Chapter - 4
Sairaj
Chapter-4
Sairaj
The entire ride home is tense, Atharva burning holes into the side of my face, his anger palpable.
"What?" I snap.
"That was uncalled for."
"Uncalled for?" I let out a dry laugh. "He called her a bitch. A whore." My grip tightens on the steering wheel. "She's going to be my wife. Nobody disrespects her." I glance at him. "And he had it coming. Don't pretend you didn't know he's been going behind our backs, dealing with the Bratva."
"Try explaining that to Maa," he mutters.
The thought already makes me rub my hand against the nape of my neck.
"She's not our enemy, Sairaj," Atharva tries to reason, his voice firm but cautious.
"She's the reason it happened," I snap, my patience thinning.
"And she will suffer. If she has to live with the loathing of having my name, then so be it."
"You're trading your life for that," he says, his gaze heavy with warning.
I let out a humorless chuckle. "I was never the one to be in love, brother. We both know it. And I have enough passion for the both of us-fueled by my hate for her."
Atharva shakes his head. "Not everyone has love in their destinies, brother. You got lucky with Noor Bhabhi", I state.
"Well, I wouldn't put it like that," he muses, a rare softness in his voice. "But yes, I do love her."
I smirk. It's too easy to distract him with her name.
"What are you gonna tell Maa?" he asks, his tone edged with concern.
"Exactly what happened."
Silence.
"She will kill you."
"Will she?" I smile at my brother, amusement lacing my voice. He just shakes his head. Again.
As we circle the fountain near the entrance of the house, Maa awaits me. She knows.
The moment I stand in front of her-slap.
It burns. Mrs. Suryavanshi ain't for the weak.
"He deserved it, Maa," I say, my voice firm.
Before she can respond, my Bua comes running, rage twisting her features. "I will never forgive you!" she shrieks, lunging at me.
Vivaan-her other son, the one who knows his brother was an asshole, that he deserved it-nods at me and pulls her back.
"He called my wife a whore, Mother," I say, my voice unwavering. "I wouldn't take that-not even in my dreams. He dared to do that for real."
Moments later, the body came wrapped from the Agnihotri house, Viraj handles it, preparing for the cremation ceremony.
My mother walks back in quietly-silent treatment. I'm sure it'll go on for months now. I'm used to it. Still, I kiss her anyway.
"How's she?" Maa asks Atharva.
"Beautiful. She hates your son," my brother replies.
"Well, he deserves it," she says, throwing me a pointed look. I just sink into the couch in the hall, unbothered.
"Did she agree?" she asks.
I shoot my brother a stern look.
He just nods at her.
She doesn't have a say in this. She will have to marry me. But my mother doesn't have to know that.
My father walks in. The entire room shifts. My bua(aunt) cries, clutching onto him.
"Sairaj. In my office. Now," he says, walking in without another glance.
I sigh and follow.
"You acted on impulse," he states the moment I step inside.
"It was necessary," I reply.
"It was reckless."
"Reasonable, Father. Would you take any insult against your wife? You would've shoved a gun down his throat before he even got the chance to finish his sentence. I was generous enough to give him a chance to shut his mouth. That was reason enough for him to die." My jaw ticks, anger still rushing through my veins.
I lean back in my chair, exhaling slowly. My mother walks in, and my father offers her a small, apologetic smile. Is he actually sorry? Not really. He knows he had it coming the moment he opened his useless mouth.
"We have to go to your bahu's house next week" he says, motioning for her to sit across from him. "You may start the preparations after the cremation ceremony."
She gives me a pointed look.
"He wasn't a trustworthy man, Shrishti," my father says.
"He was family." My mother's voice is firm, but there's no fire in it.
"Not everyone who shares our blood is worth keeping around," he replies simply.
She doesn't argue, just sighs. "Stay on your best behavior until the wedding." Warning me.
I only smile, nodding before heading to my room.
Late at night, my phone rings. It's the gardener.
"A girl is trying to tip me off," he says hesitantly.
That girl is my girl.
"Let her in," I instruct, my lips curling in amusement. "And tell the guards to ignore her."
I watch her through the security feed, silent as she moves, zooming in on her face, fear? not even close. Fierce determination, she's come with a mission.
She climbs up to my room through the side wall, her movements quick, calculated. She doesn't hesitate.
Bold. Stubborn. Reckless.
It's almost hot.
She slips inside and heads straight for my files, fingers skimming through them, looking for something-anything-that will set her free.
Poor little bird.
She really thinks she'll find a way out.
She should have never come here.
She should have never tried to play this game with me.
I should have let her dig through whatever shit she thought she'd find and let her walk out just as she came.
One
Two
Three
Moments pass and i find myself walking out of the surveilence room, to her, to do what? I would think later.
I walk into the room, silent, deliberate, leaning against the door frame, she doesn't notice, too busy looking for a way out.
I take slow steps towards her, standing right behind her. She still has no clue.
Her dark ponytail sways as she stands next to the shelves, flipping through files, desperate to find a way out. Desperate to beat me. My fingers itch to wrap my fist around her pony tail, tug at it, just to see her react.
But I don't.
Instead, I reach forward, fingers brushing her hair, tucking a loose strand behind her ear. And i whisper...
"Mujhe dhoond rahi ho, biwi?"
She freezes.
And in the next second, she spins, a knife flashing between us, its tip pressing against my throat.
I should be angry. I should be furious at her audacity.
But I'm not.
I smirk. I let her hold it there. She doesn't move. She's waiting for me to react, waiting for me to flinch.I don't. Instead, I grasp the blade with my bare hand, the steel biting into my skin, blood dripping onto the floor.
Her lips part. Her fingers tighten around the hilt, but she doesn't push deeper.
"I will not marry you," she says, her voice controlled. But there's a crack in it.
I hear it.
"Toh mat karo shaadi," I murmur, the smirk never leaving my face.
A flicker of frustration flashes through her eyes.
She twists the knife harder, pushing against my palm, but I still don't budge.
"You're too brave for your own good, little bird," I tell her. Her brows raise ever so slightly. Her jaw clenches.
"Khud pinjre mein aa gayi ho tum."
You walked into your own cage. And now, you'll never leave.
I take the knife from her, slow, measured. Testing her. She lets me. But the second I place it on the side table, she moves.
She turns-ready to run.
I catch her wrist before she can.
And then,I lace my fingers through hers.
I let my blood smear onto her skin, painting her in me.
She freezes.
"Our gardener is loyal,"I whisper, watching the fire in her eyes morph into a storm. She stiffens, her entire body coiling like a snake ready to strike.
That's when I see it. The realization slams into her with brutal force. She was played. She was let in. By me.
"You-" Her voice is sharp, but it cuts off as her fury snaps. She swings before she thinks, the cold metal of her knuckle duster aiming straight for my face. Sharp. Fast. Too predictable. She came prepared though.
I catch her wrist mid-air, twisting it effortlessly and pulling her against me. Her back collides with my chest, and just like that, she's trapped. Her breath comes in short, angry bursts, her pulse hammering against my grip.
"We need to work on your attacks, little bird,"I murmur, my lips brushing against her ear. I feel the way she shivers, a reaction so fleeting she tries to mask it with more rage. But I feel it. I fucking feel it.
My grip tightens as I take in her scent-sandalwood, lilies and storm. Something so familiar, so mine, it infuriates me. She moves again, smartly using my hold against me. Then, she jumps, twisting midair with an agility that almost makes me grin. Almost. She lands behind me, her boot slamming into the back of my knee.
I catch myself before I hit the ground, but she's faster. The cool press of steel kisses my throat-her knife. Again. Her pulse is erratic, but her hands remain steady. Impressive.
"You've grown to be hot, little bird." The words slip out before I can stop them, and her fingers tighten around the hilt. Frustration burns in her eyes, dark and consuming.
"Not a word,"she seethes. "Why me? Why can't you just settle for a basic deal? Why a marriage?"
I chuckle, a low, dark sound that makes her fingers twitch. "Because what I want is for you to suffer with the thought of bearing my name for the rest of your life."
And then, I move. In one swift motion, I flip her over, slamming her onto the mattress and caging her beneath me. Her breath stutters, her body pinned under mine. Enough play time little bird.
She stares up at me, her chest rising and falling, her lips slightly parted. And I see it-the raw hatred flickering in her gaze. She hates this. Hates that I'm above her. Hates that she let me get here. Hates that for just a second, her body betrayed her.
Her eyes dart to the little ring, tied in a silver chain around my neck, dangling between us, bracing the skin near her cleavage. There's some sort of recognition.
Slowly, I pull back, releasing her wrists. Then, I offer her a hand. She slaps it away without hesitation.
"Feisty," I smirk, rising to my full height. I take a step forward. She steps back.
"Next time you wanna desperately see me, use the front door, wife. This is your own house now."* My voice is mocking, letting the words settle between us. Letting her understand the weight of them.
"Mai nahi chahta meri jaan ko koi takleef ho."
The moment the words leave my lips, she bristles, hands curling into fists. She almost slaps me. Almost.
I catch her wrist mid-air, my grip firm but not forceful. Slowly-deliberately-I bring it to my lips. Then, I press a kiss there.
Her entire body goes rigid. Heat rushes up her spine, and I don't miss the way she struggles to control it. I watch everything-memorize everything. Then, just as quickly, she yanks her hand away, her teeth grinding as her chest heaves with barely controlled rage.
She storms toward the balcony, her steps sharp and quick.
I chuckle. "You tryna die, wife?"
She turns, her eyes blazing. "Well, death is better than marrying you, asshole."
My smirk grows. "Death will be too easy a punishment for you, sweetheart."
The word punishment lingers between us, heavy in the air. I watch as she storms out, her steps desperate, almost reckless.
"Use the door. There won't be anyone out there."
I watch her storm away, the echo of her footsteps fading into the night. My fingers still tingle from where they had gripped her wrist, her warmth lingering like an afterthought.
She fights well. But not well enough.
A smirk tugs at my lips.
She came looking for a way out. Instead, she walked right into my hands.
Perfect.
I turn, wiping the blood from my palm onto my shirt before heading toward the bar in the corner of my room. The ice clinks against the glass as I pour myself a drink, the amber liquid swirling under the dim lighting.
Amber.
How fitting.
I take a slow sip, replaying the fire in her eyes, the sharp edge in her voice. She wants to kill me.
I slip under the sheets, but sleep is nowhere close. Her scent-lilies..fucking lilies-clings to the air, lingering around me like an unshakable presence. It weaves through my lungs, curls around my thoughts, seeps into my very skin.
I fucking hate it.
The sharp wail of the fire alarm shatters the silence. My body moves before my mind catches up, instincts sharper than thought.
As I reach the stairs, a blast rips through the night.
The ground trembles beneath my feet. A roar of fire ignites outside.
I stop. My grip tightens on the banister.
Through the open doors, a fire rages.
Flames claw at the sky, twisting, writhing. Heat pulses through the night air, licking at the edges of the mansion.
And then-her.
She stands by the steel gates, her dark silhouette still, watchful.
My eyes drag from her-slow, knowing-before shifting to what burns. I already know before looking.
My Bentley.
The car is engulfed in flames, the explosion tearing through metal and glass, reducing it to a blazing wreck.
A slow smirk tugs at my lips.
Touche, little bird.
The pulse at my jaw settles. The heat? Worth it. Touching her. Feeling her heartbeat stutter under my grip. Watching her react to me.
Kabir's voice cuts through the crackling flames, sharp with frustration. "So you're telling me no one noticed anyone coming in?"
The guards shift uncomfortably.
I step forward, the flickering light paintingshadows over my face. My gaze lingers on the destruction before shifting to my brother. A glint of something dark and amused flashes in my eyes.
"This was my girl's doing."
A piece of paper, edges charred, flutters between the embers. I pluck it from the ground, scanning the words scrawled in furious, familiar handwriting.
You will regret this, husband, as much as I will. Every second of your life. Hope you like our engagement gift.
My smirk widens.
"Husband."
A single word. Unwilling, bitter acceptance bleeding through ink.
I fold the note, slipping it into my pocket.
"You have found your match", Atharva muses and heads back in to see if any of the ladies are walking into the scene and to calm them down.
Beside me, Kabir scoffs. "You've got some weird turn-ons, bhai." His gaze flickers between me and the burning wreckage, somewhere between disgust and amusement.
"At least she's coming with a blast. I think I like her," he adds, grinning.
I inhale deeply, the scent of burning gasoline thick in the air. My gaze locks onto her.
Amber is still standing by the gate. Watching me.
A storm brews low in my chest.
She doesn't belong here. She will never belong here.
But no matter how much she fights, no matter how much she burns her way through my life- no matter the scars she leaves on her way, she will never be free of me.
She is trapped.
My jaw tightens. My fists clench.
She just doesn't know it yet.
Author's note:
Engaged, chapter-5
Coming soon...
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