20. Mayukhi
TWENTY
Mayukhi
Mayukhi slipped on her sunglasses, bundled her hair into a messy ponytail, cast a cursory glance at her short, white chikankari kurta and blue jeans and decided it would have to do for the day. Her hangover wouldn’t tolerate anything else. She grabbed a bottle of water from the kitchen and almost made her escape when she ran into her parents having breakfast in the hall.
“Yukhi, I want to talk to you.” Her father’s curt voice stopped her from skirting them and making for the door.
She sighed and walked back to where they sat. “Yes?”
“I don’t want that fellow’s horrible influence to ruin you,” her father said, gesturing to her to take a seat. “You must be careful.”
“That fellow?” she asked, not taking the seat he was pointing to. “You mean your future son-in-law? The one you’re forcing me to marry?”
Her mother’s normally expressionless face looked mildly disturbed. “Don’t be like that, Yukhi. Your father is doing his best to get you out of this. He’s talking to his lawyers and accountants every day. He missed lunch also yesterday because he was in a meeting with them.”
Mayukhi unscrewed the cap of her bottle and took a sip of water. Her head was pounding and her mouth felt like a frog had died in it.
“It doesn’t matter,” she murmured. “I can handle myself.”
“Handle yourself?” Her father looked apoplectic. “Was yesterday an example of how you handle yourself when you’re with him?”
Mayukhi pressed a thumb to her throbbing temple. “Yesterday was not on him, Baba. He was the good guy who brought me home.”
“Please,” her father spat out. “He must have spiked your drink.”
Mayukhi rolled her eyes, making the pain in her head worse. “Why would he do that? He’s already gotten what he wanted.”
“Because filth always wants to coat everyone with more filth.”
The venom in her father’s voice startled her. Mayukhi slipped her sunglasses off and looked at him. “That’s a bit excessive,” she said coolly.
Her father shook his head. “You don’t know his father, Yukhi. And the apple never falls far from the tree.”
A strange surge of protectiveness rose in Mayukhi but she tamped it down. Ishaan didn’t need her protection. He was the bogeyman they were struggling to escape. A bogeyman she was also in cahoots with. The complications of her current situation boggled her mind.
Before she could argue any further with her father, her phone rang. She glanced at it and saw Ashish’s number flashing.
“I have to take this,” she murmured and walked away from the dining table.
“Remember what I said!” her father called out from behind her and she raised a hand in acknowledgement.
“What’s up?” She called Ashish back the minute she exited the elevator, wincing as the sunlight hurt her eyes. She slipped the sunglasses perched on her head over her eyes even as Ashish’s slimy voice ripped through her hangover.
“Have you heard anything?” he asked without preamble.
“All I’ve heard is that Varun abused Dhrithi and she wasn’t the cause of the car crash. Varun was. He crashed his car into hers.”
A pause and then… “Lies,” he said but his voice was so casual and absent of emotion that Mayukhi stopped walking, her antenna going up. “Anything else?” he asked.
“Not at the moment.” She waited a beat before asking, “What should I have heard?”
“Nothing,” he said immediately. “Just keep your ears open and pay attention.”
“Hey Ashish,” she drawled.
“What?” he muttered, sounding very put upon.
“I’m doing you guys a fucking favour. Say please.”
Mayukhi had spent all her life around rich, entitled men. She knew exactly the buttons to push to keep them in line. Except, none of it worked on Ishaan. When she pushed his buttons, he pushed hers right back. She had a vague memory of some shit going down last night too, but she wasn’t sure what.
“Please,” Ashish growled.
“Sure, no problem,” she replied breezily before disconnecting so he couldn’t get in another word.
Mayukhi sighed and pocketed her phone. She had to catch a cab or an auto and get to the bar so she could recover her car. She really hoped it was intact and hadn’t been damaged or stolen. If she’s been slightly less high, she could have-
She came to an abrupt halt in the foyer of her building. Her red Mini Cooper was parked right in front of the building, in the visitor’s slot. Mayukhi blinked but the mirage of her car stayed right where it was.
“Saab leke aaye.” Her security guard walked up to her with a toothy grin. “Kal raat ko.”
Irritation mingled with gratitude at his thoughtfulness. It would have taken him several extra trips but he’d still brought her car back. For her.
Why?
The grace he’d shown despite being absolutely furious with her had her feeling a little ashamed. She slipped into her car and drove out of the building, automatically heading for his. Ishaan didn’t live too far from her home but Mumbai traffic made it impossible to get there in the expected half an hour. By the time, she did reach his home, she was flustered and irritated, road rage riding her hard.
She walked into the apartment and took the elevator to his penthouse. She leaned on the doorbell but the door didn’t open. He wasn’t home? Of course, he wasn’t home. It was a workday. He was probably at the office. Her hangover was making it impossible to think.
Surprised at the depth of her disappointment at not seeing him, she punched the button for the elevator. The doors slid open and she came face to face with Dhrithi who was carrying a covered casserole.
“Hi,” Dhrithi said, smiling. “Here to see Ishaan? He’s at work but the guys will be home any minute now for lunch.”
“Oh!” Mayukhi fidgeted with the hem of her kurta. “I should probably get to work.”
“Stay no?” Dhrithi input the code for Ishaan’s door and led the way in. After a moment’s hesitation, Mayukhi followed. “All three of them are due home for lunch. Hence this.” Dhrithi held the casserole up like it was evidence at a crime scene. “Chicken lasagna. There’s enough for everyone. Eat and go?”
Before Mayukhi could refuse and make her hasty exit, the door opened and the guys walked in, arguing loudly.
“I know you fucking took it!” Ishaan looked livid, the vein in his temple popping.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Amay said placidly, walking over to kiss Dhrithi on her cheek. “Hi Yukhi,” he said casually as he crossed her, the nickname from his mouth causing a weird warmth to spread through her.
“H-hi,” she stuttered as Dhrithi giggled behind her. Virat nodded at her and she nodded back, feeling awkward and out of place.
Ishaan opened the fridge and pulled out a huge jug full of a vile looking green juice. He poured some into five glasses before setting it on a tray and putting it on the dining table. He threw himself into a chair next to where she was standing, handing her a glass. Mayukhi looked at it doubtfully. She glanced around and noticed nobody else was touching their glass either.
“It’s good for you,” he snarled. “Ask the bloody thieving doctor over there.”
The bloody thieving doctor mouthed the words kale and spinach smoothie at her. She took a doubtful sip. It was the most vile tasting concoction she’d ever had the misfortune to taste. But one look at Ishaan’s intense stare and she gave him a weak smile with an even weaker thumbs up.
The others were fighting smiles, even Virat looked to be suppressing a grin.
“Why are you here, Kraken?” Ishaan asked, his long, lean body sprawled in that seat in unconscious challenge.
“I-“ She wanted to thank him for the car but the words wouldn’t come out in the presence of his friend’s interested gazes.
“Ashish called me,” she said instead. The mood in the room changed in a heartbeat, all the lighthearted grumbling disappearing like she’d flipped a switch.
“And?” Ishaan asked, leaning forward.
“He seems to think that you guys have some information about them. He kept probing to see if I’d heard anything.”
“Does he now?” Virat murmured. “And what information would that be?”
“I don’t know. He asked me if I’d heard anything. I said nothing other than the fact that Varun was an abusive shit.”
Mayukhi glanced from one impassive face to another. “Nothing? You guys are going to give me nothing?”
Nobody answered. Right, of course, she thought, a bitter taste flooding her mouth. They didn’t trust her. She wasn’t part of their precious inner circle. She was just a convenient tool at their disposal.
Well, fuck it! She didn’t want to be a part of their inner circle. She was fine being an island. She didn’t need anybody. She didn’t want anybody. She didn’t-
“Nisha Kohli.” Ishaan’s voice cut through the silence.
“Ish.” Virat groaned.
“Need to know, right?” Ishaan shot back. “She needs to know. How is she going to help otherwise?”
“Ish-“ Amay started to speak but Dhrithi stopped him with a hand on his chest.
“Ishaan’s right,” she said. “Mayukhi deserves to know everything.”
“Everything? What is everything?” Mayukhi’s heart started a rapid drumbeat, the sound a dull echo in her ears.
“We don’t know if we can trust her.” Virat’s low words were a scalpel to her pride. Forever on the outside, she thought. Always looking in. She hadn’t known until this moment how badly she wanted to be accepted by them.
“I do.” Ishaan rose from his chair and came to stand beside her, aligning himself with her. “I trust her.”
I trust her.
The words seemed to reverberate through the room, shock on everyone’s faces except for Dhrithi who had the biggest smile splitting hers.
“I trust Yukhi too,” she said softly.
Amay glanced at Virat before shrugging. “I guess we have to.”
Well, that was a ringing endorsement.
But it was Virat she watched, that calm exterior not fooling her for a second. She had a feeling the day Virat Jha’s mask came off, was the day the whole world took cover. When he spoke, though, the only thing he said was, “We can talk after lunch.”
Mayukhi accepted the plate of lasagna Amay handed her, catching the fork before it fell off the edge. She followed Virat on to the large balcony that extended out from the living room. Huge French doors framed the wall between the living area and what was essentially a deck attached to it.
Ishaan’s home was a dream come true, an architectural magazine’s centerspread. It still didn’t fit in her head with the man she knew, or maybe, she amended, the man she thought she knew.
She’d just taken her place in a beanbag in the corner when Virat came through with glasses of water for everyone. He set the tray down on the table in the centre of the ridiculously soft shag pile rug. Mayukhi had already slipped her heels off and curled her toes into it, allowing the comfort of its exquisite softness to envelop her aching feet. She could feel the aftermath of her drinking binge from the previous day seeping into her bones.
Ishaan landed on the rug by her feet, his back hitting the bottom of her bean bag as he dug into his lasagna, a bad-tempered scowl on his face.
“What bug crawled up your ass?” she murmured, kicking him gently in the ribs with her foot.
He muttered something that sounded an awful lot like ‘bloody thieves’ but she wasn’t sure if she’d heard him right.
“Whom?” she asked. “Naveen and gang? Is that what they’re doing? Stealing stuff?”
“My own bloody friends,” he snapped, his voice low and vengeful.
“Your friends are thieves?” Mayukhi was a bit taken aback. It was a bit rich for a group of thieves to take some time to decide if they trust her or not.
“Yes.” He shoved his fork into his lasagna with a level of violence that felt wholly inappropriate. “You see that shelf in the glass cabinet?” He pointed through the glass doors to a fancy looking cabinet in the living room.
“Uh huh.” Mayukhi took a sip of water.
“Do you know what’s in there?”
Mayukhi stared at the cabinet and then at the top of Ishaan’s head. “Nothing?” she ventured cautiously.
“Yes, nothing!” Ishaan hissed, his head turning to glare at her like she’d got the answer wrong. “Do you remember the trophy I won for academic achievement at school?”
“Umm no,” she said warily, wondering if she needed to sit somewhere further away from his insane ass.
“NO?” Ishaan was bellowing now. Mayukhi glanced over at the others. Amay and Dhrithi were laughing and even Virat was smiling, though he shook his head while he did it.
“It was the best student award. How can you not remember?” Ishaan looked like he was about to launch to his feet, his outrage acting like jet propulsion.
“Maybe because I actually had a life?” Mayukhi threw her hand up in the air. “Who cares about a stupid school trophy?”
Fucking nerds. A school trophy? That’s what this was about?
“I do!” Ishaan actually did jump to his feet. “And you guys,” he told the others. “Are dicks.”
The others had stopped laughing, Dhrithi’s face going round with anxiety, a trauma response that they all recognised.
“Ish, I’ll bring it back,” she said, putting her plate down. “I-“
“Don’t bother,” he said shortly. “You guys discuss what you need to with Mayukhi. I need some space.”
He stormed off to a room at the end of the large hall and slammed the door behind him.
“I’ll go,” Amay said, putting his plate down. “Let me see what’s actually going on with him.”
Mayukhi grabbed his hand as he walked past her. “Do you mind if I go?” She had no idea what had made her volunteer but for some reason, she couldn’t stand the idea of anyone else going up to Ishaan right now. She’d seen something in his face that she recognised. She knew what it felt like to stand on the precipice of something and have all control unravel from your hands.
Amay looked like he wanted to argue but Virat said, “Let her. You’re probably the last person he wants to see right now.”
Mayukhi didn’t wait for more than that. She made her way to the room she’d seen Ishaan disappear into and knocked.
“Fuck off!” The snarled insult only made her smile. This Ishaan she could handle. The thoughtful man who’d brought her drunk self home, safe, and tucked her into bed, not so much.
She opened the door and stepped in, shutting it behind her. The room was in darkness with the air conditioner going full blast. She took a second to allow her eyes to adjust to the dark. Ishaan was sprawled face down on the large king size bed that dominated the room.
“Fuck off Ams. I’m not in the mood for this.”
There it was again in his voice. Defeat. She was surprised to realise she didn’t like hearing it.
“Define this,” she said, approaching the bed. She saw his entire body still at the sound of her voice but he didn’t turn her way.
“Not now, Kraken,” he said, his voice a deep, delicious rumble that seemed to trickle through her veins.
Mayukhi sat down on the bed, next to him, cross legged, careful to not let any part of her touch any part of him.
“It sounds like a prank,” she said, resting her back against the headboard.
“I know it’s a prank.”
She almost expected him to start growling at her at any moment.
“Then why are you acting like a toddler in the middle of a full blown meltdown?”
Again, tact had never been her strength. But somehow it seemed to be the right thing to say to Ishaan.
“You know I beat Dhrithi by half a mark to win that trophy?” Ishaan finally turned to look at her, propping his head up with one hand. “But she thinks I cheated.”
Mayukhi arched an eyebrow. “Did you?”
He grinned, a brilliant, wicked grin that she felt right to the tips of her toes. Mayukhi curled her fingers into the bedsheet to keep from reaching for him.
“Does it matter? I won, didn’t I? I don’t like losing.”
“Is that what this is about? Them winning?”
Ishaan shrugged, flopping on to his back and staring at the ceiling. “All I had back then was my brains. It was all that stood between me and complete failure. It was my thing, my only thing. That trophy? It’s all I had to show for that time in my life.”
A strange emotion unfurled inside her. It took her a moment to realise it was tenderness towards this six foot plus pain in her arse.
“Well,” she said, quietly. “I guess we’re just going to have to steal it back then.”
Ishaan turned his head on his pillow to look at her, a gentle amusement lightening the shadows on his face. “We?”
“Who do you think would win a prank war between us? Two shit stirrers like us or those two angels?” She jerked her thumb towards the shut bedroom door.
Ishaan laughed, the sound a bright burst of joy dispelling the darkness of the mood she’d walked into. And suddenly, she couldn’t stop herself from wanting more…wanting him. Mayukhi’s pulse hammered as she looked down at Ishaan, his face half-lit by the dim glow filtering through the curtains.
His chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, his eyes dark, searching, looking for something she didn’t know she had to give. Something inside her tightened at the sight—this man, with his ironclad shields around his emotions, baring his deepest insecurities to her. The air between them was thick, charged with everything they hadn’t said.
She stopped thinking and just moved. Her hand pressed against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her palm. Then, with a sharp inhale, she leaned in. The first touch was soft, fleeting, but a heartbeat later, she deepened it, her lips moving against his.
Ishaan stilled for a fraction of a second but then something in him snapped. His fingers, which had been lax against the sheets grasped her wrist, holding her there. His lips parted beneath hers, and the kiss turned desperate, searching.
She shivered as his free hand slid up, fingers skimming her waist, then curling around the nape of her neck, pulling her down to him. A quiet, breathless sigh escaped her as he tilted his head, meeting her kiss with a hunger that spoke of endless, frightening depths.
Mayukhi sank into him, pressing closer, her fingers fisting in the fabric of his shirt. She kissed him harder, her breath mingling with his, her heart racing. When she finally pulled back, her lips swollen, her breathing ragged, she knew without a doubt that in this moment, something had changed forever. Ishaan’s expression was unreadable. His thumb brushed against her wrist absentmindedly, as if grounding himself. Silence stretched between them, thick and crackling, but neither looked away.
“Let’s do it,” he murmured, breaking the spell.
“Do what?” she asked, dazed and disoriented.
“Let’s steal it back.”
A smile broke through the foggy lust that seemed to engulf her. “Shit stirrers unite,” she whispered.
“Shit stirrers unite,” he agreed, still looking at her with that intense, searching gaze, the one that saw all the way to the insecure, anxious girl she’d always been, the one who’d grown a hard shell to defend herself.
Mayukhi forced herself to get up from the bed. “We should get back to the others,” she said, loosening her hair before retying her ponytail.
“Mayukhi?”
He spoke just as she reached the door. Mayukhi paused, not turning back. She wasn’t sure she would be able to keep going if she looked back at him.
“Yes?” Her husky voice betrayed all the emotion she was holding back.
“Consent is a thing,” he said, laughter threading through his voice. “For men too. Next time, please ask me first before you kiss me.”
Irritation tempered with the bizarre urge to laugh had Mayukhi shaking her head and walking out without replying. The bloody ass could steal his trophy back on his own. He was down one shit stirrer on his team.