off or scare me,” she said with a raised chin. “What we have between us is love. I’ve seen it in every touch and smile during the last three months.”
He smiled. Bu it was nowhere reassuring. Quite the opposite. It was a dark smile that made her stomach quiver. “Is that so?” he drawled.
She stifled a gasp when he stalked towards her. He stood barely a few inches away, trying to intimidate her with his height and presence.