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Unable to contain my emotions, I make my way out.
“When Ayaan returns, tell him not to interfere in my family matters. I’ll handle them myself,” I add before leaving the room and the Shergill Mansion.
Friends or not, Kailash has directed me toward my next course of action. I’ll be indebted to him, but this had nothing to do with us reconciling. I doubt that kind of reunion is possible. He and I have permanently gone our separate ways, and trying to bridge the gap to align with each other’s ideologies seems like a challenging task.
CHAPTER 16
AYAAN
A week Later
The city lights blur outside the car window as we drive through the night toward a private event organised by the political leaders of Pratap Walia’s NEP party. I’d rather avoid attending it, but being Pratap Walia’s son-in-law, I am now socially obliged to show my family’s presence at that party. The death of my spy agent Manish at The Roost still lingers in my mind, casting a shadow over tonight’s proceedings. He was shot dead only because he helped me that night at the club. He died because of me. And once again, the man who is my biological father is responsible for it. I don’t care who pulled the trigger because I know the orders had come from Tej Khurana only. He controls every action and every deal that happens within his syndicate. How many more lives of the people dear to me will he take? Mohan, Dad’s personal driver from over a decade, also lost his life during that fateful accident at Mahabalipur, another one of Tej Khurana’s doing, and now Manish. This had to stop.
On the day we learned about Manish’s death, a week ago, a threatening message from Raghav was waiting on my phone.
‘By interfering in my business affairs at ‘The Roost’, especially involving the CBI, you have made this game even more personal. Brace yourself for my retaliation. I assure you, the wait won’t be long.
Raghav.’
I had just begun to sympathise with Raghav, but the news of Manish's death followed by Raghav's threatening message on my phone, wiped out those feelings forever. Since then, the security measures for both families have been heightened. This is why Krish is unhappy with both families attending tonight’s party, where he and his team have limited control over the security arrangements. Though Krish is accompanying us with his team, he is visibly displeased. Tonight, his duty to protect us clashes with the apprehension of stepping into a political arena where dangers may be lurking in the shadows. The unknown threat posed by the notorious Bat Syndicate, masterminded by my biological father, looms over our families. With the legacy of enmity between Tej Khurana, my adopted father Kailash and Pratap Walia, we have to be vigilant. While Meher, Krish, Trisha and me are in one car, Dad and Bhaskar Uncle are in the other with the guards.
“The Walia family is on its way and will be at the party in a few minutes,” Krish informs, concluding the phone call. “We’re all heading back within two hours. We can’t afford to stay at this party longer than that. Vishnu has confirmed the same.”
I have no intention of staying beyond that timeframe, so I give him a brisk nod.
“The present chief minister of the state, Amit Rajvanshi, is part of the guest list for the party,” Krish mentions. “Extra security personnel will be deployed for his safety, and a stringent security protocol is enforced within a 2-mile radius of the party venue.”
Considering Amitji is also a part of the NEP political party, this kind of stringent security is expected upon his presence here. If Pratap Walia emerges victorious in the elections, he will be contesting for the next CM position as Amitji is resigning soon. All the businessmen and socialites who have funded the NEP party for the upcoming elections are also on the guest list. In short, this gathering is evolving into quite an event with a retro theme, featuring politicians and influential businessmen.
My fingers fiddle with the Black King chess piece in my hands, my thoughts clouding with an internal storm when I feel a soft touch as Meher entwines her fingers with mine, pressing them together. In my closed fist, the king chess piece becomes my symbolic anchor, grounding me in the moment. She kisses my shoulder over my suit, a gesture of reassurance, her silent understanding and gratefulness to accept the party invitation piercing through my anger.
I turn to her, managing a smile, though turmoil rages beneath the surface. I know my queen sees through the façade; she always does. Her gaze catches mine, and I know she reads the conflict etched across my face.
“Don’t overthink,” she murmurs, her hand gently caressing my arm. “It’s just a casual party.”
“Even a casual party poses a risk until we understand how Raghav plans to retaliate,” I say with a sigh. “If it were up to me, I wouldn’t let anyone from the two families step out of their homes until we resolve this situation.”
“You can’t do that. We can’t stay confined in our homes out of fear that someone will try to harm us. It’s not a practical solution, and it would only give our enemies an advantage because that’s precisely what they want – to intimidate us, Ayaan.”
I know she’s right. I don’t want Raghav or Tej Khurana to believe they’ve successfully scared us off with their return and their true identities. However, tonight, my instincts tell me that something is off. Those who know me are aware that my intuitions are rarely wrong, heightening my concern. I don’t want any harm to befall us at this party, where both families are exposed to threats beyond our control.
Meher’s touch on my cheek interrupts my thoughts, and I turn to meet her gaze.
“I understand that recent events have taken a toll on you, Ayaan. I’m not suggesting you’re overthinking, but the stress is evident. Consider tonight’s party as an opportunity to relax and uplift your mood. Just for a while, put aside those thoughts, please. If not for yourself, do it for your dad. Seeing you like this worries him, and you’re aware of it. Our fathers would be unhappy and even more stressed if they witnessed us in such a state. We owe it to them, if not to ourselves. Think about them. They are already shaken by Tej Khurana’s return.”
Meher is right. I may not be overthinking, but I can, at the very least, project an image of control before our fathers to prevent them from further stress. I agree with her before raising our entwined hands and kissing her fingers.
Amid everything, I forgot to appreciate my stunning queen tonight. Meher exudes timeless elegance in her retro saree and hairdo. The orange-coloured designer saree is meticulously draped in a classic retro fashion, accentuating her graceful silhouette. Seeing her reminds me of Dad’s favourite Bollywood heroine, Mumtaz, the epitome of charm and grace. The subtle glint of her jewellery and accessories enhances the overall appeal without overpowering its traditional charm. Her hair, meticulously styled into a tight bun, shows off her elegant neck, tempting me to place a series of kisses there. With two strands delicately framing the sides of her face, Meher effortlessly captures the essence of vintage charm, presenting a vision that transcends eras.
When her eyes lock with my hungry gaze, she knows what’s coming next. Her focus shifts to my lips, and in a heartbeat, our mouths unite in a kiss. The taste of her always delightful lips intensifies my desire for her. Despite the escalating need, I draw back, gently caressing her cheek with my thumb.
“The most potent remedy for my overthinking and stress: your intoxicating kisses!” I whisper.
A coy smile graces Meher’s lips as she leans in for more. This time, I don’t care if we are sitting in the backseat of a car or where we are headed. I scoop her face in my hands and kiss her with hunger until a soft moan escapes her lips. I don’t care if Krish and Trisha know what we are up to in the backseat. I don’t mind being caught by them kissing my wife. We might have taken our passion further if not for Krish clearing his throat and quipping.
“Guys, you know I don’t mind what you are doing in the backseat, but we have another lady here amongst us.”
Wrenching my lips away from Meher’s, I look at Krish, who winks at me from the rearview mirror. Before I can respond, Trisha does.
