Chapter One: Mine
Soft sunlight streamed in through tall glass windows, lighting up a dark masculine bedroom. A woman stirred on the midnight satin covers, her hair falling like a curtain across her face. She flinched from the light, long eyelashes fluttering open. Smokey grey eyes blinked in confusion at the ceiling, bloodshot from the night’s ordeal.
Her bangles clinked as she sat up slowly, a bone deep exhaustion on her features. She had cried herself to sleep last night, unable to quell the fear in her thoughts. She had met him last night. The one person she had never expected to run into again.
Nothing would ever be the same.
Her gaze fell on the empty space beside her, her heart squeezing painfully. The void of her husband’s presence filled her with a piercing yearning. How many nights had he lain beside her; with her and yet so far away. The chasm between them was too wide to bridge; even now, six months into their hastily arranged marriage. They were too different, she and him. He, an all-powerful don and she, just a woman longing to belong.
And yet, she felt his absence this morning like a physical ache. Bringing her legs closer, she rested her throbbing head on her knees glumly. When had she begun to accept his place beside her?
She missed the comfort of his body’s heat, a solemn promise to keep her warm on the coldest nights. She needed the reassuring habit of their banter to complete her day; the sheer elation of besting him at a verbal chess of their creation.
But most of all, she wanted his touch. Just the tiniest bit…to feel alive.
She blushed, sighing at the direction of her thoughts. When had she started to think of him this way? When did he stop being the devil in her life, and just became a man? A man she craved with overwhelming intensity. When did the mere brush of his hand light her up like a thousand suns? His smile igniting desires in her heart…secrets she barely shared with herself, let alone with him.
The black night had threatened to steal something from her, something precious. Something magical. Something delicate. Something she feared losing over everything else.
“Tum mere liye itne zaroori kab ho gaye, Raghav Rao?” Her soft whisper hung in the air, looming like a spectre in their majestic room.
Her hands trembled as she undid the sequined sari from the party. She had worn it to bed, too tired to change last night. It fell to the floor in a heap of shimmering red chiffon.
She stepped under the shower, sighing in pleasure as the heat caressed the knotted muscles in her back. Taking in a shaky breath, she deeply inhaled the steam rising from the waters.
Main aaunga tumhare liye. Apne Aai Baba ke liye. Bas kuch din aur.
His words haunted her. He haunted her, rising from the dead last night.
Mandaar.
Fear, sorrow and guilt warred for supremacy in her body. She should have been happy he was alive. So, why was she so terrified?
Pallavi closed her eyes, letting the water mingle with her tears. Why was she fervently wishing him to be just a dream?
She had loved him once. She had been loved once. But it felt like a lifetime ago; when she had been Pallavi Deshmukh. When she had a marriage of love and respect. When she was a dutiful wife and daughter in law. When life was normal with regular problems of the common folk.
They had sat under the stars many nights, discussing their plans, their business, their future children. He had been her everything once upon a time. The only man she had known as lover, friend and partner.
The news of his death had incinerated her. Her happy little imperfect world had burned and taken her along with it. She had passed days, months, years… numb and broken, impervious to everything but the emptiness within.
But she had risen from the ashes one day. Like a phoenix, she had become a new Pallavi. Someone who feared nothing. Allowed no one to change her. Not the shadow of a widow’s garb, not the taunts of a conservative society, not the hardships of supporting a family in a man’s world.
She should have been happy to know he was alive. But she was terrified.
“Pallavi Rao!”
She jumped, hearing the bedroom door bang open. It had been locked. Her husband bellowed her name again, the tone deadly. She hadn’t heard this tenor in a long time. He was back so early?
“Pallavi! I swear, when I see you next…” He sounded positively murderous. She racked her mind for things she may have done to warrant the lock breaking. Unfortunately, the list was too long. She did love to annoy him often. He was such a sour puss.
His boots clicked on the floor, heading towards the washroom. Belatedly, it dawned on her that she had forgotten to lock this particular door.
“Main idhar hoon!” Pallavi yelped in panic, scrambling out of the shower. “Tum andar mat aana!”
She could hear irate footsteps getting closer, feel Raghav’s mounting rage through the wood. He banged on it sharply. “Get out of there. Right now!”
His tone raised her hackles. “Nahaa rahi hoon main,” she retorted, banging the frame once in retaliation. “Time lagega mujhe. Tum apni badtameezi akele mein practice karlo, mujhe baad mein dikha dena.”
All was quiet for a blessed moment.
“Tum abhi paanch minute mein bahar nahi aaya…” he growled finally. “…toh main andar aa jayega. Aur yeh tumhare liye theek nahi hoga.”
“Tum agar ek kadam bhi andar aaye…” she began out of habit, then paused. This was no time to rile him up further. Who knows what the madman was angry about now? He may just break this door down too just to make a point. Carpenters anyway bent over backwards to please their Anna. He gave them steady business throughout the year with these shenanigans.
“Main aa rahi hoon, Raghav. Have some patience, okay?”
He didn’t answer, just muttered some Telugu epithets under his breath.
Locking the door with a soft click, she leaned against it. He was back early! Her spirits soared, even as a trickle of trepidation raced down her spine. She could hear him prowling outside like a caged beast. What had him so agitated this morning? He couldn’t know about Mandaar already, could he? Unless, he was spying on her. She wouldn’t be surprised. The nerve this man had…
Muttering some choice words in her native language, she hurriedly finished her bath. When she turned towards the clothes rack, it was empty. Pallavi groaned. What was wrong with her?! She had forgotten to bring her clothes inside. Now what was she supposed to do?
She raked a hand through wet hair, her mind whirling for a solution. She could either request a furious Raghav to hand over her clothes or wear his huge white bathrobe lying in the cupboard. Ah, this decision at least was an easy one. There was no way she was going into this battle stark naked, entirely dependent on her husband’s chivalry. The man didn’t have a single gracious bone in his brutish body.
The moment the door opened, he turned towards her, looking ready to pounce. Pallavi rolled her eyes. “Mujhe ek chain ki saans lene doge? Subah subah shuru ho jaate ho.”
“Chain ka saans?” Raghav’s nostrils flared. “Mera chain barbad karke, tumko chain ka saans lena hai.” There was a frosty bite to his tone that stilled her. “And hello, are you wearing my robe?”
She ignored his question stoically, rubbing the towel against her hair. “Issue kya hai? Saaf saaf kyun nahi kehte?”
“Pallavi…” He stalked towards her, fury radiating off his tall frame. She backed away in surprise, her eyes huge like saucers. “I was supposed to be in a critical business meeting in Bangalore at this time. But where am I? With my hellion of a wife. Tumko pata hai kyun?” His tone was deceptively quiet, alarming her further. Raghav was always better when he was shouting his lungs off.
The towel dropped from her hand as she moved further back. Undeterred, he advanced, predatory eyes noting her nervousness.
He answered his own question after a pause. “Because my wife decided to walk out of an important party last night, without informing Farhad or the driver or any of the hundreds of servants I have in this bloody house!”
Her back touched the almirah. He halted a few steps from her, hands clenching and unclenching like they itched to be around her neck. “Maine tumko itne calls kiye. Tumereku pata hai kitne?” She shook her head. He was lapsing into the Hyderabadi Hindi he usually avoided speaking. This was bad.
“Raat bhar tumereku call kiya re maine! Main kya tumhara secretary hai jo poore time Madam ko phoneaan ghumata rahega?!”
“Haan, toh…” she uttered defensively. “Toh nahi karte na phoneaan.” She bit her tongue. “I mean, phone. Kisne bola mujhe call karte raho? Privacy naam ki bhi koi cheez hoti hai.” She knew her arguments were lame. Her eyes darted longingly towards the open door.
Raghav placed a hand near her head. “Don’t.” He placed the other one beside her waist, caging her in. She gaped at him, taken aback by the sudden proximity. “Don’t even think about running away. Mera baat abhi khatam nahi hua hai,” he warned, his gaze intense. “Why was your phone switched off? Why didn’t you answer the door when Farhad knocked? He just wanted to make sure you were okay. You knew he wouldn’t dare barge into Raghav Rao’s bedroom without permission and you stilldidn’t answer him. Tum ne hum sab ko dara diya kal. Tell me, Pallavi. What the f*ck were you thinking?!”
Pallavi swallowed, feeling sudden shame at causing this much worry. She had been so distraught last night that nothing had mattered anymore. As she stared into her husband’s glittering eyes, she knew he would accept nothing but the truth in answer.
“I met…Mandaar… last night,” she began hesitantly, watching a muscle tick in his jaw. “He sent me a note to meet at the back entrance. When I went there, he was waiting in the garden, looking like…before.” Her eyes clouded over. “Mujhe yakeen hi nahi ho raha tha…Mandaar…My husband. Itne saalon baad…zinda hai? Main-”
Raghav made an odd sound in his throat, halting her explanation. She looked at him in concern. Was he okay?
A short laugh escaped him, culminating into loud guffaws at her stupefied expression. She stared disbelievingly as he doubled over with laughter, shaking his head at her.
“Are you laughing at me? Are you seriously laughing at me?” She took a step towards him, unable to believe the audacity.
“You stupid stupid woman.” He wiped the tears of mirth out of his eyes. “Kitna peeya tha tumne party mein? Handle nahi hoti toh tum peeta kyun hai?”
“How dare you!” Her mouth fell open as he dissolved into laughter again. “Tumhe yeh mazak lag raha hai? Mera pati-“
“You are heights!” He clapped dramatically, enraging her further. “Did it ever occur to you to get your mind tested? Mandaar dikha tumko. Bada aaya. Madam, woh marr chuka hai. Unless he is a zombie risen from the grave, I-“
She pushed him hard, her eyes flashing with anger. He barely moved, bear of a man that he was. But it swiftly wiped all humour from his face. “Tum khud ko samajhte kya ho? I know what I saw and heard! My husband is alive!”
“Yes…” His voice lowered, dangerously soft like velvet over steel. “Your husband is alive, Pallavi Raghav Rao. He is very much alive.” He caught her by the front of the robe in a sudden swift motion. She gasped, lifting on tip toes as he pulled her up by the collar, his menacing face inches from hers. “Main hai tumhara pati. You are mywife. Tum agar bhool gaya hai toh yaad dila deta hoon.”
“Yeh kya badtameezi hai, Raghav?” she squeaked, putting a hand on his chest to get some distance. “Tumhara dimag kharab ho gaya hai?” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, trying to balance on her toes.
“Mera dimag?” He snorted, dropping his hands. She staggered back, glaring at him. “Dimag toh tumhara kharab hai. Itne saal baad tumko apna dead ex husband dikh raha hai. Apne brains ka treatment kyun nahi karati? Kuch zyada hi sochne laga hai.”
“You-“ She made to push him again, but he caught her hands.
“Mereko lagta hai tumko violence ka bahot shauk hai.” He pulled her struggling form against him, black eyes glittering with emotion. “Aur sacch sunne ka aadat nahi.” Raghav thrust both of her hands roughly behind her back, ignoring her protests. He held them there with just one of his own, much to her outrage.
“Did I leave you alone too long, biwi? Did you miss me?”
His voice turned husky, the seductive sound fatal to her senses. Heat roused to life between them, raising a deep flush up the neck to her pale cheeks. She stared mutinously up at him, soft breasts pressed against his muscled chest. This was the closest they had ever been to each other.
“I-I miss you? Never,” Pallavi answered weakly. She tugged at her captured hands ineffectually.
A devilish smirk tugged at his lips. He raised a finger, staring into the grey of her eyes. “Do you remember our wedding night?” The finger descended on her forehead, hovering…the touch fleeting like a butterfly’s wing. It travelled down her nose leisurely, tracing the contour. She sucked in a breath, watching his hooded gaze move down her face. “Tumko time chahiye tha uss raat… to be close to me. Aur maine woh tumko diya. Against my better judgement.”
His sinful finger reached her mouth, lightly caressing her parted lips. She trembled at the burn. His eyes met hers with devastating intensity. “I am rethinking that promise now.”
Before she could formulate a response, Raghav leaned towards her, stopping all thoughts, all words, all time. He placed a soft kiss at the corner of her lips; his warm mouth opening and closing over the sensitive skin. Her eyes closed of their volition. She felt his hand caress her jaw, thumb moving to trace her cheekbones.
“Raghav…” Pallavi whispered, leaning into his touch. She felt fragile in his arms, like she would shatter if he kept these ministrations up.
“I see you agree with me,” he murmured against her skin. His mouth traced hot kisses to her ear, sending sparks of desire shooting down her spine to her pulsing sex. She sighed as it closed over her lobe, the pleasure of it curling her toes.
A loud knock made them start. They broke away like guilty teenagers caught in a lustful haze. The spell broken, Pallavi picked up the towel from the floor, trying to look nonchalant.
Raghav strode to the door, cursing under his breath. Opening it an inch, he barked sharply at someone. “Yes. I am coming.”
Turning towards her, he gave a slow wicked smile. “This isn’t finished, Mrs. Rao. We have much left to discuss.”
Pallavi hid her embarrassed face in the towel.
* * *
“What is it, Farhad? Tumereku koi bhi sense of timing hai?” Raghav snarled the moment they reached his office. His mood had plummeted, leaving his delectable wife alone again. God, how he had missed her these past few days! The orchid-like smell of her hair, the softness of her skin, the fire in those gorgeous smoky eyes…
She had scared the living hell out of him by rushing off like that last night. When no one had found her for hours, he had booked the next flight home, nearly out of his mind with worry.
If only they hadn’t been interrupted today…
“I’m sorry, Anna,” his faithful man broke into his thoughts again. “Baat hi kuch aisi thi.”
Raghav sat down irritably, drumming his fingers on the desk. “Ab bolega? Ki invitation chahiye?”
“Anna, kal Vahini ke disappearance ke baad, I made some inquiries at the function hall. I have some grave news to tell you.” The man paused, looking like he was bracing for an explosion. “CCTV cameras check karne ke baad, we came to know that Vahini met a man last night in the garden. Jab mere bandon ne pata lagaya toh they found that he looked very much like Mandaar Deshmukh, her…her husband…who was…“
“Dead?” Raghav leaned forward, brows furrowed. He clasped his hands on the table, all business again. “You mean to say she actually met her ex-husband last night? The one who died years ago?”
Farhad looked uncomfortable, knowing how absurd that sounded. “We reconfirmed the identity, Anna. Aap check kar sakte hain agar koi doubt ho. Pata nahi kaise-“
“Get rid of him.”
The words were icy, spoken with cold finality. Farhad stared at him in shock. Raghav got to his feet, towering over him. “Nīku ardhamaindā?”
“Yes. Yes, I understand. But-but, Sir…Anna…” Farhad sputtered, quailing at the coldness in his boss’ eyes. “Vahini ko pata chalega toh-“
Raghav slammed his hands on the table, making him step back. His eyes flashed dark fire. “Tumhara Vahini pehle mera biwi hai. Raghav Rao ka biwi! Aur kisi ka koi haq nahi hai uss pe. Khaas kar uske zombie ex-husband ka. Saala zinda kaise hai woh?!”
His right-hand man opened and closed his mouth, genuine concern reflecting in his eyes. Raghav knew he loved Pallavi like a sister; called her Vahini from the beginning just so she would feel at home as a new bride. He would just as easily give his life for her as he would for his Anna.
Raghav softened his tone, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Pallavi ko toh main samjha dega. Usko lagega ki woh sab uska sapna tha. Par tu ek baat samajh le, Farhad.” He gave him a warning squeeze. “Woh Mandaar dobara mera biwi ke saamne nahi aana chahiye. I don’t care what you do. Khareed sakta hai toh khareed le. Woh bik sakta hai toh bech de. Dhamki se maanega toh aisa dara ki uska spirit bhi kaamp jaye. Aur agar na maane… toh kaat daal. I don’t f*cking care!”
“J-ji, Anna. Jaisa aap kaho.” Farhad stepped out quickly, knowing his boss’ volatile temper. Raghav whirled away, pouring himself a stiff drink.
There was a heavy silence in the room.
“Pallavi is mine.” Raghav whispered, a veil falling from his face. His eyes were agonized as they stared at the amber liquid. “I will destroy anyone who tries to take her away from me.”
* * *