Chapter 18
CHAPTER 18
DHEER
N ormally, a bridegroom had to put up with goodhearted ribbing from his friends and male relatives about his wedding night, but I was spared the embarrassment because the only male guests at my wedding were Diya’s father and brother. And they were far too busy glaring at me to rib me.
I knew they were both unhappy about this wedding, but they had to put up with it because Diya’s safety mattered more than anything else. I invited them to the den for a quick drink before I went upstairs, and that did the trick. Looking as if they wanted me to choke on my drink, they both took their leave and retreated to their bedrooms.
And I headed straight for the side door that led to the driveway. An armoured car was already waiting for me.
“Chhoti basti le chalo,” I told the chauffeur, referring to the small hamlet outside Trikhera.
That’s where our man, Manto Singh, was holed up.
I took the coordinates and description of his house from the personal investigator I’d hired to find him but asked the team to stay away from the location. Plausible deniability. They couldn’t testify in court about what they didn’t know.
The car drove up right into the middle of the small hamlet. The mukhiya came running out of his house to greet me, but I held up a hand and shook my head. I put a finger to my lips and nodded towards his house. Mukhiya Ji didn’t have to be told twice. He scuttled back into his house, as did the other villagers. They had a good sense of when to disappear because that instinct had kept them alive for years.
Soon, the village square was deserted. People shut their windows and bolted their doors as I walked towards the house. I paused in the doorway and sniffed a few times.
I could smell incense. Well, that was odd. Normally, people like Manto Singh drank themselves into a stupor when they were hiding because they couldn’t deal with the anxiety of the situation. Why was he burning agarbattis at night instead?
I walked into the house silently and found the first room empty. I explored some more and barked out a loud laugh when I found him. He was in the small kitchen, and he wasn’t alone. There was a pandit, who was performing a puja. The dead woman’s photograph was placed in the centre of the shrine and was surrounded by flowers and agarbattis.
Manto Singh stood up angrily.
“Kaun hai bey?” he yelled.
“Tera baap,” I said drily, taking my shoes off outside the room before I sauntered in. “No puja is going to save you from the wrath of your dead wife. Haven’t you told the villagers she’s dead? Is that why you’re performing her last rites at night?”
“It has nothing to do with them,” he retorted, looking scared.
I shook my head and tutted softly.
“Why so secretive, Manto Singh? Why wouldn’t you want to grieve your beloved wife openly?”
“Who the hell are you, motherfucker? Who sent you here?”
“Your wife sent me here because she misses you and wants to see you again. I’m here to arrange for that happy reunion. Pandit Ji, don’t mind me. Keep saying your prayers. Our friend here is going to need every one of them,” I said, clapping Manto Singh on the back and sitting down next to him.
I waited for the puja to be finished out of respect for the dead woman because she deserved her last rites. Even if they were being performed by her murdering husband.
As soon as the pandit gave us the aarti, I handed him five thousand bucks and asked him to pull the door shut behind him. He took the hint and scampered out of the room, leaving me alone with Manto Singh who was furious and terrified at the same time.
I smiled at him and before he could react to my shit-starting smile, I grabbed him by the back of his neck and slammed his face into the concrete floor right in front of his wife’s picture. I heard the crack of a bone and knew I had broken his nose.
“Do you know who I am?” I whispered in his ear.
He stared at me blankly for a minute with blood dripping from his face, and then he charged me like an angry bull, slamming me into the steel cupboard behind me. His massive fist came flying at my face, but I ducked out of the way, and he punched the steel cupboard. I grabbed him by the hand, twisted his arm behind him, and slammed his head into the cupboard a few times until there was a clear dent in the steel.
Manto Singh groaned and staggered on his feet as he turned around slowly.
He pointed a finger at me accusingly.
“The beast… you’re the beast,” he slurred.
I smiled at him and put an arm around his shoulder, enjoying the he flinched in fear at the touch.
“Come, let’s not fight. I’m really sorry for the loss of your wife. Now, if you don’t want to join her immediately, start talking,” I suggested politely.
“Sahab, he’ll kill me if I talk,” he whined.
“And I’ll kill you if you don’t. The difference is that I will give you such a painful death that even God won’t be able to put the pieces of your soul together in the afterlife. You need to pick now, Manto Singh. And I promise you that if you tell me what happened, I will keep you safe, no matter what. I won’t let him get to you. Word of the beast,” I swore.
He broke down weeping.
“She was a good woman, Sahab. I’m not performing these last rites out of fear that she will come back to haunt me. She would never do that. I’m doing this because I loved her,” he wailed.
“You had a funny way of showing your love,” I said with disgust.
“I was weak! Ayush Bhai is a jallaad. People call you a beast, but you’re nothing like him. His cruelty knows no bounds. And I was scared of what he’d do to my Sheela if she didn’t confess. That’s why I told her to throw herself on his mercy.”
“What happened? Tell me the whole thing from the start,” I ordered. “Every little detail.”
“Ayush Bhai put me in charge of his newest dhanda. Girls were being brought to us in big containers from the villages around here, and I was in charge of distribution,” he said, burying his hand in his face.
“Speak clearly,” I snapped.
I knew what he meant, but I wanted the full story.
“I was in charge of delivering them to brothels all over the country. Sheela found one container parked outside my office one day. We’d had a fight the previous night because she thought I was with another woman. She saw the container and thought I had made a love nest there, so she came back in the middle of the night, broke open the padlock in anger, and found the girls. As I said, she was a good woman. She freed them all. She even paid for them to travel to women’s shelters all around the state. A container full of women was cargo worth crores of rupees. Naturally, Ayush Bhai was livid when he saw the empty box.”
“So you threw your wife under the bus?”
“I thought he’d warn her never to do that again. I was willing to cover the losses even if it took me a lifetime, Sahab. I never thought he’d kill her like that. He didn’t even give me a chance to beg for her life,” wept Manto Singh.
I didn’t know what I felt when I stared at this broken man. Anger, disgust and contempt, for sure. But I also felt pity for a man who was doing his best to survive in a dirty world.
“What did he do with the body?”
“It’s buried in his backyard, near the lemon trees.”
“Alright, Manto Singh. You’re coming with me to the police station and putting all this on record. Will you testify against the man who killed your wife?”
He nodded slowly.
“I will, Sahab. Even if he kills me for it. You just find a way to keep me safe until I’ve spoken in court. I don’t care what happens to me after that,” he said.
I took him to the car and patched him up as best as I could before I drove him to police headquarters.
Commissioner Dhaliwal was waiting for me, as promised. He was very surprised to see me there.
“I came as soon as you called, Randheer. But I can’t imagine what could be so important that you had to see me so soon after your wedding! Did your wife kick you out of your palace already?” he teased.
“I’m just giving my wife a very strange wedding present, Commissioner Sahab,” I quipped before I told him the whole story.
“Bring her to the station tomorrow morning, Randheer. I’ll need her statement before I can apply for the warrant to search Goel House for the dead body.”
And now, I stood before Diya, waiting for her to turn away from me because who would want to be married to such a beast? My heart sank at the horror in her face as she stared at my bloodied knuckles. Before I could explain further, she marched into the bathroom and returned with my big first aid box.
‘Sit down,” she snarled, pushing me onto the bed.
I was silent as she cleaned and bandaged my hands with angry movements. Her anger was valid. I had left the house without a word to anyone. That was no way for a bridegroom to behave.
“Say something, Diya. Are you happy with your wedding present?”
“Of course, I am! But why did you need to make him talk? Why did you get involved? It’s the job of the police.”
“The local police station wasn’t even interested in investigating her disappearance. I had to go over their heads straight to the Police Commissioner. But for that, I needed concrete evidence, and the only person who could provide that evidence was the husband. My part is done. He has filed an FIR, and the police are investigating his wife’s murder. You will need to go to police HQ tomorrow and provide a statement about what you saw that night. Are you okay with that?”
“Yes, I am. And now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to bed,” she said, as she slammed the first aid box shut.
I barked out a laugh but straightened my face hastily when she glared at me.
“What’s so funny?”
“The fact that you’re determined to keep me at arm’s length when you want me as much as I want you,” I replied.
“I don’t want you,” she said, rising to her feet.
I shrugged.
“Keep telling yourself that, baby.”
She shot me one last glare and picking up a pair of silk pyjamas that was neatly folded on the foot of the bed, she headed to the big ensuite bathroom. I expected to hear the water running soon, but there was complete silence for almost ten minutes, and then I heard a little scream.
I rapped on the door sharply.
“Diya, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she called out, but she didn’t sound fine. I wondered if she was hurt.
“Please unlock the door,” I ordered.
“No! Go away!”
“Alright, then stand back. I’m coming in one way or the other,” I declared, as I prepared to break down the door.
“Ugh! You. Are. So. Annoying ,” she growled, as she unlocked the door and threw it open. She was only wearing her blouse and underskirt, while her saree lay on the floor in a heap.
“I live to serve. Now, what’s wrong? Are you… crying?”
“No!” she lied, dashing away the tears on her face. “I’m just irritated because I can’t get this bloody blouse off.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“The stupid darzi seems to have sewn me into it,” she snarled.
“Huh?”
“I can’t undo the hooks in the back of the blouse because it’s too tight for me to reach them, Dheer. And it’s…”
“Annoying?”
She let out a frustrated growl and I took a step back out of pure instinct.
“Do you want me to call someone?”
“No! They will think it’s weird. But maybe call Isha?”
I nodded and dialled my sister’s number as I tried not to stare at Diya’s beautiful curves that called to me like a siren. But Isha didn’t answer the phone.
“She’s not answering.”
“Well, then, you’ll just have to do it,” said Diya defeatedly.
I shot her a cocky grin.
“It’ll cost you,” I said softly.
She crossed her arms over her chest, but it just pushed her breasts up, making them look even more inviting.
“What?”
“Ten kisses,” I replied.
“You’re mad,” she scoffed.
“Anywhere I want.”
“And delusional. I will not kiss you again, Your Highness.”
“That’s alright, Rani Sa. I meant that I want to drop ten kisses on any part of your body that I like in exchange for my services as lady’s maid.”
“Don’t call me that,” she snapped, and I smiled again. At least, she hadn’t shot down my idea. If anything, she looked intrigued.
“But you are the Rani Sa of Trikhera. Now and forever. How about those kisses? I’ll make it easy for you, babe. I won’t kiss you on the lips until you beg me to.”
“Pfft! I will never beg you to kiss me, Your Highness,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“You’re on! Challenge accepted.”
“What? No! I didn’t mean…”
“Too late,” I said, turning her around to face the mirror.
She looked flushed with desire and furious as she met my eyes in the mirror.
“Fine,” she hissed. “Do your worst. I will never beg you to kiss me.”
I merely smiled as I pushed her braid out of the way and undid the hooks on her tight blouse deftly. She took a deep, relieved breath as soon as her blouse opened up.
“Thank you,” she muttered.
“The pleasure was all mine. Now, about those kisses?”
Diya shrugged and her blouse slipped off her shoulder, revealing a maroon lacy bra.
“Like I said, do your worst,” she invited.
I tugged at the gold tie that held her braid together and began to undo the tight braid.
“What… what are you doing?” she sputtered. “I didn’t say you could play with my hair. Drop your kisses and get out!”
“Well, you didn’t say I couldn’t play with your hair. Isn’t the tight braid giving you a headache? Let me help you with it,” I murmured into her ear, as my fingers worked to undo the long braid.
She shivered in response and bent her head a little. I undid the braid all the way to the top and paused to pull out the million hairpins holding the flowers braided into her hair. Her hair smelled like jasmine and roses, and it was intoxicating. I spread her hair out with my fingers and gently massaged Diya’s scalp. She groaned in response and slowly, her hunched shoulders relaxed under the ministrations of my fingers.
I pushed her hair out of the way and nuzzled the side of her neck, enjoying the shudders that wracked her. I wrapped my arms around her waist and drew her closer pressing my erection into her butt as I nibbled at the skin under her ear.
“That’s one,” she said shakily.
“Not even close,” I replied. “That wasn’t a kiss.”
“Well, get on with it, then,” she complained. “I want to go to bed.”
“Your wish is my command,” I murmured, picking her up and carrying her out of the bathroom.
I laid her on the bed gently and threw off my shoes before I joined her on the bed.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Getting my reward,” I replied, as I pulled off her little embroidered juttis.
Diya scooted back in the bed and sat up against the headboard as she stared at me wildly.
“Dheer,” she whispered worriedly.
“Hey, it’s okay. We don’t have to do this if you’re uncomfortable,” I told her, getting off the bed immediately.
I wanted Diya more than I’d ever wanted anything in life, but I wanted her willing. I needed her to want me just as much.
“I’m not… I’m not uncomfortable,” she muttered, not meeting my eyes. “It just doesn’t make sense to start something when I have no intention of turning this into a real marriage.”
My heart sank at the determination in her tone. I had been hoping that over time, and with love, I could overcome her resentment about the past, but now it seemed unlikely. Her hatred of me ran too deep, and I couldn’t complain about it because she had every right to hate me. Hell, I hated myself for the way I had ended things with her.
“Alright. If that’s the way you want it, let’s just go to bed,” I said defeatedly.
She nodded and went back to the bathroom. When she came out, I was already in bed and reading on my phone.
Diya raised her eyebrows at me.
“Where’s your shirt?”
“I sleep in boxers,” I replied, keeping my eyes on my phone.
“Hmph,” she muttered, punching a pillow on her side of the bed before she got in under the covers.
I put the phone aside and hit the button on the remote to turn off the lights. Moonlight streamed through the huge leaded glass windows, bathing the room in a cool, romantic glow. A pity it was wasted on us.
I closed my eyes but sleep evaded me. I was far too aware of Diya lying next to me. The flowery smell of her hair drew me to her and I turned on the side to face away from her. She wasn’t asleep either, tossing and turning a few times until she kicked me in the leg.
I sat up and glared down at her.
“Problem?” I asked sarcastically.
Diya turned to lie on her back and bit her lip as she stared up at me. She took a deep breath and let it out audibly.
“Suppose… suppose one were to start something without any intention of it lasting… just suppose… well, how would one go about it?”
It took me a minute to unravel that convoluted statement, but a slow smile spread over my face when I understood what she meant.
“Umm, I guess, one could start with those kisses you owe me and see how it goes,” I replied.
“Fine! But it means nothing. This is still a temporary marriage,” she said defiantly.
It wasn’t, but I wasn’t going to tell her that now. All I knew was that once she was mine, there was no way I could let her go.
“If you say so,” I murmured, reaching out to spread her hair over the pillow.
She held my eyes as I pulled the covers off her slowly and undid the buttons on her pyjama top. There were far too many of them, I decided. It was the most nun-like garment I had ever seen and I resolved to burn it tomorrow morning.
“Are you very attached to these PJs?” I asked impatiently.
“No. My mother selected it for me from the clothes in your attic because there was no time to buy new ones.”
“Good to know,” I replied, as I grabbed the lapels and ripped them apart. The buttons flew off the bed and Diya squealed in surprise.
I stared in awe at the sheer perfection of her body. Her nipples beaded as I stared at her, inviting me to suck on them. I ran my thumb over them as I leaned forward to nibble on the side of her breasts, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.
My stubble grazed the skin of her abdomen when I slid downwards slowly and Diya yelped as she realised where I was headed. I slid the pants down her hips and pulled them off slowly. She wore tiny lace briefs that just begged to be ripped off.
I tore them off and she rolled her eyes at me.
“I did like those,” she pointed out mildly.
“I’ll buy you more,” I promised with a grin, as I spread her legs apart and settled down between them. “Start counting, baby.”
She inhaled sharply when I rubbed my stubble against the delicate skin of her inner thighs. I nibbled my way to her core, enjoying the way she squirmed in place. I paused to place her feet around my shoulders and raised her hips before I pressed a soft kiss on her mound.
“That’s one,” I announced. “You’ll have to count the rest because I’m going to be busy for a while.”
She dug her heels into my shoulders and I pinched her butt in response.
“I hate you,” yelped Diya, clutching my head to her.
In reply, I pressed two little kisses to her nether lips, enjoying the way she was already sopping wet. Yep, she wanted me as much as I wanted her.
“That’s three,” she said shakily.
I kissed my way up to her clit, lifting the skin to get at the hard little nub. Diya moaned as I pressed nibbly little kisses on it. At this point, both of us lost count and I held her firmly by the hips as I began to lick her in earnest.